Christmas

My doctor has pointed out that my family is in pretty strong denial about our circumstances. For every birthday, for every holiday, we are all (divorced Mom & Dad included) to present ourselves for a family dinner. No raised voices allowed. Everyone must play nice and pretend we're all normal. Mom's not a paranoid delusional psychotic, Dad's not a passive-aggressive depressive with deadly cancer, the sister isn't a control-freak with stress management issues, the brother-in-law isn't a lazy couch potato who can't do anything without step-by-step instructions....

And as per usual, this Christmas, the illusion shattered pretty quickly. We didn't even make it through our Christmas breakfast before Mom said something silly about the food, my sister took it the wrong way, the refridgerator starting going on the fritz, and the kids started acting up.

Once again, I was forced to give thanks to Bristol-Meyers Squibb (or whichever other pharmaceutical company makes my drugs).

But, there was one change this year: I had Fred along. My family was still nuts, I was still depressed, but Fred provided a new focus for me. My family was still at the center of my Christmas, but they were forced to share space with Fred. Fred needed exercise, and I got time alone. Worked pretty well. Which is not to say that I don't have plenty of new material for the shrink to chew on next week.

Hope your Christmas illusions stayed intact. A happy new year is coming....