The Christmas spirit is gone

It's day 11, or, as the rest of the world calls it, December 23. Christmas Eve Eve, as I have been known to call it. Elaine suggested that to me today. Sorry to say, I wasn't amused. I thought I was okay, I thought I had this Christmas thing under control. I was wrong.

Yesterday, Elaine announced that she wanted to have a birthday party. Unfortunately she not only told me, she put it on Facebook. A few friends who live far away indicated that they would attend in spirit. Elaine's cousins expressed interest. Then we left for a scenic drive. While we were gone, Cousin 1 sent a message saying she had already been invited to an event that day. She really needs to be present. I responded that I understood. This morning she and I messaged about it. That was a mistake.

This day hasn't gone well. I woke up to find our birdbath broken. It's not a big deal, it came with the house, but I enjoy watching the birds and squirrels in it. When Elaine got up, I was researching a replacement. She joined me. As we worked through the possibilities, Ron called. He was upset. He was trying to meet his family before leaving to be with our son tomorrow. He has the morning and early afternoon free, but they had agreed to meet later. He was upset, and I found myself shouting for him to eff them repeatedly. He was blaming himself for no reason. Just do what you need to do, I said. If you can't connect, that's tough. He was actually doing them a favor, delivering stuff they need. There was nothing they had to offer him. It was just too much.

Then Cousin 1 messaged, full of excuses and good intent. She wanted to give us an alternative to the party she couldn't attend. I didn't like being questioned about Elaine 's "friends" locally, none of which had responded ( big surprise) to her post. I finally had to tell her that I needed to stop talking about it, since it was sucking the Christmas spirit out of me.

Then I hurt my back checking out the birdbath at Lowes. Everything sucks today. I am holed up in the bedroom on a heating pad. I am not for company for man of beast. This is just another one of my Cancerland meltdowns. Yes, I know I suck. I have isolated myself from the only ones who really care about me.

My feelings do count, though, don't they?