And there's quicksand at the bottom of the hole

It's pretty clear from the title of this post that I'm not in a celebratory mood nor feel like giving thanks for anything. This year I am alone -- my son no longer lives in the same town, extended family is on the other side of the country, and friends have their own families or friends with whom they have a tradition of sharing Thanksgiving day. Kinda feeling on the outskirts here, but don't really mind all that much.

So I lie to people about how I spent the holiday. "I wasn't alone. I spent the day with some friends." And my nose grows longer with each telling.

I worked part of the day and was on call for the remainder. There is a sad, sad couple who both have dementia and some physical limitations. Thursday morning I helped them get their day started and put together a nice meal for them. They were grateful and that made me feel good, but the holiday pay rate was my focus. Just a mean old mercenary. But that attitude protected me from feeding the depression monster inside me.

At church today we had a guest minister who told a series of anecdotes involving people who learned they were terminally ill and how they died. ARGH!!!!!! I think the point was that we all benefit from living in a state of mindfulness, but I couldn't wait for the sermon to end so that I could give thanks that it was over and run out of the building as fast as possible!

I made the decision to eliminate a significant amount of stress by finding a less expensive place to live. Fortunately, I connected with another woman who lives alone and who has a room that I can rent. I don't know which makes me feel saddest -- the fact that I really can't afford to keep my apartment or the fact that the best I can do is rent a room. I think I mourn both. My friends say that things could be much worse. I know that. I would love to have someone acknowledge the fact that I am experiencing a loss. I am once again shedding belongings. I feel like I am losing my autonomy.

So I fell into this hole. The sides are slippery and water trickles down. It's miles deep, unlit, and there isn't even an echo in here. And there's quicksand at the bottom of the hole.

Plan of action: use the GLAD light, take my meds, blog, go to NAMI support group, find some seriously dark chocolate (medicinal)and mindfully stuff my face!