It’s the day before Easter and here I am.
Feverishly OCD kicking into high gear.
vacuuming, washing, sterilizing….going cuckoo bong-go.
When you grow up in a dysfunctional home like mine, holidays were the worst.
I can’t remember a fucking holiday where there wasn’t screaming, things getting tossed,
people getting smacked, people getting tossed, people yelling “fuck this, fuck that, fuck you!”
someone getting drunk or high. someone getting mad that someone was getting drunk or high
my mother feverishly cleaning through it all and then the ensuing chaos.
and then after said chaos, we had to enter the community at large, attend
Catholic Mass as act as if everything was fine and dandy.
not too fucked up…… not too much stress, nope.
even with all the knowledge in the world that I am not a child.
that it is NOT 1978.
and that my family of origin has long since disbanded
for the life of me I can not seem to un-wed
holidays being riddled with fear, stress, and great trepidation…..
I walk around just as my mother did cleaning like a banshee
snapping like turtle at all in my path
swearing like a sailor
and wishing there weren’t any holidays
wishing I could artfully hide under a rock
my family will be here in less than 4 hours by the way
for the Easter egg hunt and then we are going out for dinner……
what I need is a portable shrink….or a massive amount of something to numb me