This was supposed to be the second half of my morning entry, it isn’t going to be. I feel compelled to write about my day. A day supposed to be about family. We headed to my mother’s house for dinner around 2. don’t even get me started on why we have to eat dinner in the middle of the afternoon, but anyhow, we passed my brother driving. This got my partner going. She remains angry and is quick to speak her mind. That is okay, everyone is entitled to their own feeling about what happened with my brother this past year. Instead of listening I felt myself lost in thought. I felt sad, not just a mild lingering variety, rather a deep heart numbing type of sadness. It will never be okay. We will never just be a family. To have dinners, birthdays, holidays. None of that. Not that we ever really did. Not in the usual way. We had days where we all came together. Tolerated each other. Ignored the past, half smiled in the present. Small talk abounded. That was preferable to this. Just us, my mom, her neighbor and my partner. It was a beautiful spread, as always. My mother never disappoints when it comes to food. All I could think of is my brother driving away, banned from the house so we could eat this “dinner”. I glanced long at my partner, imploring her with my eyes to allow him to join us. I said it just wasn’t right. Regardless, it was thanksgiving and we were a family. but it isn’t that easy. Within seconds I had a confrontation to contend with, I didn’t say it to make her feel guilty. There we all stood. Like some weird standoff in that kitchen, surrounded by food. I said “okay, that’s it. start again. do over.” and so we did. It was manageable. We had our meal. I couldn’t shake that image of my brother driving away. I texted him that I was sorry everything was so screwed up. Here I was, me apologizing. I did nothing wrong, but felt like the one that had done wrong. That guilt didn’t belong to me, but somehow I easily claimed it and drew myself deeper into sadness. We finished up and we headed south to my aunt’s.

Round two for Thanksgiving. The pensive mood remained throughout the drive. the large glass of red wine churned in my stomach. It was not an enjoyable ride. One of those meds doesn’t play well with wine, but I was too preoccupied to think of which one. My back seemed to just get worse, not better. I sat there thinking and trying not to throw up…Why was I so lost? Why did I care so much? why did I feel so fucking bad for him? I don’t even know. The remainder of the evening was spent in the company of cousins. Mostly in deeply intellectual conversations. As per the norm at these things. The strange lost feeling stayed with me. I struggled to stay present. Between the endless back pain and my head it was a rough evening. It was probably too much, for me, my head, my body, all of it. The crashing mood combining with the pain just exhausted me. Virgil had warned me not to, she said to go easy. I decided to go anyway. I wanted to see them, more out of a need for connection than anything else. To find “family” the real kind, not the disaster that surrounded me most of the time. It really wasn’t the best plan, especially all the hours sitting in a car. But I am happy I saw my cousins, and was surrounded by family for some of thanksgiving- for whatever that is worth…

We left to head north, and home. I mused over the evening. I tried to get comfortable. It was an endless drive home. This day draws to a close I can’t help but be happy it is over. Fuck thanksgiving 2012. desperate to get comfortable I am headed to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. I can only hope I feel better and I can run, or go to the gym. To be able to lose myself in motion and shrug off this blanket of darkness. I can’t quite figure out how my back is so much worse now than before. I am regretting my decision to inject it. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. I shouldn’t have taken it so lightly.