I won’t say I had the worst Christmas ever – nobody I loved died – but it ranked up there in the Worst Top 5.

I don’t know why my own insanity is always my undoing. Just lucky, I guess, gang.  Because while it’s happening, it does not feel like insanity. All day yesterday, I tried really, really hard to not make the damage worse.

I laid around in bed most of the day.  Then sat at the kitchen table and stared for the rest of the time that I wasn’t in bed. I never got dressed. I did wash my hair! That was pretty cool. It was great to look in the mirror and see that my hair looked really nice, even while the rest of my life felt incomprehensible.

I’m one of those people who tends to play a song over & over & over & over.  I’m just like that. I get hooked to a  groove. I’m also one of those people who believes that Tom Petty wrote a song for every single, solitary thought I could ever have in my head.

In fact, when my birth mom was here visiting, she would mention something or other, and I’d think to myself, Hmm. That’s the title of a Tom Petty song. Then she’d say something else, and I’d think, Hmm. That’s the title of a Tom Petty song. It went on and on. If you are like me, and know absolutely not only every title  but also every lyric Tom Petty ever wrote, you will notice how uncannily true this is.

Anyway. So yesterday, all day long, in an attempt to both keep my sanity, and to not create anything worse than I had already created, which is starting to feel like it cannot be undone, I played this Tom Petty song over & over & over (primarily to be reminded of the 2 opening lyrics; If he don’t want to talk, leave him alone), and eventually the day ended and that was that.

I’m hoping that for some currently unfathomable-to-detect reason, next Christmas will be better. Let’s hope so, gang.