Thanks. The looking forward is a new development. I'm latching on to it while it's here because who knows how long I'll feel this way.
November just does a number on me. I get really, really bad every single year. It's amazing I've won any NaNos. One Thanksgiving my dad and Patrick had to make almost the entire meal because half way through cooking it I had a complete melt down and went my room to cry where I stayed for a couple hours. Came out, tried to finish and ended up back in my room. That was a crappy year but they got the dinner finished. They had to physically haul me out to participate and I didn't even start eating until everyone was done (took my food in my room). I was really bad off.
Something to do with my mom's birthday being on Thanksgiving (I think) and trying to do everything perfect for her like I remember her doing for us when we were little. Didn't work out so great but I couldn't lose the feeling that it had to be perfect which is stupid because they were never "perfect" when I was a kid and my mom wouldn't give a rat's ass either way. I still tear up thinking how badly I wanted that meal to be just right.
The last few years I've been able to get past that. It helps that Patrick has volunteered to help with the meal the last few years, too, without me having to throw a fit or feel guilty for ruining his holiday by making him be in the kitchen with me.
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November just does a number on me. I get really, really bad every single year. It's amazing I've won any NaNos. One Thanksgiving my dad and Patrick had to make almost the entire meal because half way through cooking it I had a complete melt down and went my room to cry where I stayed for a couple hours. Came out, tried to finish and ended up back in my room. That was a crappy year but they got the dinner finished. They had to physically haul me out to participate and I didn't even start eating until everyone was done (took my food in my room). I was really bad off.
Something to do with my mom's birthday being on Thanksgiving (I think) and trying to do everything perfect for her like I remember her doing for us when we were little. Didn't work out so great but I couldn't lose the feeling that it had to be perfect which is stupid because they were never "perfect" when I was a kid and my mom wouldn't give a rat's ass either way. I still tear up thinking how badly I wanted that meal to be just right.
The last few years I've been able to get past that. It helps that Patrick has volunteered to help with the meal the last few years, too, without me having to throw a fit or feel guilty for ruining his holiday by making him be in the kitchen with me.