Holidays? Again . . .

Honestly, I started this as “Thanksgiving 2019”. But quickly it grew into memories of the past. Sometimes, we just have to go there:

. . . We don’t regret the past, not shut the door on it. . .

Alcoholics Anonymous, Ninth Step Promises, p. 83 and 84

I am not one for holidays; to me, holidays are just another day. I’m not anti-holiday by any means. Holidays in the United States are so overblown now with commercialism by the time they get here, I’m burned out. Besides, I don’t have anyone close, family or friends, to get into the “Holiday Spirit”.

Holiday events in my past were good and bad; I was so confused. For instance, every Thanksgiving and Christmas we would travel on one or the other. Either my relatives came to California or we went to Illinois or Missouri. If it was in California, I had seven pairs of great uncles and aunts who happen to live around the same trailer park in Long Beach or the surrounding area, so it was a couple of days at this person’s or that person’s home. I enjoyed getting out of our home and away from the chaos. But the chaos followed. What was suppose to be enjoyable turned into a nightmare?

I’d been learning to play piano since I was three or four years old. Many, if not most, relatives had a piano in their living room. The only one who could play was me. So from Thanksgiving to Christmas and beyond, if the family was together, there was a piano, my mother had to show me off to everyone. God forbid if I didn’t play Für Elise composed by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)! I enjoyed playing it because I put all my emotions into it. Then it usually was Christmas carols over and over.

Afterward, it was back home. My mother drunk, my father I’m sure was half- way there. Then it was time to endure her rage and abuse. Everything I did was wrong. Everything that everyone else did wrong was blamed on me. Out came whatever was close to her (belt, metal hanger, etc). Swap, swap, swap.

Thanksgiving 2002 wasn’t a high point in my life. At this point, my mother and I were constantly yelling at each other. I was still drinking despite my DUI in 1998. I had recently just lost my job (American Express moved). Mom had enough and moved down to San Diego with my sister all without telling me. I was left in an apartment with $1500 + due at the first of the month. Thirty days later, I was evicted and homeless for a year and a half in California. Not fun times at all.

I actually still have my old journal entries from LiveJournal (another blogging company way before WordPress came along). I got sober December 1, 2007. My last entry was November 28, 2007. Just reading them pains me – UGH. The honesty really started coming out the middle of November until November 28th – I’m a drunk! I don’t post again until Jan 28, 2008, when I’m two months sober.

I’m sure much of the trauma I endured during those decades has caused my disinclination (Honestly, I wanted to put disgust but its not true. I had to look for a similar word. New word of the day meaning a reluctance or lack of enthusiasm. Hey it fits!), At times I do want to get festive. However, I never get around to doing it. What’s the point when you live alone and no one comes to visit? Oh…a waste of money. All I have are past memories.


I had a great Thanksgiving 2019! Seriously, a friend from the rooms invited me over to his home. His family and some other people from the rooms showed up. I was uncomfortable at first but I knew I was in a good place.

So with that said:

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