So yeah, in December I only have one job, so I am going to Dorfen every weekend. This time I took Thing1 with me. He is living with his father and the new girlfriend now, while he figures out what to do with his life. Thing2 is already at the house, so the three of us got to spend some time together, that was nice. I guess.
I’ve been on an eBay binge for awhile, gathering used furniture for the house. So now the front entry is done – already had the shoe shelf and a hatrack, now there is also a coat rack and a bench to sit on while you put on your shoes. I still need to get a buncha little mirrors, but it already looks like a real room – in contrast to the other rooms, which feature stacks of boxes, a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and/or pieces of furniture waiting to be assembled. But the first part of the house you see is done, and that’s something.
December is a bad month for depression. It has always been really rough for me, and in past years I’ve gone hard on the manufactured cheer of the Christmas season just to keep myself from going under. Organizing presents for everyone from everyone because nobody else would take responsibility, and filling the house with sparkle and light despite my husband and sons’ sneering cynicism was almost more work than it was worth, but I did it anyway. But this year it’s all I can do to hold on. Just gonna grit my teeth and get through this.
Thing1 said on the drive that he noticed his father had been unhappier over the last two years. I didn’t notice that at all. I mean I knew we had problems and I had a plan for addressing them and I know I waited too long, but also, I didn’t even realize that it had recently gotten visibly worse. I’ve always been sorta clueless about that sort of thing (if you went to high school with me you are now doing a spit-take and saying, “SORTA!?”), so it’s maybe not surprising that I missed it, but maybe if I had noticed, I could have done something about it. Or at least had some warning, so I could brace myself. Then maybe I wouldn’t still be shaking my head in disbelief after nearly eight freaking months.
So yeah. Dark thoughts. Grit teeth. Hold on.