Thanksgiving
First one as a married couple. And I am sitting in the bathroom having a panic attack. Why you might ask?
Isn’t your first Thanksgiving married suppose to be magical or whatever shit the movies make us believe? To some extent yet, but also no. Not for me. Holidays suck.
I constantly feel like I am on edge, waiting for a fight. My family LOVES to fight on holidays. Not just some holidays but all of them. Even my new in-laws love to fight on holidays. Fantastic. So here I am in the bathroom freaking the fuck out.
I want out of here, away from the people, the noise, the rising tension that is occurring between everyone with each drop of alcohol they consume.
My heart rate according to my watch is at 180. Thats not good. Knowing this though just makes my panic spiral worse.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Is it though? Clearly my body is telling me to run but run from what and to where? I am not sure.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Where could I go? If I flee my husband is going to be upset, everyone will look at me with even more pity or disdain than they already do.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
I am the unwanted person it seems in both families. Well apart from my husband. He did marry me after all so think he wants me. But the fear that he doesn’t is still there.
Let’s not panic about that right now though, another time.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Ok, heart rate down to 130, thats better. Still not great but better. I can hear murmurs as people pass the hall. Hope they haven’t noticed, how long have I been in here? Who knows.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Holidays, could we just skip this time of the year? Its funny cause all I have wanted is for a traditional family holiday with everyone smiling, laughing, and having a good time together. But each year the opposite seems to happen, everyone ends up hating each other for one reason or another. And every year we all get together still and I hope that it will be different but it’s not.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Every year, I put on a fake smile, cook, and clean to stay away as much as possible. And yet, every year I am the one to stop the fights but somehow get blamed for them as well.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
The shaking has stopped so thats good. I grab a towel from under the sink and start wiping the sweat away. Pull it together.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Would they even notice if I just slipped out the back? Would anyone really care if I didn’t go back out? I stop, look myself in the mirror and seriously contemplate this.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
Really, in truth I don’t think they would notice or care. Well hopefully my husband does.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
I stand up all the way. I am put back together for the most part. A little dishevel but together. Still looking at myself in the mirror. This isn’t worth it anymore. I am leaving.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.
It will be ok, I slowly open the door to the bathroom. Walk down the hallway, turning right instead of left. Grab my purse and keys, and keep walking right out the back door.
Deep breaths, it’s ok.