For days people have been asking me what I am doing for Thanksgiving.
They know I have no family in the area. Maybe they are concerned that I might be spending Thanksgiving alone, or maybe they would just like to spend the holiday with me.
But honestly, sometimes I want to spend these family holidays alone.
Welcome, fellow travelers on the grief journey
and a special welcome to anyone new to The Grieving Room.
We meet every Monday evening.
Whether your loss is recent, or many years ago;
whether you've lost a person, or a pet;
or even if the person you're "mourning" is still alive,
("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time),
you can come to this diary and say whatever you need to say.
We can't solve each other's problems,
but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.
Unlike a private journal
here, you know: your words are read by people who
have been through their own hell.
There's no need to pretty it up or tone it down..
It just is.
In the past I did try from time to time to accept these invitations. I know people are just trying to do the right thing—it is a kindness to invite the straggler, the lonely single person, the elderly neighbor, who would otherwise be alone at the holidays, to join your joyful famly scene. And sometimes those dinners have been wonderful.
But sometimes it backfires and all my deepest buttons get pushed.
There have been times when such evenings sliced my heart open.
The pain starts with how hard it is to hide my envy. I get angry with myself and the fact that my life worked out so that I could not have this. What is so wrong with me that I never got to have a family of my own? But that's just the way it is.
Then of course Thanksgiving is a grief trigger, just as all the other major holidays are. Remembrances of family dinners in the past. Six of the adult faces I see around the table in my memory of those family thanksgivings are dead now. One of the people who sat at the children's table with me is already gone.
When those feelings come, I can't very well vomit that out onto the rug when I am a guest in someone else's home. Holding it in makes it worse, making an already toxic feeling even more powerful.
But if I am alone I can just feel whatever I feel. I can put on some music or engage in another distress tolerance distraction. I can call a friend for support. I can cry or write about it. And having those outlets may help me get past it.
Last but not least, not every family is having a happy thanksgiving. I don't want to be witness to someone else's holiday stress induced squabble. Nor be the guest who provides the reason everyone has to be on their best behavior.
There are people who would genuinely love to see me, and I would love to see them, but I am exhausted and need to sleep. It's been a killer month at work and I worked double hours last week.
Thanksgiving is usually a holiday will relatively few interruptions and I often have the entire day off (medical emergencies seem to cluster around Christmas). So I plan to sleep all day, go for a walk, make a healthy dinner, watch some football, blog and play computer games, and get to bed early.
Just typing that sounds like a luxurious day of celebration I can really give thanks for!
I know I am lucky to get so many invitations when there are people genuinely longing for company on that day who don't have anyone asking after them.
I guess I have to admit that I am becoming more introverted in my old age, and enjoy many aspects of being alone with my thoughts, especially when the grief flares up.
How do you plan to manage your grief process at Thanksgiving? Confront the empty chair at the table head on, and deal with whatever emotions arise as they arise? Make sure to be with people who understand and can offer comfort? Treat Thursday as just another day and skip the holiday concept altogether?
And if Thanksgiving is the farthest thing from your mind, that's ok of course. Please share whatever you need to share, even if it has nothing to do with Thanksgiving.