Big hugs for this Christmas, my dear Friend and Fighter. 👀 ♥ * ͜ * ♥ 👀 👀 ♥ * ͜ * ♥ 👀 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
The broken, even those like me who have a very limited family to choose from, come back to our blood when we can. I have shared every year how hard the holidays are on me – and how I feel as if I have only barely recovered from one holiday’s wounds before it’s already Christmastime again. Admittedly, this year isn’t as bad as the stack of years leading up to it, somehow – likely because of the changes that have taken, and continue to take effect on my own psyche, I know…but, the overall emptiness and hollowed out feeling remains, in spite of the beginning of my own process of letting go of any former (and completely futile) expectations, hopes and/or goals in regard to my child, my own identity, and the future in general.
I’ve also written about my family a lot: my clan of older brothers, still living…
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