Holiday blues, or something else?

I AM officially tired of Facebook.  I am tired of Lolcats.  I am tired of the newspaper, the TV, the little dog's incessant crying and the big dog's earnest neediness as she sits for hours staring at my face.  I am tired of kids who need picked up from their girlfriend's house at nine o'clock at night after I am warm and settled in my pj's because they were *absolutely certain* before they went that they had a ride home.  I am tired of the incessant ups and downs of work things, which seem to intrude on our home lives because they are too big for the work box.  I am tired of painting Christmas windows, which became a huge obligation to everyone in four different buildings after the first couple of fun little freebies I did just as a lark.  I am tired (and I feel OH so guilty for saying this) that B's daughter calls every single night for her evening chat just as we sit down to dinner, because she is at work and is bored. 

I am tired of my family, who disapproves of so many things that I do with my life and the way my children look.  I am tired of the skeletons who fall out of my closets at the most inopportune moments, just when I relax and try to draw a breath (and why does those skeletons always revolve around fathers, whether my own or my kids'?).  I am tired of my friends that jet off to Bermuda and the Bahamas and Hawaii and on cruises, just on a whim, when I can't afford to go on a simple camping trip.  I am tired of my capricious tummy, with its GERD and tempermentality.  I am tired of fighting with my boss to do the things that we both know need to get done, because he just doesn't want to be unpopular. 

I'm tired of being tired.  Of getting to bed so late at night that all we do is fall into it and out of sensibility, with not much conversation or cuddle.  Of the pain in our various joints that means we can only lie one way comfortably. 

I am tired of the Christmas pressure, and parties, and gifts, and command appearances with family.  Of expectations that are grander than my budget, and no reduction in the needs of daily life to compensate.  I am spread as thin as a sheet of rice paper, and I.......AM........TIRED.

B and I finally broke down tonight and talked about it, all this hubbub and chaos and crisis and whirl.  It's not good for him, and it's not good for us.  I told him that even when these kids are gone (and at 16 and 18, they are precious close to having their own lives separate from ours), we must have an *us* to rely on.  If we don't nurture our own relationship now, we can't expect it to support us later.  When we're going fifteen different directions at once, too often when we get a moment's peace it's down to him in the office, typing on the computer, and me in the living room, surfing Facebook.  Sure, we need some down time.  But there has to be some *us* time too.  In fact, there MUST be some us time.  I won't let us lose us in the commotion.

We are both feeling unmoored and adrift at this holiday season, one half step removed from the other half of our souls.  We are used to moving in tandem, and this disconnect is painful and confusing.  We must get back what we let slip.  The world will go on without us.