Thanksgiving, after relocation to a new home

I’m thankful for many things. First of all, I’m thankful that there’s no Thanksgiving here. That’s right, Turkey Day is a USA holiday. It has no relevance outside the USA. (Oh, by the way, there’s life below the equator.)

Secondly, I am thankful that my little dog and I are together. If I’d stayed in the USA the chances for me of lengthy or lifetime incarceration in a “hospital” were rather high. This would have meant separation from Puzzle, perhaps permanently.

Thirdly, I am thankful to be liberated from the label I had in the USA. Crazy. Not one person here sees me as at all “mentally ill” or having a psych problem.

I am thankful that on this day I don’t have to lie and say, “Oh yeah, I had a great time with my family.” I spent the last ten Thanksgivings alone. I never knew how to answer that question. How’s this: “Hello, pleasant person! You asked about Thanksgiving? Well, my family doesn’t invite me. They don’t want me. Have a nice day!”

Usually, I just lied and said I had a great Thanksgiving, and I didn’t reveal that I spent it alone. I didn’t admit that it sickened me to hear the joyful sounds of togetherness from every home I passed by. I felt queasy smelling their turkey. Or Tofurkey.  I could hear football TV sounds from homes. People leaving saying they were stuffed. I told myself, “They’re having a great time. Let ’em.”

Today is an ordinary day here. It was always an ordinary day for me back in the USA, except the post office, library, and stores were closed, and the buses were on Sunday schedule.

I am thankful to be alive. I am thankful that I no longer live in fear. Leaving was the right decision, and I have rarely questioned it.

Freedom is wonderful.

Feedback and comments welcome!