In which I ruin Christmas

I'm concerned about myself, Journal.

I had an episode on Christmas Eve when all the siblings were here. (We were holding our Christmas on Christmas Eve, remember.) As we were about to sit down to our meal, Jewell and I were in the middle of a discussion and she, of course, said something characteristically ignorant and illogical. And I, with my irrevocable need of attacking all things I deem incorrect, I gave an example that proved my point and made Jewell mad - she went to the bathroom to cry.

Well, then the boys started in on me, all glaring in my direction from across the table. Josiah muttered darkly, "Jerk!"

And this did not help my mood because the boys always side against me - they think I'm evil and look for opportunities to bate me. I don't understand the fact that they haven't once exhibited anger towards their father and yet I'm some kind of villain to them. Also, they hadn't even heard most of the conversation and so it was unfair and unreasonable for them to be angry with me.

Which is when Melody walked into the room and said something how none of us should be taking sides today and that we needed to be quiet. I told her the boys were angry at me for no reason and thus I was entitled to explaining what had happened so they could see that Jewell had actually been the first one to grow hostile in our discussion. Mama said that Josiah and I couldn't speak for the remainder of the meal.
I was so angry. I literally sulked for the rest of the day, crying back in the room I share with Georgia. It sounds so ridiculously childish, and to be honest, it doesn't sound like me at all. Before I left home, I was known as the resilient daughter who didn't take things personally - Melody was the sulky one.

And yet not once when I was back facedown on my bed did it occur to me that I might possibly be overreacting. My hurt feelings were a hunderd percent legitimate!

Even when Mama came back to find me and tried to talk sensibly to me, I wasn't convinced. I was mad at her because I was the only one of her children who had her back and she was more concerned about her other kids than about me. I said it wasn't easy being down here with no moral support. Yeah, I was completely feeling sorry for myself.

Only when Mama started talking about how she concerned about my mood swings and said she could detect signs of depression did the mist began to recede, and I was left to writhe in utter humiliation for how I had managed to ruin the one day of the year we all had together.

Do you realize what this means for me? How from now on out I won't be able to trust the legitimacy of my feelings? Up until now I have noticed the progression of my Huntington's as much as any other observer, maybe even more. I knew before my neurologist told me to stop driving that I was becoming a hazard to others. I was dismayed at my both my jobs at my ineptitude to do a good job, though of course my employers noticed that too - "If it weren't for your sweet spirit, you wouldn't even be here" - I was aware of the dilapidation of my handwriting and my inability to sign my checks with hardly more than a scrawl before Mama commented that I no longer had artistic handwriting. I have also noticed the increased difficulty I have speaking - it's becoming more slurred.

But this - this reacting hysterically to what was so not a big deal - it never so much as crossed my mind that I was doing anything wrong - someone else had to point this out to me, and this scares me.

Mama thinks I should go to counseling, so Thursday is my first session. I've had many negative experiencese with counseling over the years, but my last one, my brilliant psychiatrist in Chattanooga, was amazing, and Melody's counselor has been helping her so much that I'm keeping my fingers crossed.