CHRISTMAS SUCKS and isn’t great for everyone.
It can be blah to shit to an entirely horrible experience for some.
From dysfunctional family, death, stress, depression…. Well, it is the gift that keeps on giving.
I hate Christmas.
To be more truthful. I hate the holiday period.
I have for a long time.
Hate is such a strong word. I get that. I barely use the word and I’m using it now.
The holiday period is an insanely nutsy experience. Sometimes it borders on stressful, to horribly to depressing.
Why do I dislike this time so much?
- From a dysfunctional and segmented family.
- Insane over consumption and over consumerism.
- The expectation of a ‘perfect day’ which makes people crazy.
- Forced social interactions.
- Child Custody. Enough said.
- New Year’s energy is SO intense of ‘new’ and need to have a plan.
- My dead brother’s birthday on New Year’s.
Throw my birthday in the middle of all that and it is no wonder I just want to curl up in a ball in the corner of my bedroom and read a book.
Anyone of these is enough pressurised energy that has the power to combust.
Put all together in a week. Well, my brain explodes.
I. Just. Don’t. Wanna.
This part of my story I call dysfunctional…. ‘Cause, well, I couldn’t call us functional.
My parents separated 6 years ago. Those in the same room is, well, uncomfortable. In fact, I think I have avoided that as I don’t think I have ever been in the same room with both of them, since.
And we aren’t dysfunctional because of their marriage breakdown. I was living with mum and dad when they split. It was fine. Mum moved out and lived with my brother. I lived with dad for a year or two longer.
In there, two sisters got married, and moved, and there was a whole period of ‘not really talking’ to other family members. That still goes on to this day.
Before gran died we use to get together for her, I think. We made an effort and now no-one does. Myself included.
Maybe it is the stage of life we are at. Maybe it is just life. Cause everything changes, right?
Once upon a time I had a close family. Sisters I called ‘sissy’. Mum I spoke to daily. Not anymore. Then end.
The Christmas holiday time lead up period is full on.
The insane consumerism and forced money spending. The shopping centres are just so FULL ON and even more so than usual.
I have found shops, in general, at any time of the year to be overstimulating. Too much ‘stuff’. Too much colour and noise. It isn’t uncommon for me to have a partial meltdown and leave a shop in tears and go home and curl up in a ball under my bed covers until I recover.
The lead up is shopping for shopping sake.
I try to ignore it, I try to not participate in it.
I don’t believe in forced present giving. If I have the urge to gift, any time of the year, I do it then. But mostly I never do. I don’t believe in adults getting Christmas gifts, because Santa day is for kids. If an adult wants something, go out and buy it yourself. (Myself included).
Question, if I don’t feel like going, do I have to?
Yep. Apparently I do. I know that sounds rude, but what if I don’t feel like leaving the house. What if I don’t feel like being social. What if I don’t feel like putting on a damn bra.
Apparently, what I want isn’t in the guidelines of what is ‘expected’ on the day.
It is forced dressing up, forced travelling, forced time management, forced socialisation, forced fed, forced consumptions, forced company, forced conversation, forced overeating.
Because that is what everyone else is doing?
And if everyone else is walking off a cliff?
I start hyperventilating at the thought.
The energy is ripe with ‘new-ness’ and potential and possibility of a new year. Like new sheets on a bed. Like a clean slate.
What do I want in the New Year? What do I want to create? What goals do I have? What plans? What new ideas? What projects? What THING is going to rock my socks off? What is my word for the year? What are my New Year resolutions?
And to know the answer and have it figured out by the 1 January.
In previous years I was staring at a blank piece of paper. Being hard on myself because I didn’t KNOW. I wasn’t sure and felt PRESSURED to have an answer, or I’ve missed the starting gun and I’ll have to wait until next year, another 12 months.
I now know that is BS. That a ‘new year’ can start today.
But still, there is something about this time of year and the energy…
21 dear years.
It has been 20 years since my brother died. New Year’s Day is his birthday.
The eldest of 5 kids. Born with cerebral palsy.
Brother to 1 brother and 3 sisters.
I think it has been years since I wrote his name.
21 dear years.
I was 16 when he died. He was 25. It was weird when I turned 26 years old and was older than my oldest brother. He would never be any older.
This year he would have been 46.
New Years has sadness at the edges.
Gee, what do you say to sum up the hell that has been our lives for two and a half years. That still endures….
Let’s just say that this time of year is about kids. And we don’t have any kids.
My mans daughter is cute. Damn cute.
And I (we) can’t wait to spend more time with her. On Christmas morning, on holidays, for any decent amount of time.
Hottie boyfriend mentioned he has never had his daughter on Christmas morning. Not since she was 1. She is now 7.
That is sad. A big fat tear rolled down my face.
I. We. Can’t. Wait. To. Spend. More. Time. With. Her.
Maybe this time of year would be a little bit different?
27th December. 2 Days after Christmas.
I have never enjoyed this time. Recovering from Xmas and forced hurrying to figure out ‘what the hell am I doing with my life’ for New Year’s.
As a kid mum tried making it special. Presents under the Xmas tree that I couldn’t open until my birthday. A cake.
Everyone else was away or they loved a ‘bundle’ gift. Nearly all relatives said ‘your xmas present is also your birthday present’.
It honestly never got better. Never got special. Was always a day of the week. And that is honestly how I want to leave it.
I don’t believe in ‘hope’ or ‘excitement’ because that always leads to disappointment. With no expectations is zero disappointment. That is how I like it.
I turn off my phone. I don’t talk to or see anyone. I never want to (if I wanted to, I would).
You know what I want to do? Be by myself and do what I want. Reading, writing, watching movies.
I dream of ‘’running away’’. Of just not being ‘here’ and being somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Like a different location on the planet makes a difference.
Plus, who am I kidding. I’m not a traveller (anymore). I’m a homebody. All I desire is being home.
Curled up with a book. Writing. Watching a movie.
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