only took me 30+ years to figure myself out. my Christmas-self, i mean. i have been wrestling with the holiday season for some time now, & at its 2012 start, i thought i was going to avoid the difficult grappling. finally. Christmas wasn't going to be hard. Christmas was going to be great. it wasn't just going to be happy; it was going to be happy, happy, happy. i even dared to think it was going to reach the heretofore unheard of Ren & Stimpy levels of happy, happy, joy, joy.
silly me.
full disclosure: any stretch of time that is naturally emotional/saturated with hype is difficult for me to navigate because i'm already managing two mental illnesses that wreak havoc on my frontal lobe. using a 0-5 scale (with 0 resting at relative equilibrium & 5 approaching chaos), picture it this way: people who are free of such conditions typically start a typical day at a stress level of 0, whereas i begin mine at a 3. add the stress, obligations, hectic schedules, etc., of the holiday season, & most folks will have their stress jump up to 3, maybe even 4. me? i end up off the scale, since i already started higher. look at that; i'm an overachiever in everything. so that's what the season does to me.
& without fail, for the past, oh, say ten years, i approached Christmas thus: there was no way that i was going to let the hype get to me. i would put on the happy face, doing all the happy things that happy people do in order to have a happy holiday. I WAS GOING TO HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS & A HAPPY NEW YEAR, DAMMIT.
inevitably, i'd crash & burn in fabulous fashion.
i've already explained one of the reasons. there's this other one--the barrage of others' expectations. when people i haven't seen for ages finally see me again, they somehow feel it appropriate to assess my current life against their own past, as though i'm to live by their leave. every year, i'd bump into old[er] family friends, & invariably, this is what i'd get: "oh, you're still single/just dating/not married/not a mother/etc. yet? well, that's... okay." um, yeah. i know it's okay. it's damn fine & dandy because i'm okay with that, thanks much. it's a frustration that rears its nasty head this time of year because, to some, my life choices & path aren't interesting &/or legitimate unless i'm a wife &/or mother. 10+ years of that around the holidays really suck. luckily, my generation is far more engaging & realistic--they're excited for me that i'm making a big move this year, changing careers, & pursuing a long-held dream. i'm grateful for their support, kindness, & willingness to see me for who i am & what i'm doing, rather than who/what i'm not.
& blah, blah, blah, & other complain-talk.
honestly, there are so many other reasons to pull a humbug, many of them valid & unavoidable in adult life. i could go on & on, as i'm sure could many others who've faced the obstacles of a seemingly unhappy holiday. we wrestle, trying to conjure a way through, hoping to muddle into january with the fewest scars possible, & many times, our efforts seem futile. that thing that is supposed to light us from within breaks our hearts by being so elusive, mostly because we don't know what that thing is. but this afternoon, i finally figured it out while wrapping gifts.
why am i suddenly so excited for Christmas morning? this year, it's because of Soft Kitty, Pete Townshend, & "applewood smoked" Beggin Strips. my epiphany before Epiphany--i adore seeing smiles on the faces of people (& in one case, an animal) i love, that look that says, "someone has listened to me, cares about who i am, & invests in my being." i just want those dear ones to know precisely that--they are dear, & i am abundantly blessed by their presence in my life. i may pretend to write sometimes, but the best words often fail me. true, a t-shirt, a book, & food aren't essential to telling someone how i feel, but they can't hurt.
so if i want to give you a gift, even just a little, tiny one, please let me. it's what makes Christmas beautiful for me, because it means i love you.
silly me.
full disclosure: any stretch of time that is naturally emotional/saturated with hype is difficult for me to navigate because i'm already managing two mental illnesses that wreak havoc on my frontal lobe. using a 0-5 scale (with 0 resting at relative equilibrium & 5 approaching chaos), picture it this way: people who are free of such conditions typically start a typical day at a stress level of 0, whereas i begin mine at a 3. add the stress, obligations, hectic schedules, etc., of the holiday season, & most folks will have their stress jump up to 3, maybe even 4. me? i end up off the scale, since i already started higher. look at that; i'm an overachiever in everything. so that's what the season does to me.
& without fail, for the past, oh, say ten years, i approached Christmas thus: there was no way that i was going to let the hype get to me. i would put on the happy face, doing all the happy things that happy people do in order to have a happy holiday. I WAS GOING TO HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS & A HAPPY NEW YEAR, DAMMIT.
inevitably, i'd crash & burn in fabulous fashion.
i've already explained one of the reasons. there's this other one--the barrage of others' expectations. when people i haven't seen for ages finally see me again, they somehow feel it appropriate to assess my current life against their own past, as though i'm to live by their leave. every year, i'd bump into old[er] family friends, & invariably, this is what i'd get: "oh, you're still single/just dating/not married/not a mother/etc. yet? well, that's... okay." um, yeah. i know it's okay. it's damn fine & dandy because i'm okay with that, thanks much. it's a frustration that rears its nasty head this time of year because, to some, my life choices & path aren't interesting &/or legitimate unless i'm a wife &/or mother. 10+ years of that around the holidays really suck. luckily, my generation is far more engaging & realistic--they're excited for me that i'm making a big move this year, changing careers, & pursuing a long-held dream. i'm grateful for their support, kindness, & willingness to see me for who i am & what i'm doing, rather than who/what i'm not.
& blah, blah, blah, & other complain-talk.
honestly, there are so many other reasons to pull a humbug, many of them valid & unavoidable in adult life. i could go on & on, as i'm sure could many others who've faced the obstacles of a seemingly unhappy holiday. we wrestle, trying to conjure a way through, hoping to muddle into january with the fewest scars possible, & many times, our efforts seem futile. that thing that is supposed to light us from within breaks our hearts by being so elusive, mostly because we don't know what that thing is. but this afternoon, i finally figured it out while wrapping gifts.
why am i suddenly so excited for Christmas morning? this year, it's because of Soft Kitty, Pete Townshend, & "applewood smoked" Beggin Strips. my epiphany before Epiphany--i adore seeing smiles on the faces of people (& in one case, an animal) i love, that look that says, "someone has listened to me, cares about who i am, & invests in my being." i just want those dear ones to know precisely that--they are dear, & i am abundantly blessed by their presence in my life. i may pretend to write sometimes, but the best words often fail me. true, a t-shirt, a book, & food aren't essential to telling someone how i feel, but they can't hurt.
so if i want to give you a gift, even just a little, tiny one, please let me. it's what makes Christmas beautiful for me, because it means i love you.
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