One of my earliest Christmas memories was when I was around 9 years old and wanted a tape recorder. My mother told me it was too expensive and I assured her it was all I wanted and I'd be happy with only that. I would sit in front of the Christmas tree staring at the lights wishing and praying for my tape recorder. Though being brought up hard core Evangelical, I felt guilty for praying for anything for myself (starving kids in Africa and all), so half the time was spent apologizing for wanting this. One night while I was enjoying the lights in the dark I heard my parents fighting. What I got from it was that my mother spent $5 more on me than my father said she should. I internalized this as I wasn't worth $5 more. It felt specific to me. I cried and didn't let anyone know. On Christmas morning I did find a tape recorder under the tree. I looked at my father's face and saw he wasn't pleased. Again, I saw displeasure as I didn't deserve this.
We were poor many years, but especially after my parents divorced. My mother could barely make the bills and there wasn't extra money for clothes, school activities or presents. I looked longingly at other happy families sharing gifts and felt the scarcity of my own situation. I felt intense shame at our Christmas but did everything I could to hide the reality of it from everyone.
When my father remarried my step mother's traditions became our new ones. She liked to view herself as a Martha Stewart and insisted on perfection at all holidays. We were reprimanded over not sitting in the right spot, talking too loudly (laughing) or not paying enough attention to her. My entire time there was a walking talking anxiety attack.
Once my son was born I thought Christmas would be different. My plan was to put all focus on him and make everything wonderful. Yet my past was still present, and the stress very real, so even though I checked every box I was in misery every year. I did everything a "good mother" should do for their child yet he knew something was off with me.
My brother came out as gay to my father on Christmas and I had my worst eating binge of my life as I took on fear and stress from it. I tried to focus on Baby Jesus and that only hurt more as I never felt he loved me anyway. I gave to the poor. I volunteered. I tried to do more for everyone. I disassociated. I called December 26th my favorite day of the year because it was all finally over.
This year has a new level of pain now that I'm divorced. We spend Christmas Eve morning with my mother and siblings and that night I spend with my son. Christmas Day I'm all alone. I can't go somewhere to distract myself because nothing is open...everyone is with their families. Sure I've had offers to come to others for the day but seeing a smiling happy family only spirals me farther downward. I've tried to come up with a plan (and please don't give me ideas...just don't) but it all hurts. I will have to face a day of pain by myself and that's just the hard reality.
In 2015 I had been crying at my therapist's and she was trying to make me find something to look forward to. I whimpered there was nothing then remembered we had a new Star Wars coming out around Christmas! This excited me as I was all in for having Star Wars Christmas. I bought Star Wars towels, ornaments and anything else I could get my hands on. Thankfully a new Star Wars has come out every year and that's become my focus.
While I'm glad so many of you have wonderful memories and love Christmas the most, just know that for some of us this is a day of incredible suffering.
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