Note: I began writing this a couple days after Christmas and didn't publish it. I've decided to go ahead and post it anyway.
Despite my general bah-humbugging, Christmas turned out to be pretty nice. I'm going through a rough time right now, regretting some decisions I've made regarding my career and education, trading financial security in my twenties for some long-term goals I've pushed back. Now that I'm trapped in a career with no way out without risking everything I have, I find myself kicking my own ass for putting myself here.
This, coupled with the losses Chris and I have been dealt this year in losing both of our Grandmas has left me feeling like there's something missing from Christmas that we'll never get back.
Due to the holidays being such miserable bitch-fests between my broken family while I was growing up, it's hard enough for me to enjoy them. My family hadn't spent Christmas with Gram for a number of years before she passed away, despite having grown up going to her house for every holiday, but this year she's gone and that fact solidifies that those days, that joy and union of family, the celebration of together-ness, is gone. What's left is a December I have to juggle between warring factions, watching what I say in front of whichever party is present at whichever dinner I'm attending.
Maybe I'm just depressed because I took a job way beyond my physical, mental, and emotional abilities and skills. I can't go into too much detail, but I was starting to get hopeful when a professional was called in. They were subsequently dashed by the pickiness and eccentricities of both parties involved and now it's back to square one. I've also discovered I have no more hope of getting affordable health care through this job than I did the last.
Anyway, I started this post explaining how this Christmas was nice and ended up dumping my depressive thoughts all over it. Let me start again.
First, I have the best husband in the world. I can't express enough how supportive he is, even when he doesn't really understand my poor articulation of my own feelings. He's just there for me no matter what.
My family, though broken, split and scattered from the Bay Area to the foothills, have managed to come together for sharing the best of us together. My stepmom made Chris and me a quilt, her very first one. That we were her first project says so much about the repair and building of the relationship between me and her. This wouldn't have always been the case.
My mom worked her ass off at her Christmas to have a dinner and gift exchange for no less than seventeen people. I don't know how she does it, but it went off without a hitch. Her and my stepdad bought us a forty-inch television for Christmas, which we never would have been able to afford on our own.
Christmas day we had a quiet and lovely gift exchange and lamb dinner at my In-Laws' place. I was quite comfortable until Chris reminded me I had to work the next day. We stopped by our friend's apartment on the way home and I finally felt like I could get into the Christmas spirit. My friends are expecting a baby and it is so great to see them so happy.
Despite my change in attitude, the next day I breathed a sigh of relief that Christmas was finally one day in the past. I don't think that's perfectly abnormal, even for those who love Christmas. Anyway, it is what it is and it's over now. On to the New Year.
Despite my general bah-humbugging, Christmas turned out to be pretty nice. I'm going through a rough time right now, regretting some decisions I've made regarding my career and education, trading financial security in my twenties for some long-term goals I've pushed back. Now that I'm trapped in a career with no way out without risking everything I have, I find myself kicking my own ass for putting myself here.
This, coupled with the losses Chris and I have been dealt this year in losing both of our Grandmas has left me feeling like there's something missing from Christmas that we'll never get back.
Due to the holidays being such miserable bitch-fests between my broken family while I was growing up, it's hard enough for me to enjoy them. My family hadn't spent Christmas with Gram for a number of years before she passed away, despite having grown up going to her house for every holiday, but this year she's gone and that fact solidifies that those days, that joy and union of family, the celebration of together-ness, is gone. What's left is a December I have to juggle between warring factions, watching what I say in front of whichever party is present at whichever dinner I'm attending.
Maybe I'm just depressed because I took a job way beyond my physical, mental, and emotional abilities and skills. I can't go into too much detail, but I was starting to get hopeful when a professional was called in. They were subsequently dashed by the pickiness and eccentricities of both parties involved and now it's back to square one. I've also discovered I have no more hope of getting affordable health care through this job than I did the last.
Anyway, I started this post explaining how this Christmas was nice and ended up dumping my depressive thoughts all over it. Let me start again.
First, I have the best husband in the world. I can't express enough how supportive he is, even when he doesn't really understand my poor articulation of my own feelings. He's just there for me no matter what.
My family, though broken, split and scattered from the Bay Area to the foothills, have managed to come together for sharing the best of us together. My stepmom made Chris and me a quilt, her very first one. That we were her first project says so much about the repair and building of the relationship between me and her. This wouldn't have always been the case.
My mom worked her ass off at her Christmas to have a dinner and gift exchange for no less than seventeen people. I don't know how she does it, but it went off without a hitch. Her and my stepdad bought us a forty-inch television for Christmas, which we never would have been able to afford on our own.
Christmas day we had a quiet and lovely gift exchange and lamb dinner at my In-Laws' place. I was quite comfortable until Chris reminded me I had to work the next day. We stopped by our friend's apartment on the way home and I finally felt like I could get into the Christmas spirit. My friends are expecting a baby and it is so great to see them so happy.
Despite my change in attitude, the next day I breathed a sigh of relief that Christmas was finally one day in the past. I don't think that's perfectly abnormal, even for those who love Christmas. Anyway, it is what it is and it's over now. On to the New Year.
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