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Not My Holiday

Writing yesterday's post cheered me up a little, but I have to get some kind of holiday spirit going before Katherine comes home in a few weeks. I don't like much about Christmas, and I never have. I have no good memories of the holidays from childhood, and too many bad ones. From the gifts to the decorations to the special meals, it's a stressful time that involves a tremendous amount of work. Also, no matter how hard I work, I never feel like I do enough. There is some reward in making others happy, but I've never felt any peace, calm or joy during this time of year. Just thinking about all the things I have to do this month exhausts me.

I know I've whinged about this in the past, but let me rant a little today. I've always concealed my true feelings and pretended to be happy for the sake of others, but when I say my favorite day of the year is December 26th I'm really not joking.

One positive thing I always do at Christmas is donate to a cause I believe in supporting. In years past I've made donations to no-kill animal shelters, veteran programs, an employment initiative for recovering addicts, and family shelters for victims of domestic violence. It's good to remember that no matter how unhappy you are, trust me, there's always someone much more unhappy than you during the holidays.

Spending quality time with someone you love also helps a little. I haven't seen Kat in almost two years now, so I'm really looking forward to her visit. I'll also go for drives with my guy to look at lights. Light displays are one of the very few things I do like about the holidays.

Maybe the most important thing about not liking Christmas is to accept that it's okay. Most of my life I've felt out of step and rather ashamed for my poor attitude, until I was standing in line once with an unhappy gentleman at a store.

It was a typical holiday situation. Everyone around me except the unhappy guy was wearing Christmas-themed clothing, talking about the holidays, and otherwise being of good cheer. Some annoying Christmas music was blaring over the loudspeakers. Cutesy decorations adorned every flat surface around me, and even the air stank of peppermint. I was completely depressed.

The gentlemen standing next to me looked about as miserable as I felt, and bristled when the cashier wished him a Merry Christmas. "Not my holiday," he told her, "I'm Jewish." He then glared at me as if expecting me to shame him. "Not mine, either," I said without thinking. "Happy Hannukah." We smiled at each other, two outcasts in a sea of Christmas lovers, and I finally felt some peace with the season.

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Maria Zannini said…
It's always made me sad that Christmas depresses you. I'm not much for forced frenzy shopping, but I like that people are generally nicer this time of year.
I tend to feel anxious (and overly cautious) this time of year because I've lost so many of my friends and furry family around the holidays.

The only time I get depressed is when we have to do taxes--but I don't think that's limited to me. :o)
December 8, 2022 at 6:24 AM
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