I admit it. I loath Christmas. Except for the lights. I love the lights because they are pretty. It’s people I dislike. With every fiber in my being. I cannot stand presents, I don’t like giving them – mostly because I can’t afford to. I hate getting them mostly because people who buy me gifts (With the exception of Kelly Bestie) rarely get me anything I’d use, want, need or even like.
I remember one year my mother’s one and only ever boyfriend got me a hideous doll. I think I was like seven? It was creepy and gross and disgusting. Mom helped me “lose” it one year accidentally on purpose. My brother? He got a pile of brand new trucks. I’m fairly certain he stole everything he gave us.
The next year he tried to convince us that Santa was flying in the sky while mom was putting the presents under the tree. It was one of a thousand things that ruined Christmas for me. I of course noticed, my brother did not. Which meant that for me Christmas was realizing there was no magic in the holiday, because we were all too busy trying to protect it for my brother – who was in my mind at least – always the favorite in the family.
With my one and only boyfriend Christmas was spent filing missing person’s reports and wondering if he’d died because he’d angered the wrong person or worse over dosed on crack or whatever other poison he could find to pump into his veins.
When I started volunteering/working at the Church Christmas was always about making other people feel special. Especially other Children.
We never ever told the kids the toys were donated. Instead we told them that Santa got so busy that he dropped toys off with us so that we could let the kids choose. That way they always felt special.
It became such a work thing that whatever little magic was left over quickly dissolved.
Last year a very good friend of mine had a massive heart attack that ended his career as a police officer.
Also last year a friend of mine that I really wasn’t a very good friend to died from Cancer after giving birth to a miracle child that really shouldn’t have made it. I know I should be happy her son survived and I am. I’m sad however that she did not. That I’ll never be able to make peace with the fact that when she needed me the most I wasn’t able to be there for her.
I’ve never felt special around Christmas time. I know other people do. They see the pretty lights and the magical snow and they feel like they are special, like the memories they create are special.
The other day I saw a mother say no to her child and I watched as he cried, screamed, yelled and started punching and kicking her whenever she refused to look at him because she was busy at Customer Service. I admit it. I had a violent urge to pick the little shit head up by the neck and throw him against a wall.
How dare he?
There are places in the world that don’t Celebrate Christmas at all. Not because they don’t want to, not because they can’t afford to think about Christmas. They’re all too busy hiding in bomb shelters and running from mass killing sociopaths trying to murder them for some far fetched idea of political freedom.
Nope. I don’t like Christmas I never have. I’ve always preferred Halloween. At least then we can be our weird, creepy, oddball selves and celebrate that instead of pretending to be happy surrounded by people that we wouldn’t talk to through out the rest of the year when and if we can avoid it.
I remember one year I tried to convince my neighbour that she should have her kids come and volunteer with us to give out presents to less fortunate children. She was convinced that the guests at our Church would rape and murder her and her children and leave them rotting in an alley somewhere. She wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.
That all being said I’m hoping for something special to happen this year. I don’t know what I want for Christmas. I know I want to smile and laugh and make other people laugh and smile and I want people to find love and joy and happiness and maybe if the God’s are kind I’ll find a little Christmas Magic for myself.
Bonus if it comes in the form of a $36 Million Dollar Lottery Ticket. (A Girl can dream can’t she?)
This year I’m hoping things are just a little different, a little happy. More than anything I’m hoping that someone in the world who needs Christmas Magic more than I do finds exactly what they need.
Hoping you have a great one,
All my love,