My Relationship With Christmas

 

As luck would have it, it turns out relationships and I do not have a good relationship. I do not have a “normal” relationship with: food, alcohol, pain pills (even when I need them for legitimate purposes), benzos (even though I could really use them for a sometimes-acute case of anxiety), and, as we will explore in this writing, oddly enough, Christmas.     

I would love to have a normal relationship with Christmas. As it is, I have one that is anything but! I watch wistfully, longingly, jealously, ignorantly (of a normal relationship with Christmas) as others have what appears to be normal relationships with the season, wondering what it would be like or feel like.  

I cannot remember, as an adult, having a normal relationship with Christmas. Instead, it has been a season of mixed, heightened emotions. Early in the season I experience excitement, anticipation – even joy. I enjoy Christmas and the celebrating, and all the festivities that go with it. But as the day itself draws ever nearer, an odd phenomenon begins to occur. The emotions and feelings I experience take a turn for the worse, and change to a mixture of sadness, panic, depression, loss, dread, and grief. Come Christmas Eve, it is at times an almost unbearable mixture of all the above. At the core is an overwhelming sense of dread and loss, making it feel difficult to breath at times. The sense of loss and grief is inescapable and both overwhelms and overtakes me. In Christmases past, I would be so depressed by Christmas Eve that I would be sobbing uncontrollably much of the day. I can remember my ex-wife asking, “It’s Christmas. Why are you crying?” A fair question, indeed; however, one to which, at the time, an answer eluded me. Some years depression rendered me almost unable to get out of bed on Christmas day to open presents.    

More on that later, but first, allow me to give you a front row seat to the shit show that is me "celebrating" Christmas: how I celebrate, the traditions, the strict adherence to them, the drive to keep them, the forces driving me – all that is the madness, the insanity taking place behind the scenes while I am celebrating Christmas. I will look at ways I have celebrated in the past, things I have done continuously throughout my adult life, and the things I have started doing most recently. I will share with you not just those things, but the thinking and the reasoning (or “un”reasoning, as the case may be) behind those things.

Please take a few minutes to take a bathroom break, if necessary, put on something comfortable, pop some popcorn, and pour a beverage of your choice. I recommend a strong adult beverage of your preference, if you are so inclined. Trust me, you are probably going to need it. And lastly, pull up your favorite chair, get comfortable, settle in, and join me on a trip down memory lane and into (at times) a little insanity. I am glad you are here – enjoy your visit.

The Celebration

This one will seem straightforward, until I dive into the madness behind the celebrating itself, which will be in the following section. I have never been much of a Halloween person, truth be told. I have viewed it as an obstacle, or hindrance to the beginning of the Christmas season. In my reasoning, were it not for Halloween, Christmas could get off to an earlier start. Needless to say, but… I begin the Christmas season early. As soon as Halloween ends, I begin the decorating and planning for Christmas. By now, I have already made a list, or more accurately, updated an annual standing list of Christmas movies I will want to watch. In addition, I will begin, or begin adding to a list of presents I will be purchasing for the recipients on said list.  

Decorating early is a must – both inside and out. The more decorations there are, the better. In the movie “A Christmas Story,” Ralphie refers to the BB Gun he wants for Christmas as the “holy grail” of Christmas presents. For me, the “holy grail” of Christmas is not a present, but rather, the Christmas tree, under which the presents will be displayed in all their rightful glory. This is probably my favorite activity of the season – the Christmas tree. I am not unlike Clark Griswold in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” when it comes to the tree. I love everything about it – the hunt (finding the perfect tree) to bringing it in the house (the smell of a pine) and putting it in the stand, to stringing lights on it (1000+, baby) to decorating it!

Another activity I really enjoy is going to light displays. Several that I have seen in recent years are: Coney Island’s light display, the display at Sharon Woods, and the lights at the Cincinnati Zoo. I would be remiss not to mention the light show Candlemaker Light Show, done at a private home.

And then there are the Christmas scents, or in my case, pine. I love the scent of pine during the season, and cannot have enough pine scented tart warmers. And while Yankee Candle is my favorite, I have found a few others that are acceptable. All pine scented though – no other scent will do. I even purchase pine scented soap, which I use for showers throughout the season.

What would the holiday be without Christmas music? I have a Christmas playlist that I listen to every season, and it is eclectic, to say the list. There are two, actually. One with everything from John Denver to metal, and then there is the Statler Brothers Christmas playlist (a must while wrapping presents.) I start listening to Christmas music as soon as Halloween ends, and little else until after the season’s end. I feel lost once Christmas is over and I go back to listening to regular music.  

The Christmas movies begin as early as the music, and it’s a good thing, as my list is a long one. While there is no particular order, I do prioritize them, and will save my favorites until closer to Christmas day. I have a running list of movies, which I will update each year, as new movies come out, and as my tastes may change. However, at the core, there are many movies that always stand the test of time, which I watch year after year.  

While a diagnosis of diabetes has significantly altered the long-standing tradition of Christmas treats, I have always celebrated the season by indulging in a plethora of amazing holiday sweets and treats. If you recall, I stated at the beginning of this writing that I do not have a “normal” relationship with food. Never has it been more evident than at Christmastime. Between baking cookies and buying holiday treats, my tastebuds have always played a major role in my celebrating the season.

And last, and certainly not least, are the presents. Not in the getting, but in the giving. I have always enjoyed giving presents – it has always been a huge factor in the joy I receive during the season. One of the more memorable presents I gave was when I was 18 and still living at home. I gave my parents an entire new living room set for Christmas that year. I begin early, planning what I will purchase for those on my list and go to great lengths to find what I think will bring them joy. And doing so brings me joy in return.

The Madness Within the Celebrating

Here is where that strong beverage of your choice will come in handy. Here is where we depart from the norm and enter the madness that I engage in when celebrating the season. If you are brave enough – or as crazy as I am (a big shout out to you, if the latter is the case), read on, as I get transparent in this section and bare my soul. As Henry Francis Cary says in his own words from Dante Alighieri's Inferno “all hope abandon ye who enter here.” To make it easier to read, and who am I kidding – easier for me to write, I will break each former celebration into sections and delve into the madness therein.

Ladies, gentlemen, or however you identify (all are welcome!) … start your engines (or reading glasses, or bookmarks, or…)  

Decorating

First and most importantly, there is no such thing as too many decorations. If you happen to be visiting while I am decorating and sit in one place very long, I just may attempt to decorate you. I see every doorway, window, walkway, ledge, etc., as an opportunity to decorate. Anything left undecorated is a missed opportunity, and as such is unacceptable. Decorating is not simply decorating – it is a complete and total conversion of the house into a Christmas wonderland. It must “scream” Christmas; anything less “screams” failure and just will not do. Lights, garlands, bows, pinecones, berries, wreaths and more, all must be present and prominently displayed. If, after decorating, there is a bare spot in the house, that spot must be decorated. If there is nothing left to decorate it with, a trip to the store to purchase the necessary item(s) is a must.

Light Displays

Be it commercial, large scale or residential homes, driving through or by light displays is a must. And in driving through these displays, there are several other “must-dos” as well. hot cocoa √, Christmas PJs √, Christmas music √, phone on standby to record video and pictures √. And the timing is critical, as well. We cannot go too close to Christmas, and definitely not afterwards. (more on that soon)

Christmas Scents

There is basically one rule when it comes to scents: pine, pine, and more pine. Oh – and tart warmers over candles, thank you very much. It’s not that I don’t like peppermint, gingerbread, sugar cookies scents, and many of the various other holiday scents, it’s just that pine is the only one that will do. And it must be just the right pine scent, at that. Not just any tart warmer labeled pine will do. They must pass the “smell test,” and very few do. I will have them melting in the background every evening, except for the week following when the tree goes up. I enjoy the natural scent of the tree until it no longer gives off its pine scent, at which time I switch to the tart warmers.

Christmas Music

Beginning early in November, I break out the Christmas music. I do not have an amazon music account, save November – December, which I have solely to listen to the sounds of the season. For the duration of the season, I listen to nothing but Christmas music – all else is fodder until after the season. I have an extensive and eclectic Christmas playlist, everything from country (I loathe country music otherwise) to metal, as well as a separate playlist reserved exclusively for a decades-long music tradition – The Statler Brothers Christmas music. While I rarely listen to them any other time of the year, The Statler Brothers are a “must listen” during the holiday, and never more so than while wrapping presents.

Once the season is over, and I first listen to “non-Christmas” music, I feel lost, and not quite sure what to listen to, as I have grown so accustomed to listening to the sounds of the season. And just as I will not listen to non-holiday music in the time leading up to Christmas, I will not listen to Christmas music once the holiday has passed. Doing so is painful, but more on that to follow soon.

Christmas Movies

Here is where that madness I referred to really intensifies. As I stated earlier, I have a standing list of Christmas movies that I watch every year.

For reasons I have not fully been able to grasp, watching those movies is a must. I watched 40 Christmas movies this season, four cartoons, one Christmas special (a Statler Brothers DVD), and five holiday sitcoms. Not watching even one of said movies/cartoons/shows was not an option. Not doing so would have felt like something terrible had happened – as if I had missed out on something important and vital – as if a large, vital piece of my life would have gone missing. There were times when I would have preferred to stay home and forego going out and partaking in fun, seasonal activities to be able to watch yet another Christmas movie. How insane is that? Turn down going out and partaking in a Christmas activity in order to watch yet another movie, often by myself.  

And there are “rules” (two) to watching these movies. I cannot merely watch them casually and simply enjoy them – oh no, not me. If at any point during the movie I am distracted and miss even the tiniest little bit of the movie (even a movie I have seen a dozen or more times), I must rewind it to the last place I was paying attention and restart it from that point. I know this seems crazy (probably because it is), but I have tried to keep watching without rewinding in those cases where I “missed” something, and a sense of being disturbed and of dread and “missing out” took over and I was driven, as if by an outside force, to rewind to the last place I was paying attention, and start from there. Those attempts to not rewind bothered me so much; I could not enjoy the movie – to the point that I had to rewind. That second rule: I must watch a movie until the very end, and by end, I mean the very end of the credits. And if that’s not weird enough, here’s where it gets even more so. It’s ok to fast forward during the rolling credits until it’s near the end and then watch until the actual end, but I must watch until the credits stop rolling. Failure to do so will result in a feeling of incompleteness and overall lacking.   

Christmas Treats/Sweets

As mentioned earlier, I have never had a “normal” relationship with food. I was obese by three years old, and all through grade school, I was either the fattest or one of the top three fattest kids in the entire school. If you so desire, you can read more about that hell in my memoirs titled “My Journey From Faith to Atheism” here in Part One:  https://jamesexlineatheist.blogspot.com/2018/07/my-journey-from-faith-to-atheism-part.html .

 

Never did that abnormal relationship with food rear its ugly head more so than at Christmastime. My upbringing had caused my emotions to be strongly connected with food, and also led to my having extremely strong emotions regarding Christmas. That combination was certainly not a healthy one, and one that became a driving force behind my celebrating the season. Christmas themed candy and desserts of all sorts: candy cane or peppermint this, peppermint that – especially peppermint bark, and I was all in. I think I single-handedly kept the peppermint bark industry in business for the 2022 season. I had been conditioned to eat my feelings, and the combination of my emotions at Christmas and the plethora of incredible seasonal sweets was more than I could resist. While shopping, whenever I would see any holiday treats – especially sweets, a wellspring of emotions (the season combined with the foods) would spring up within me, and would drive me to buy those treats, and ultimately to eat more of them than one person ever should.

The Christmas Tree   

No other activity or decoration of the season evokes more emotions or prompts more insanity and rules than that of the Christmas tree. First off, I love the entire process of the tree – from the hunt to picking one out to the final ornament. And it must be a real tree – a fake one just will not do. I detest fake trees – let’s call a spade a spade. The term artificial is too nice a word for what it really is.

For starters, it must be a fir tree. Frazer or Canaan or Noble; any of the three are fine, although of the three, I do prefer a Frazer fir. Next, it must be massive. Big enough that it is necessary to trim a little off the top for it to fit in the house. And as to the width, the wider the better. I once had a tree that measured slightly over eight feet at its widest point, and I was in Christmas tree heaven. Also, it must be (nearly) perfect – no big holes, no asymmetry happening, no crooked trunk. A near perfect, tall, wide, huge fir tree. Nothing else will do. One year we got a tree that ended up being much smaller once we got it in the house than I had originally thought it to be. I could not sleep that first night, due to the dread and horror I felt because of the tree not being big enough. I was devastated – it felt as if my world was ending. The feelings I had due to the tree being smaller than I wanted it to be were invasive, overwhelming, and unshakeable. This was unimaginable, and would just not do. This was unacceptable, and the season just would not be right with this paltry, mere six-foot-tall tree. I was shaken to the core; in fact, I think it would be accurate to say that I was traumatized due to the tree being too small. The tree must be massive; if not, it feels as if there is something missing – as if something is not right, as if I am being left out. And as you just read, having a small tree is a traumatic experience for me.   

I go through a ritual beginning the first night the tree is up and decorated that occurs each night just before I go to bed. I will stand in front of the tree (all other lights in the house must be turned off) and simply look at it and admire it. Those damned emotions I mentioned are heightened during these times; I feel as if I am satisfied, as if everything is right with the world, and at least in that moment, everything is ok. And this strange phenomenon will only occur if the tree is big enough, tall enough, wide enough, and nearly perfect enough. Anything less and those feelings will elude me, and in their place, panic will set in. This routine goes on each night until Christmas Eve, but in the meantime, another strange thing begins to happen. In the beginning, I am at peace and content; however, over time, I began to count down the days left to admire the tree. “Just 14, 13, 12…days left”, and the closer it gets to the big day, the less of those initial feelings I have, and the more angst, panic and dread I began to experience, knowing that it will soon be “over.”

Presents

I love presents, and for me the joy comes in giving, not so much in getting. Don’t get me wrong, I love to tear into presents Christmas day as much as the next person. However, it is truly the giving that is a beloved tradition of the season. I begin making a list early, and add to it often. I research those presents exhaustively, until I find what I believe is the one they will enjoy most. I have always bought more than I have received – always. I go overboard for the one I love and care for. Purchasing presents for that person, meticulously wrapping them, and then presenting those presents to that person bring me immense joy.  

And the wrapping! Holy smokes! First off, I purchase wrapping paper, bows, ribbon, and gift tags with the intention of matching them for each present. I am anal about this, and do not take it lightly. Everything must match. I have been known to have a present wrapped – ribbons and bows intact, only to discover that none of the gift tags match. In those cases, the tags I have just will not suffice; a trip to the store to get matching tags is imperative. And those “stick-on” gift tags? Hypocrisy! I just will not use them. It takes me what seems to be forever when wrapping presents. Each one must be “perfect.” I used to get out the tape measure to ensure each the wrapping paper was exactly even. Nowadays I tend to eyeball it or use the scissors to get it as close as possible. I am meticulous with the entire process. I begin the wrapping process early in the season and do a little most days, as 1) I have a lot of presents to wrap 2) being so meticulous is time consuming. It takes me at least two weeks to finish wrapping all the presents and 3) that anxiety I mentioned at the beginning of this writing kicks in after wrapping just a few presents, and I have to stop wrapping at that point.

When it comes to opening presents, you do not open them first thing Christmas morning. Why start with the best part of the day, and then not have it to look forward to all day? There is always one present to open on Christmas Eve, and then you open the stockings first thing Christmas morning. But then the rest of the presents wait to be opened until later that day, so that the mystery and fun is there to be anticipated.

Past Ways I Celebrated

Alcohol

I am in recovery from drugs and alcohol; the latter being my first drug of choice. Remember, I stated at the beginning of this writing that I do not have a normal relationship with several things – alcohol being one. I’ve been sober now just over 13 years; however, when I was drinking, there was no time like Christmas to imbibe. And imbibe I did! My favorite libation of the season was Evan Williams Egg Nog, and my, how I did enjoy it. I would buy a case of it at the start of the season, and by season’s end, that entire case would be gone. There were many a night spent celebrating, that to this day I cannot recall. Back then, if I was celebrating Christmas, I was drinking – the two went hand-in-hand. It was remarkable, once I got sober and watched Christmas movies for the first time as such (ones that I had watched countless times), how many scenes I became aware of for the first time.  

Journals

For several years I kept a daily journal, recording all Christmas activities and more. I would purchase an empty journal book each year, and would start entering each day’s events beginning November 1^st. I recorded every day, even those wherein we did nothing Christmas related. Every little detail – what we did, where we went, dates, times, even what we had for dinner each day. Every detail, regardless of how minuscule or benign it may have been, found itself recorded for prosperity, or for whatever the heck I was writing it all down for. There would be days at a stretch that I would forget to record in the journal, and I would panic, as if a disaster had occurred or was imminent, should I fail to record those days. I would ask my then wife for details of sometimes days at a time, even though many of the day’s occurrences had little or nothing to do with the holiday. I HAD to get every day recorded – without exception. I HAD to record my Christmases.

Losses

If you are still here, still reading, thank you, and bravo. You are either as crazy as the author or more curious than a certain monkey of childhood book reading fame. For your sake, I am going to assume the latter. And as you have seen, my “celebrating” of the season is – well, shall we say, anything but “normal.” I actually have a hypothesis about a reason behind the insanity, which I will get to in the next section. But first, I need to give you some background – a little foundation to the likely reason for that insanity.

That foundation can be summed up in one word. It is such a small word, yet one with such immense ramifications. That one small, yet mighty word…loss. Yep, it is loss, I believe, that plays such a significant role in how my celebration of the season plays out. But before I get to that hypothesis, allow me to indulge in the relaying to you those losses. They are significant and poignant, especially at Christmastime, because the holidays spent with those lost were so memorable and special, prior to their losses. I have experienced more losses than will be recorded here – I am mentioning only those losses that pertain specifically to Christmas.  

There are many, so I will go in chronological order. First up was my maternal grandfather—the person I most admired and looked up to. He had a heart attack while snow birding in Florida. I was 19. My maternal grandmother would follow suite shortly thereafter; she passed away when I was 22. I fondly recall going to their house on Christmas Eve every year during grade school. It was a tradition without which Christmas just would not have been the same. They would have a fire in the fireplace downstairs, and the basement would be decorated – tree and all, and we would have dinner and open presents with them. These memories are some of my happiest of the season from my childhood.

The third loss would shake me to the core – when I was just 24 and she just 59, my mom lost her seven-year battle to multiple myeloma. It was a nasty disease that would eventually rob her of the ability to walk or even to talk. At the heart of all my Christmases growing up was my mom. She was my rock in general growing up, and Christmas was a special time with her. The first Christmas after I had moved out, I bought a huge (remember my love for huge trees) Christmas tree and took it over to my parent’s house to surprise my mom with. I will never forget the look of wonder, awe, and joy on her face as I pulled it through the door into the house. The more tree that came into the house, the wider her eyes got. She was ecstatic, and I truly believe it made her Christmas that year.   

When microwave ovens were first becoming popular, I bought her one for a Christmas present. And as you read earlier, I bought my parents a new living room set for a present one year. Mom always made Christmas extra special for us kids growing up. She always went out of her way to give us the presents we wanted, and did kind, thoughtful little things that showed us how loved we were. Christmas truly was special because of mom – as a child, and even more so as an adult. I still have a picture of her standing in front of their tree wearing the dress I gave her for Christmas. She was several years into her cancer diagnosis by then, and you can see it on her face. However, the look of joy in her eyes outshines any sickness that may be there. I will always treasure that picture.   

By the time I was just 24, I had lost the three closest people to me. However, death was just getting warmed up, and I had only just begun to experience its losses and devastation in my life. 

The grim reaper would avoid me for a little over a decade, until it reared its ugly head once again in 2006. That would be the first of two years with two major losses each year. That first year was 2006, and in it, my absolute best friend Steve died—on my 41st birthday. August 5, 2006. My wife and I had just come home from a birthday celebration dinner, to a message on the answering machine, informing us that Steve had died earlier that evening.

One of my favorite Christmas Eves was when my dad (This was several years after my mom had died) and my best friend Steve went to church with us and then came back to our place for dinner and to visit and exchange a few presents. That would have been 1998 or thereabouts, as near as I can recall. To this day, I still reminisce about that Christmas Eve, a bittersweet memory, to be sure. On Christmas of 2005, Steve gave my ex-wife and me a lighted baker snowman for a present. The baker aspect because I love to bake; the snowman because she collected snowmen. I still have that snowman and put it out every Christmas. It has become one of my most cherished decorations. That would be the last Christmas I would get to spend with my friend – he would go on to pass away that following year. 

As bad as all these were, it was to get worse—much worse! The second year with two losses was not far around the corner. 2008. My father, with whom I had become close, was the first of the two losses that year. He died May of 2008. Then, almost at the end of that same year—mid-December, while wrapping Christmas presents nonetheless, I got the phone call no parent wants to receive. A phone call informing me that Ryan, my son and only child, had been killed in a car accident. He was just 22. My world was rocked and will never be the same.

This one is the most difficult to write about, as I lost Ryan twice. The Christmases I spent with him were some of the best of my life. I still remember his first one (He was born just the previous month), he in his bassinet, lying under the tree, staring up at it in awe (at least I like to think so). The times we celebrated together – decorating the tree, then watching a holiday movie, and eating pumpkin ice cream, driving around town, and looking at lights, opening presents Christmas morning. Ryan made the holidays better – simply by being there. I loved my boy; I loved being a dad. His making me a dad was the greatest gift ever bestowed upon me, and I cherished it like I have never cherished anything since, or ever will again.  

But this section is about loss, and earlier I mentioned losing him twice. He was 22 when he was killed in that damned car accident, which is the second time I lost him. The first time occurred when his mother decided she no longer wanted him to be in my life.

She began what would become a successful seven-year campaign to ensure that Ryan would not be in my life whatsoever. At first, it was the phone calls to him from her when I had him, followed by wrapped presents she would send him during my visitation time. He would talk with her or open his presents and letters from her, and then come out of his room crying, saying that he wanted to go home.  Eventually, she would up the ante, scheduling fun trips to Myrtle Beach, or equally enticing vacations, during the times that I was supposed to have him. All of this, coupled with the trash talk by his mom and her boyfriend about me and my wife, eventually had their intended affect—Ryan started to not want to come when it was my time to have him. At one point, she even took me to court to take away all my visitation rights. The judge saw right through her BS and increased my time with Ryan over the summer from two weeks to six weeks. Alas, this only heightened her resolve to succeed in keeping him from me. Shortly after the court date, I drove the normal two hours to pick Ryan up for my court appointed time with him. He was in the car and handed me a piece of paper in his handwriting stating when he would and would not come visit. Although it was in his handwriting, it was obvious that he had been coached as to what to write. Once he handed me the paper, his mom came out of the store where she had been hiding, got in the car, and she and her boyfriend drove off—with Ryan still in the car!

Eventually, Ryan quit answering my calls, and would go on to have nothing to do with me. He was 12 the last time I saw him, and as you read earlier, he died in an automobile accident 10 years later.

I would like to say that Ryan’s death was the last of my losses of those close to me, but unfortunately, there would be one more. Carolyn, my cousin on my dad’s side, that I had spent many holidays with, died in 2011 while I was in rehab. She was just 67. We had been getting together with her and her family for Thanksgiving every year since my mom had died, and we had started a newer tradition of going to her house over the Christmas season as well. Thanksgiving and Christmas have never been quite the same since she died.

I have had an on-again, off-again relationship with my sister for most of our adult lives. It currently is in an off-again status, and has been so for several years. Each time the relationship is ended, it is at her doing, and over little, seemingly meaningless things. She will get angry and immediately cut off all communication, and it will be that way, at times, for as long as a decade. When we do speak, we always enjoy celebrating Christmas together, which makes the seasons when we are not communicating that much more painful. My brother (her twin) and I have a good relationship – as good as is possible, being that he has several mental deficiencies. His mental state and intellect are that of an immature 10-12-year-old. As such, while I am grateful for it, communication with him is limited, and unfulfilling at best.

Unfortunately, my losses have not just been attributed to death; although that is certainly bad enough. Upon completing rehab and getting sober, and doing extensive work to make me a better, improved, sober me, I had high hopes that my then wife, with whom I had celebrated almost two decades worth of Christmases, would recognize those efforts, and consider getting back together and giving our marriage another try. Sadly, that would not be the case; in fact, not only did she not want to give our marriage another chance, she wrote me an email just days after our divorce was final. The contents, in part, of that email stated, “Well, it’s over. Our marriage was a mistake. I don’t love you and I never did.”

The woman I met within 10 months of returning to Ohio is the most recent to be added to this ever-growing list of losses that impact the holiday. I had been single the better part of a decade (save a fiasco in the early 2010s in Florida that I won’t get into here), and was elated when we met and hit it off. We got engaged and things were going well until I got sick and became disabled and unable to work. After three years of being together and as many amazing Christmases together, she ended the relationship because, in her words, “I don’t want to be with someone who’s disabled. I’m not your caretaker. I didn’t sign up for this.” Not that I wanted, asked for or needed a caretaker, but nonetheless, those were her exact words, and my heart was once again shattered, and I once again find myself joining the ranks of the singles, and worse, celebrating Christmases without a partner once again. 

My Hypothesis

So, you’ve read about how I celebrate the season, the madness therein, and my losses. Take all those, mix them together, and you have the makings for what I believe is why I approach the season as I do. I believe it is a combination of past traditions with loved ones now gone – left either via death or breakup, that has led to why I celebrate the season the ways I do, including the madness therein.  

Although I didn’t mention it, abuse in my childhood and adolescence also plays a role in my hypothesis. My childhood was riddled with abuse at the hands of my father, be it literally from his hands, a belt, a branch from the tree that I had to get, shoes – whatever was close and convenient to help him carry out one of his many fits of rage. As a kid at Christmastime, I would often look out the window across the street, drawn to the light in the neighbor’s windows. I would look wistfully into their windows, as if longing for something inside their homes that was missing in mine. I mentioned to my sister that I would look longingly into the neighbor’s window wanting something, to which she replied, “Yeah – a home with no abuse.” One of the few exceptions, however, was Christmastime –especially Christmas Eve and Day. On those days, my father was a little kinder, more patient, and easy-going. On those days, it (almost) felt like a (somewhat) normal family, although I must admit, I had no idea what a normal family would have felt like. 

So, how does all of this play a role in the making of my hypothesis? Here is what I have surmised, as best I could…

As you have read, at one time, there were a lot of very special people who played a significant role in my Christmas celebrations. During the holidays, special memories and traditions were created, that remain near and dear to me to this day. Growing up, Christmastime felt almost magical – closer to a “normal, real” family than most other times of the year.

Those times that I celebrated the season; whether as a kid at home, or as an adult in my own home left an indelible mark upon my very being. Looking back, some of my fondest memories are of Christmases spent with friends and loved ones who have long since passed. Those times were some of the highlights of my life – opening presents with my son Ryan, seeing the look on my mom’s face when she saw her living room set and when she opened her microwave, spending that Christmas Eve with my best friend Steve, or opening that snowman gift from him another year, driving around looking at lights or through a light display with my most recent ex, planning how to surprise her with a favorite gift, flying my siblings down to Florida and decorating my place for the season, putting the ornaments from my grandparents tree on my tree every year… 

It was those special feelings and emotions I would experience with loved ones during the season that play a role in my Christmases today.  

Poignant memories and feelings like those experienced while celebrating Christmases with loved ones long ago will surface once again at the beginning of each holiday season. Thus, the excitement and joy and eager anticipation of the upcoming Christmas each year. And it is here, with these feelings, where my hypothesis begins.

As the season begins, I experience joy, happiness, excitement, and more. This continues for the first two to three weeks, until I sense the season’s end. Once that happens, my emotions associated with the season begin to nosedive. What once was joy and excitement begin turning into sadness, depression, dread, and grief. This typically occurs one week or so into December. It is then that the obvious becomes the inevitable, which is that it will all soon be over. It looks something like “In ‘x’ number of weeks or days it (Christmas) will be over,” and a dread comes over me and overshadows any previously experienced positive emotions and feelings in regards to the holiday. 

And while I no longer am sobbing by Christmas Eve, I am utterly depressed and shattered, and at times feel as if I won’t be able to catch my breath, or to breath. This nearly unbearable, miserable depression, sadness, and dread begin two to three weeks prior to Christmas day and intensify exponentially as the big day draws closer. With each passing day, that mass of misery gets worse, until it is almost impossible to truly enjoy Christmas Eve and day. I feel devastated, shattered, broken – as if my heart has been ripped out and I have been left behind – alone, unloved, and uncared for.  

I have since come to realize – and here is that hypothesis I have been going on about: the emotion I am most experiencing during the holiday (especially towards the end of the season) nowadays is grief. The holidays were so emotional (in a good way) and so joyful and were such amazing experiences in the past with my since lost loved ones – whether lost to death, divorce, or break-up, that they burned that indelible image and memory of those loved ones forever in my mind. And nowadays, when the season rolls around, it immediately conjures up déjà vu and memories of loved ones lost. Those memories and thoughts of loved ones are very vivid and intense, and accompany those emotions of excitement and joy at the start of the season. And thus, begins anew every year those traditions I have laid out here – the oft times maddening adherence to a long list of “must-do” activities, traditions, and celebrations. Adherence to the list and to the “proper ways” to celebrate each thing is imperative; any deviation is deemed a major transgression.

For the first part of the season, all is right with the world. I enjoy the season, its festivities, and the celebrations thereof. However, as soon as I am reminded (usually by the calendar) that the end is inevitable, I become sad and depressed, and dread overtakes me. And as you have read, by season’s end, I am an emotional wreck.

I believe that those feelings of joy and anticipation that I experience with the onset of the season are my feeling a connection to those lost loved ones, and consequently – and subconsciously, as if I am “getting” them back once again into my life. As I experience those celebrations and traditions that I at one time experienced with them, it feels subconsciously as if they have reentered my life and, if only temporarily, that I have not lost them. And this is why, I believe, that I have such a strict adherence to a list of rules that I must follow, when it comes to celebrating the season. “If I follow these traditions that I practiced when they were living – decorate, trim the tree, wrap the presents, etc., just right, I will “get, or have” my loved ones back. This is all happening subconsciously in the back of my mind; however, it is driving me to continue the madness, season after season.

And this is ultimately what I realized, why I used to sob on Christmas Eve – why I could barely get out of bed to open presents on Christmas day. That overwhelming, crushing grief I feel is me feeling and experiencing those losses all over again. As the season draws to a close, that means that those celebrations and traditions, the likes of which trigger and bring to life, so to speak, the memories of lost loves to the point of “having them” once again, are soon coming to an end, and with those endings, “having them” (those lost loved ones) again is coming to an end. In other words, I am losing all those loved ones once again. I am experiencing those losses all over again. Every single. Christmas. Each season, I experience (albeit subconsciously, it is still just as painful) the “regaining” of lost loves ones into my life, only to then experience the painful, anguish, wrenching despair and heartache of losing them all over again.

Any seasonal activities after the holiday are extremely painful. For example, hearing Christmas music or watching a Christmas movie after Christmas day is difficult for me. It is akin to going through old love letters, or looking at Facebook memories of an ex who has broken my heart, or of going through the personal effects of a loved one who has passed. Either scenario stirs up memories of something and someone who is no more, and is no longer in my life. The negative feelings that one would have in those situations are exactly the feelings I have when engaging in seasonal activities post-Christmas. Doing anything related to the season after it has ended is extremely agonizing, and I try to avoid anything related to Christmas as much as possible once the big day has passed. The very things that evoke joy at the beginning of the season evoke sadness, depression, grief, and despair come season’s end and thereafter. Any activities after the season serve only serve as painful reminders of loved ones lost.  

It took me decades to come to this conclusion – to form this hypothesis. While knowing this helps to some extent, it certainly does not eliminate the anguish and grief of the season. What’s the saying? Knowledge is power? I think in this case, knowledge is simply that – knowledge. 

Although I am unsure how or if it even does fit into my hypothesis, I feel there is something else that is noteworthy of relaying here. I used to have very vivid dreams about Christmas that ended only a few years ago. In these dreams, the same scenario always took place. Whether I was with my mom, or at home with my wife, it was Christmas Eve (season’s end), and I had not yet purchased either a tree or presents for others. In the dreams, I would make a mad dash in a desperate attempt to find a tree or presents.

Those frantic attempts would always end in failure. The tree would look huge outside, but when I would bring it inside and put it up, it would be extremely small – just two to three feet tall. And those presents would be as elusive as a current Super Bowl win is to the Steelers – nowhere to be found. An overwhelming sentiment filled those dreams: I could not believe it was Christmastime already. In each dream, it literally felt as if it had been Christmas just days or weeks ago, and I was astonished that it was Christmas again already. 

There is one more phenomenon that I want to convey to you, regarding the season, that I think is also particularly worthy of noting here. And that is, in addition to the many emotions and other aspects, the similarity between my relationship with Christmas and a relationship between two partners. One wherein one partner is madly in love with the other and all in, and the second is not invested in the relationship, and the love given them is not reciprocated.

By season’s end, along with the plethora of other emotions that I experience, there is one more – one you may be surprised to learn about. That other emotion, while somewhat hidden behind the other, more active emotions, is relief. I experience some relief at the end of each Christmas season, almost as in the case mentioned above: having given my all to an inattentive partner who has not returned my love or matched my efforts. It is as if I am exhausted in trying to get out of the season what it just cannot give me, and finally, after having given it my all for so long and becoming exhausted in so doing, as well as the futility therein, relief comes in the stopping of the celebrating of the season. It is as if after having tried for so long, so vigorously, yet unsuccessfully to “keep” those lost loved ones, relief comes in the letting go of the keeping of those traditions and in the celebrating the season. This relief comes similarly as it would in no longer trying to gain the affection of that partner who is no longer interested. 

Wrapping It Up (See What I Did There?)

And so, you have reached the conclusion of my writing about my relationship with Christmas. Unfortunately, this is not a conclusion for me. For me, the madness will continue. Another season will come, and I will begin the Christmas tradition “dance” anew. And those damned emotions will run the gamut yet another year – from joy and anticipation to grief and loss. I have had therapy for my crazy relationship with Christmas. Perhaps that is why I no longer sob on Christmas Eve. Perhaps that is why I no longer have difficulty getting out of bed to open presents. And perhaps that is why I no longer have those vivid Christmas dreams. Perhaps; however, there is still a lot to work on, if I am ever to have a “normal” relationship with Christmas. Perhaps.

Merry Christmas. May your celebrations be joyous and your relationship with the season be normal.