This entry is a work in progress. I’ve started to start this post several times and stopped starting and then restarted. ( I remember some reference in the mis-named Hitchhiker trilogy along these lines.)
So…I decided to stop starting and actually start.
I’m also going to lj-cut these, because they’ll be a bit on the long side.
At first I was going to say “Christmas depresses me.” But decided that depression, like guilt, isn’t something that someone (or something else) can inflict on you. It’s something you inflict on yourself.
I tried explaining this to Ari (which I now abbreviate because I keep forgetting the number of n’s and am embarrassed at how flaky my memory has gotten. Maybe I can blameit on a disease I caught from her dad who has difficulty spelling “Barb”) and she asked me if it was because I would often find myself alone at the holidays or if it was because my parents didn’t really do the Chanukkah thing.(I am amused that the spell checker has flagged that as being misspelled with the ‘C’)
I explained to her that that was the reason that I wasn’t able to post. When I was young I was raised as the spoiled rich kid. Chanukkah was the cavalcade of gifts and the wealth of blue and white decorations. I only comprehended there was some other holiday because I’d actually seen it on TV. When your understanding of Christmas is the “Star Wars Christmas Special; At home with the Wookies” you kind of miss that whole birth of Baby Jesu thing.
When I was 12 our family went to hell. Only I didn’t know it. It was just a surprise when there were no Chanukkah gifts… or b’day for that matter and the only explanation was…it’s been a hard year, it’ll be better next year. And for all of that… that’s irrelevant to this whole season of giving. Granted… not a whole lot of training on the giving thing. I was just supposed to sign the card that the family had picked out and they did the rest. This often made me feel silly.
The whole idea of the X-mas card made me feel silly. Why was putting your wishes of happiness in a $2.00 card (well not as expensive in 1978) any more special than having good wishes for people throughout the year and telling them? Humourously, in ways, I still see this concept through the eyes of a 10-year-old…
So…it’s not the want for gifts. Well, this is nice and all, but doesn’t make a valid or even remotely logical reason for getting depressed at the holidays.
Okay…what about the loneliness factor. I’ve actually had good Christmases with women I’ve dated. We, of course,would go to their family. Partially because there really wasn’t much in the way of X-Mas in my household…but then again…there really wasn’t much of Chanukkah either…for that matter, I’ve avoided my family in general since I was 18 and that has in some ways kept me saner.
I have some wonderful memories with C at her dad’s house and also some very nice memories of a holiday in Brooklyn with L at the P’s. I think it was an event weekend and L was wearing a fantastic piece of garb and I was uncomfortably in the only SCA outfit that I’ve worn tights for.
Yes, I’ve hated the holidays when my SO’s have gone away. But again…I see myself thinking of myself which seems to go against the grain of the season.
Grymble…I’ve hit a writing block in my journal. This often means one of the following:
– I’ve thought myself into a corner and have no idea where to go next
– I think I’m missing facts that would blow a hole in anything I’ve come up with
– I’m blocking a realization that I’m close to that I’m resisting getting any closer to.