I've taken a bit of a hiatus from the blog world. It's not because life has been dull and there's been nothing on my mind. Quite the opposite to be honest.
My husband has been off work (sorta) since December 20th. He started his holiday break a day early when a snow storm kept him from leaving town.
He has been working on occasion, but not like he had. By the time he started his holiday break, I think I was beyond frustrated with his busy schedule. So much so that it took me a couple days to relax and begin enjoying the time with him.
It has been a full year since he has taken a break like this and it's been wonderful.
As I sit here tonight, I find myself a bit emotional at the idea that we only have one day left of the break. I'm not ready for it to be over. I'm not ready for him to head back to work on Wednesday.
It's been a relaxing and yet full 12 days.
We've stayed up late and slept in. We had breakfast together most days. Waffles, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy. We've cleaned and done laundry together. Watched tv and movies. Gone out with friends.
Mostly, we've just taken time to be with each other. Laughing and crying (yes, a Christmas trip back home was difficult) together.
After a emotionally stressful year, it has been wonderful to end it by just having quality time with my husband.
Sure, I have and will continue to reflect on the past year. I'm sure I will look at goals and plans for the next year. But for now, I just want to continue to enjoy the time with my husband.
The super, awesome, fantastic, wonderful news is that provided we do not have any disruptions, in 16 days we will have another 12 days together where he doesn't work. And, 7 of those days will be cell and computer free!!!!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
$2 Bill
I'm not sure why, but sometimes I'm reminded of sweet little things that happened in the past and today was no different. Unfortunately, most of the time the sweet little things are often clouded by the ugly, terrible or evil and today was no different.
First of all let me say that I do NOT go out shopping on Christmas eve, especially with only 3 hours of sleep. So today was a new experience for me. Secondly, my husband is a ROCKSTAR!!! We went to the mall, pet store, Walmart and Hyvee in less than 2 hours and he scored front row parking at both the mall and Walmart.
As we drove by a couple banks, I saw older men walking into the lobbies. Because my brain now powers down, I wondered as I usually do what they must be doing. Making last minute deposits to cover their wives' shopping sprees? Year end banking before leaving town? Avoiding the shoppers and getting cash for gifts?
It must have been how my Grandpa looked on Christmas Eve as he walked into the bank at home. As far back as I can remember, my grandpa would go to the bank and get $2 bills for each of the grand kids. A $2 bill wasn't just a rarity, but for us poor kids it was a lot of money. He would hand them out to us on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. We would hang onto them as if they were gold.
Looking back on it, I fondly think of it as one of our rare, but unique family traditions. A tradition that eventually stopped, but one I remember so well.
When I was little, I would hold onto my $2 bills tightly. I'd add them to the $5 I got from a set of great-grandparents. Sometimes, I'd hold onto the $7 for a couple years in a row. Eventually, I would take my small (ginormous to me) pile of cash to the bank and deposit it into my savings account.
I still have the little hand written bank book where you can see small deposits made every few years. That was long before everything was electronic.
It was as an adult I found that little bank book. The deposits were mostly there, I think. I had one deposit of $25 when I was in elementary school. I won a Farm Bureau safety poster drawing/coloring contest.
To spare you the details, my mom wiped out every penny from that account. Never for me, but for herself.
Of course, the sweet memory is also marred by the terrible things my grandpa did. It kind of takes the innocence and kindness away when you know the kind of man he was then.
The bad erases the good and life continues to go on. However, I do wonder if I would have carried over any of these traditions if I'd had kids. Maybe!
First of all let me say that I do NOT go out shopping on Christmas eve, especially with only 3 hours of sleep. So today was a new experience for me. Secondly, my husband is a ROCKSTAR!!! We went to the mall, pet store, Walmart and Hyvee in less than 2 hours and he scored front row parking at both the mall and Walmart.
As we drove by a couple banks, I saw older men walking into the lobbies. Because my brain now powers down, I wondered as I usually do what they must be doing. Making last minute deposits to cover their wives' shopping sprees? Year end banking before leaving town? Avoiding the shoppers and getting cash for gifts?
It must have been how my Grandpa looked on Christmas Eve as he walked into the bank at home. As far back as I can remember, my grandpa would go to the bank and get $2 bills for each of the grand kids. A $2 bill wasn't just a rarity, but for us poor kids it was a lot of money. He would hand them out to us on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. We would hang onto them as if they were gold.
Looking back on it, I fondly think of it as one of our rare, but unique family traditions. A tradition that eventually stopped, but one I remember so well.
When I was little, I would hold onto my $2 bills tightly. I'd add them to the $5 I got from a set of great-grandparents. Sometimes, I'd hold onto the $7 for a couple years in a row. Eventually, I would take my small (ginormous to me) pile of cash to the bank and deposit it into my savings account.
I still have the little hand written bank book where you can see small deposits made every few years. That was long before everything was electronic.
It was as an adult I found that little bank book. The deposits were mostly there, I think. I had one deposit of $25 when I was in elementary school. I won a Farm Bureau safety poster drawing/coloring contest.
To spare you the details, my mom wiped out every penny from that account. Never for me, but for herself.
Of course, the sweet memory is also marred by the terrible things my grandpa did. It kind of takes the innocence and kindness away when you know the kind of man he was then.
The bad erases the good and life continues to go on. However, I do wonder if I would have carried over any of these traditions if I'd had kids. Maybe!
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Christmas Eve
I would love to be asleep, but an emotionally draining morning led to a three hour nap and me being wide awake.
It's officially Christmas Eve, which could be part of the reason for the emotionally draining morning I had.
With the exception of a couple loaves of bread, all of my baking is done. Cake pops are all finished, delivered and probably consumed. Christmas is all purchased, wrapped and under the tree. An instrumental medley of Christmas music is playing and the lights are twinkling.
All that is left to do is celebrate the birth of the Savior. That's all that should be left, anyway.
I don't know what you are doing tonight, maybe wrapping gifts or doing last minute baking. Maybe you are prepping your home for family or maybe you are already enjoying those who have traveled to see you. Maybe you are in route or prepping to travel to see family.
Me, I sit here filled with grief. It isn't that I focus on the negative or enjoy the sadness. It really is a completely natural thing to grieve big losses at this time of year.
Tomorrow night, we will make the 2 1/2 trek to SE Kansas to spend time with my husband's family. It really is the only time of year that we spend any quantity of time with them. But just the thought this year makes me anxious and sick.
This has been a tough year in so many ways and one of those has been with this family. His mom has continued to mentally decline. His dad has struggled with a couple health issues while doing his best to care for his wife. The family dynamic has changed with the hub of the family now permanently impaired. I'm heartbroken for my husband and his family, praying for some semblance of happy Christmas' past at least one more year.
I can't get excited about the visit. His siblings have a serious dislike of me (I've been told hate might be a bit strong, even though I'm convinced they do hate me). His niece and nephew are young adults who often act like elementary school children. I'm not exaggerating when I say the family as a whole will ignore me and be happier if I am isolated to a part of the house where they cannot see me. It will be miserable, as usual.
I will be with a family who doesn't want me around while I'm grieving another family who doesn't want me either. Just a little over 10 minutes away, my family will be celebrating Christmas.
Don't get me wrong, I'm positive that they will be dysfunctionally celebrating because they are incapable of doing it any other way.
My brothers, sister-in-law, nieces and nephews....it's another painful Christmas away from them. They won't contact me, no Christmas cards. I won't contact them, it's too hard. So close, yet so far away. I will think about them all day long and hold onto that unrealistic hope that they will be something they aren't or do something they won't.
I've got to be honest, I have been praying about this. I've prayed for a miracle. I've prayed that my anxiety and sadness would all be pushed aside by the love of my family. I've prayed that the same God who moved mountains would also bring repentance and redemption to my family. I've prayed that the same God who put the stars in the sky would purge the evil from my parents' hearts and replace it with a genuine love for me. A true Christmas miracle that would all be.
Sadly, I don't have the kind of faith to believe any of that could ever happen. I think I need to stick to just praying for the strength to get through it all until it doesn't hurt so much. The grief is fairly significant this year. Maybe getting through is going to have to be the Christmas miracle I have to settle for this year.
It's officially Christmas Eve, which could be part of the reason for the emotionally draining morning I had.
With the exception of a couple loaves of bread, all of my baking is done. Cake pops are all finished, delivered and probably consumed. Christmas is all purchased, wrapped and under the tree. An instrumental medley of Christmas music is playing and the lights are twinkling.
All that is left to do is celebrate the birth of the Savior. That's all that should be left, anyway.
I don't know what you are doing tonight, maybe wrapping gifts or doing last minute baking. Maybe you are prepping your home for family or maybe you are already enjoying those who have traveled to see you. Maybe you are in route or prepping to travel to see family.
Me, I sit here filled with grief. It isn't that I focus on the negative or enjoy the sadness. It really is a completely natural thing to grieve big losses at this time of year.
Tomorrow night, we will make the 2 1/2 trek to SE Kansas to spend time with my husband's family. It really is the only time of year that we spend any quantity of time with them. But just the thought this year makes me anxious and sick.
This has been a tough year in so many ways and one of those has been with this family. His mom has continued to mentally decline. His dad has struggled with a couple health issues while doing his best to care for his wife. The family dynamic has changed with the hub of the family now permanently impaired. I'm heartbroken for my husband and his family, praying for some semblance of happy Christmas' past at least one more year.
I can't get excited about the visit. His siblings have a serious dislike of me (I've been told hate might be a bit strong, even though I'm convinced they do hate me). His niece and nephew are young adults who often act like elementary school children. I'm not exaggerating when I say the family as a whole will ignore me and be happier if I am isolated to a part of the house where they cannot see me. It will be miserable, as usual.
I will be with a family who doesn't want me around while I'm grieving another family who doesn't want me either. Just a little over 10 minutes away, my family will be celebrating Christmas.
Don't get me wrong, I'm positive that they will be dysfunctionally celebrating because they are incapable of doing it any other way.
My brothers, sister-in-law, nieces and nephews....it's another painful Christmas away from them. They won't contact me, no Christmas cards. I won't contact them, it's too hard. So close, yet so far away. I will think about them all day long and hold onto that unrealistic hope that they will be something they aren't or do something they won't.
I've got to be honest, I have been praying about this. I've prayed for a miracle. I've prayed that my anxiety and sadness would all be pushed aside by the love of my family. I've prayed that the same God who moved mountains would also bring repentance and redemption to my family. I've prayed that the same God who put the stars in the sky would purge the evil from my parents' hearts and replace it with a genuine love for me. A true Christmas miracle that would all be.
Sadly, I don't have the kind of faith to believe any of that could ever happen. I think I need to stick to just praying for the strength to get through it all until it doesn't hurt so much. The grief is fairly significant this year. Maybe getting through is going to have to be the Christmas miracle I have to settle for this year.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Different Questions
Unless you have been hiding in a hole for the past week, then you obviously know about the shooting in a Connecticut elementary school. Since it has permeated every bit of media coverage, you probably know more than you want.
While everyone seemingly struggles to understand why this would happen or what kind of person could do this, my thinking veers off in a completely different direction.
I wonder why too. Why are people so shocked by this? I'm so tired of the shock factor of this. Are people living in such a fantasy world that they don't believe this kind of thing happens? What's worse is that the general population has this same shock each and every time something like this happens.
Don't get me wrong, I am not saying it isn't sad. I'll get to that later. I will also admit that my background makes me quite cynical and numb to this sort of thing.
I've had guns pointed at my head, trigger pulled only to be lucky enough that it was the empty chamber. I've been shot at multiple times. I've been stabbed. I've had knives held to my neck. I've been choked to the point of not breathing. Some of that happened before I was a teenager. I've been face to face with true evil.
Bad things happen everyday. Adults, children, elderly, disabled...nobody is immune.
To live with shock over this is essentially saying that you believe we live in a perfect world and everything is roses and sunshine. That's simply not true.
I saw so many friends post on fb and heard so many reporters saying that they would be hugging their children a little tighter after that massacre.
Really?
Granted, I don't have children so my view might again be jaded somewhat. Shouldn't you be hugging your children everyday like there is no tomorrow? We aren't promised tomorrow. Regardless of the season of life or the difficulty of the child, your love and affection should be given freely and not come conditional on some fear that you could somehow lose your child in a horrific way.
Another thing I keep asking is if people are truly as ignorant as they come across.
I've heard on tv and read on fb people referring to mental illness as being similar to or equal to demon possession. If this is your belief, you are wrong. Be careful how you categorize people verbally or even in your heart. I understand you are only trying to make sense of an irrational tragedy. However, ignorant rants only distance you from and hurt those around you who do have mental health issues. Mental health care in the US is terrible and comes with a horrible stigma. Let's not make this worse.
mental illness.
People, government leaders included, are looking at tighter gun control as a form of preventing this in the future. On the same day as this tragedy, an entire class of students in China was stabbed. Granted, nobody died but it is still lives that will be forever changed by a tragedy. The focus really does need to be on mental health.
This next year, the mental health care guidelines are changing and it's not good. The worst case scenarios of mental illness need the most help. Sometimes that is multiple visits to a professional each week, extended sessions, inpatient care or medications that are extremely expensive. Let me share something from personal experience.
I am covered by two health insurance companies. There are only three professionals within 30 minutes of home who specialize in my particular diagnosis. All of them accept one of my insurances, but not the other. So, this year, I could go to a psychologist multiple times a week for 90 minutes each session. My first insurance would cover 50% of the visit and the second would cover 50% of the leftover once my $1500 out-of-network deductible was met.
Simplified - $180 for one session would have $90 paid by primary and $45 (once deductible met) would be paid by secondary. That's $3750 out-of-pocket for a year of mental health care with 2 insurances.
This year, I can only get a 60 minute session. My out-of-pocket deductible is higher. Flex spending contributions are lower. Coverage for sessions is worse.
Simplified - $120 for one session would have $45 paid by primary and $35 paid by secondary (once $2000 deductible is met, which it won't be). To go weekly, it would cost out-of-pocket $3750 for less care.
Less coverage with more restrictions on care. There is a problem!
I don't want to close without touching on the true sadness of this. It is incredibly sad for the families, friends, teachers and country. It's too many lives cut short, that should have been. There is no way around that. It's sad.
I can't help but feel sad for the shooter's family. This was obviously not a healthy person, he was a sick person.
If nothing else comes of this, I hope that there can be focus put back on caring for mental illness. I hope that this extreme loss will make real the need for better and more mental health care.
While everyone seemingly struggles to understand why this would happen or what kind of person could do this, my thinking veers off in a completely different direction.
I wonder why too. Why are people so shocked by this? I'm so tired of the shock factor of this. Are people living in such a fantasy world that they don't believe this kind of thing happens? What's worse is that the general population has this same shock each and every time something like this happens.
Don't get me wrong, I am not saying it isn't sad. I'll get to that later. I will also admit that my background makes me quite cynical and numb to this sort of thing.
I've had guns pointed at my head, trigger pulled only to be lucky enough that it was the empty chamber. I've been shot at multiple times. I've been stabbed. I've had knives held to my neck. I've been choked to the point of not breathing. Some of that happened before I was a teenager. I've been face to face with true evil.
Bad things happen everyday. Adults, children, elderly, disabled...nobody is immune.
To live with shock over this is essentially saying that you believe we live in a perfect world and everything is roses and sunshine. That's simply not true.
I saw so many friends post on fb and heard so many reporters saying that they would be hugging their children a little tighter after that massacre.
Really?
Granted, I don't have children so my view might again be jaded somewhat. Shouldn't you be hugging your children everyday like there is no tomorrow? We aren't promised tomorrow. Regardless of the season of life or the difficulty of the child, your love and affection should be given freely and not come conditional on some fear that you could somehow lose your child in a horrific way.
Another thing I keep asking is if people are truly as ignorant as they come across.
I've heard on tv and read on fb people referring to mental illness as being similar to or equal to demon possession. If this is your belief, you are wrong. Be careful how you categorize people verbally or even in your heart. I understand you are only trying to make sense of an irrational tragedy. However, ignorant rants only distance you from and hurt those around you who do have mental health issues. Mental health care in the US is terrible and comes with a horrible stigma. Let's not make this worse.
mental illness.
People, government leaders included, are looking at tighter gun control as a form of preventing this in the future. On the same day as this tragedy, an entire class of students in China was stabbed. Granted, nobody died but it is still lives that will be forever changed by a tragedy. The focus really does need to be on mental health.
This next year, the mental health care guidelines are changing and it's not good. The worst case scenarios of mental illness need the most help. Sometimes that is multiple visits to a professional each week, extended sessions, inpatient care or medications that are extremely expensive. Let me share something from personal experience.
I am covered by two health insurance companies. There are only three professionals within 30 minutes of home who specialize in my particular diagnosis. All of them accept one of my insurances, but not the other. So, this year, I could go to a psychologist multiple times a week for 90 minutes each session. My first insurance would cover 50% of the visit and the second would cover 50% of the leftover once my $1500 out-of-network deductible was met.
Simplified - $180 for one session would have $90 paid by primary and $45 (once deductible met) would be paid by secondary. That's $3750 out-of-pocket for a year of mental health care with 2 insurances.
This year, I can only get a 60 minute session. My out-of-pocket deductible is higher. Flex spending contributions are lower. Coverage for sessions is worse.
Simplified - $120 for one session would have $45 paid by primary and $35 paid by secondary (once $2000 deductible is met, which it won't be). To go weekly, it would cost out-of-pocket $3750 for less care.
Less coverage with more restrictions on care. There is a problem!
I don't want to close without touching on the true sadness of this. It is incredibly sad for the families, friends, teachers and country. It's too many lives cut short, that should have been. There is no way around that. It's sad.
I can't help but feel sad for the shooter's family. This was obviously not a healthy person, he was a sick person.
If nothing else comes of this, I hope that there can be focus put back on caring for mental illness. I hope that this extreme loss will make real the need for better and more mental health care.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Christmas Card from Hell #2
On December 6, 2011, I wrote a blog post called "Christmas Cards from Hell." It was the day I received my only communication from my dad's parents. It ignited some pretty strong emotion in me. Last year, I was angered and hurt by the impersonal signature.
Oddly enough today, December 6, 2012, I received my once a year communication from those same grandparents.
For the first time ever, there was a small paragraph written in the card. They actually asked how we were doing and hoped we were doing well. They shared that my grandpa will be having a knee replacement this week.
I think the small paragraph was almost as painful as nothing at all. You would think that I'd be happier with something instead of nothing. The truth is that it's all painful.
Did it take six years for them to figure out that they haven't seen me at a family dinner? Has it really taken six years to notice that they haven't spoken to me?
When I spent a few hours with my brother this summer, I was excited that the visit was beyond my expectations. In the smallest part of my heart, I've tucked away this tiny bit of hope that the holidays would some how be different this year.
For reasons too numerous to list, I know additional contact with my family would be unhealthy. Extended contact with them would come with a very high price. Being near my parents intentionally could easily unravel five years of therapy and progress. But, I still held onto to some unrealistic hope that I'd go through the holidays with some semblance of family.
So, it's good and bad that nothing has come of the wonderful visit I had with him.
This part of the holidays doesn't seem to ever get any better. In fact, it only seems to get more and more painful. Probably the only thing that improves year after year is my ability to hide that pain from those who know me.
I just don't know if I can bare to go through another unstable, highly emotional holiday seasons.
Of course I know that Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of Christ. The family element comes in second in priority during this time of year.
It's just sad that this time of year that should be focused on birth and family, I spend so alone and wishing I'd never been born.
Oddly enough today, December 6, 2012, I received my once a year communication from those same grandparents.
For the first time ever, there was a small paragraph written in the card. They actually asked how we were doing and hoped we were doing well. They shared that my grandpa will be having a knee replacement this week.
I think the small paragraph was almost as painful as nothing at all. You would think that I'd be happier with something instead of nothing. The truth is that it's all painful.
Did it take six years for them to figure out that they haven't seen me at a family dinner? Has it really taken six years to notice that they haven't spoken to me?
When I spent a few hours with my brother this summer, I was excited that the visit was beyond my expectations. In the smallest part of my heart, I've tucked away this tiny bit of hope that the holidays would some how be different this year.
For reasons too numerous to list, I know additional contact with my family would be unhealthy. Extended contact with them would come with a very high price. Being near my parents intentionally could easily unravel five years of therapy and progress. But, I still held onto to some unrealistic hope that I'd go through the holidays with some semblance of family.
So, it's good and bad that nothing has come of the wonderful visit I had with him.
This part of the holidays doesn't seem to ever get any better. In fact, it only seems to get more and more painful. Probably the only thing that improves year after year is my ability to hide that pain from those who know me.
I just don't know if I can bare to go through another unstable, highly emotional holiday seasons.
Of course I know that Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of Christ. The family element comes in second in priority during this time of year.
It's just sad that this time of year that should be focused on birth and family, I spend so alone and wishing I'd never been born.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Cookie Exchange
At least I can see now that I'm in the home stretch of the worst month of the year. The problem is that it get infinitely worse before it gets better.
All the little naggy sad things that bothered me last month are now giant huge mountains from the minute my eyes open until they close everyday.
It seems unfair that one month of the year makes me miss everything I don't have. Today, it's a job.
I know I said it last year, but this time of year especially makes me miss having a job. It probably seems silly to most everyone. Who wouldn't love not having to do the daily grind everyday, right?
It didn't really matter where I worked, Christmas was always a special, unique time. My co-workers, they were my substitute family. Christmas, it was a time when everyone was able for a time to put aside their differences and show genuine care for each other.
I miss it all. Cookie exchanges. Secret Santa. Christmas parties. Dinners. Celebrating with each other. White elephants. Surprise gifts on my desk.
It was my hustle and bustle of the holidays. It was my warmth on a cold night. It was my light in a dark time.
Those things, they were all more to me than just things.
There are two things that my horrid background has created in me (ok, a lot more than 2 but I'm focusing just on 2). One is that I have a very strong desire to be included. Being in a group of people I know, it's my affirmation that I am wanted and I have a purpose. I know that this is a very natural desire even for people who have no abuse in their background. It's a very natural thing! The abusive background only intensifies this.
Not having this is even more difficult with my background. When everyone around me is scurrying off to this party or that during December, it's a constant battle for me to not personalize it. It's almost impossible to keep in perspective that an empty calendar doesn't mean I have no purpose or am unwanted.
Sadly for my husband, many of our weekend nights are spent driving around looking at Christmas light displays. All while I stare intently out my window biting my lip and doing my best to hold back tears.
The other thing is the gifts. Don't take this as a greedy thing, PLEASE! Receiving gifts is my primary love language, followed closely by words of affirmation. That's just honest.
I have a theory on why that is so.
When I was little, I knew my parents didn't love me. They rarely gave me gifts and when they did, the gifts were usually attached to a condition or horrific act of abuse. I don't think I ever considered it a gift at that point.
My grandma, dysfunctional and screwed up, told us all that she loved us. She always went above and beyond to get us at least one nice gift for our birthdays and Christmas. On our birthdays, she always gave us $25. With $25 we were rich!!! At Christmas, she always did something nice. When we were younger, it was a winter coat and a toy. The toy was taken away from us the minute we got home. As we got older, she would get us something we wanted and usually slip a $20 in the package.
See the pattern? Someone loved me, I got a gift. Someone didn't love, no gift. Don't get me wrong, I know people care about me without having received some small token from them. But you see how I so easily can tie together the idea that someone truly loves me or cares about me because they gave a gift.
I think that adds to the difficulty of this time of year.
After so many years with my husband, I think he has finally figured out that he has to wrap each of my gifts individually. I want to wake up on Christmas morning and have the floor under the tree full of gifts. Whether giving the gifts or receiving them, it is so symbolic of the amount of love that is there. My poor husband has learned that one box with a bunch of things in it just doesn't get as much excitement as each little thing being wrapped individually.
Can you see why my past jobs have helped provide so much of what I needed to get through December?
Cookie exchanges. Secret Santa. Christmas parties. Dinners. Celebrating with each other. White elephants. Surprise gifts on my desk.
So much of what I needed just to survive this time of year was found within my work family. It's not something I've been able to find any other place. I've found glimpses of it over the past few years, but nothing consistent. I see glimpses of it in people I am around, so I know it is possible. It's just not within my grasp right now.
Maybe someday....
All the little naggy sad things that bothered me last month are now giant huge mountains from the minute my eyes open until they close everyday.
It seems unfair that one month of the year makes me miss everything I don't have. Today, it's a job.
I know I said it last year, but this time of year especially makes me miss having a job. It probably seems silly to most everyone. Who wouldn't love not having to do the daily grind everyday, right?
It didn't really matter where I worked, Christmas was always a special, unique time. My co-workers, they were my substitute family. Christmas, it was a time when everyone was able for a time to put aside their differences and show genuine care for each other.
I miss it all. Cookie exchanges. Secret Santa. Christmas parties. Dinners. Celebrating with each other. White elephants. Surprise gifts on my desk.
It was my hustle and bustle of the holidays. It was my warmth on a cold night. It was my light in a dark time.
Those things, they were all more to me than just things.
There are two things that my horrid background has created in me (ok, a lot more than 2 but I'm focusing just on 2). One is that I have a very strong desire to be included. Being in a group of people I know, it's my affirmation that I am wanted and I have a purpose. I know that this is a very natural desire even for people who have no abuse in their background. It's a very natural thing! The abusive background only intensifies this.
Not having this is even more difficult with my background. When everyone around me is scurrying off to this party or that during December, it's a constant battle for me to not personalize it. It's almost impossible to keep in perspective that an empty calendar doesn't mean I have no purpose or am unwanted.
Sadly for my husband, many of our weekend nights are spent driving around looking at Christmas light displays. All while I stare intently out my window biting my lip and doing my best to hold back tears.
The other thing is the gifts. Don't take this as a greedy thing, PLEASE! Receiving gifts is my primary love language, followed closely by words of affirmation. That's just honest.
I have a theory on why that is so.
When I was little, I knew my parents didn't love me. They rarely gave me gifts and when they did, the gifts were usually attached to a condition or horrific act of abuse. I don't think I ever considered it a gift at that point.
My grandma, dysfunctional and screwed up, told us all that she loved us. She always went above and beyond to get us at least one nice gift for our birthdays and Christmas. On our birthdays, she always gave us $25. With $25 we were rich!!! At Christmas, she always did something nice. When we were younger, it was a winter coat and a toy. The toy was taken away from us the minute we got home. As we got older, she would get us something we wanted and usually slip a $20 in the package.
See the pattern? Someone loved me, I got a gift. Someone didn't love, no gift. Don't get me wrong, I know people care about me without having received some small token from them. But you see how I so easily can tie together the idea that someone truly loves me or cares about me because they gave a gift.
I think that adds to the difficulty of this time of year.
After so many years with my husband, I think he has finally figured out that he has to wrap each of my gifts individually. I want to wake up on Christmas morning and have the floor under the tree full of gifts. Whether giving the gifts or receiving them, it is so symbolic of the amount of love that is there. My poor husband has learned that one box with a bunch of things in it just doesn't get as much excitement as each little thing being wrapped individually.
Can you see why my past jobs have helped provide so much of what I needed to get through December?
Cookie exchanges. Secret Santa. Christmas parties. Dinners. Celebrating with each other. White elephants. Surprise gifts on my desk.
So much of what I needed just to survive this time of year was found within my work family. It's not something I've been able to find any other place. I've found glimpses of it over the past few years, but nothing consistent. I see glimpses of it in people I am around, so I know it is possible. It's just not within my grasp right now.
Maybe someday....
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