The winter holiday season is difficult for many people who deal with mental illness, addiction, histories of abuse, or grief. For many years, I, too, loathed the holidays. The first Christmas after I returned from England, after having lost everything- my husband, my home, my friends and my country- I was mad with grief and paralyzed with bitterness. I was back at my mother's house, the very last place I wanted to be ever again. My mother simply could not understand why I would not accept her gifts or come out of my room. I remember screaming at her, "Christmas is for people who have families!"
But since Matt has been a part of my life, I feel like I have a family again. Not just his family, but our mutual friends; our chosen family is no less important to me. I have no cause for grief, I have no reason to feel excluded or worried or sad. And so far, this is probably the best holiday season I've had in many years. There were only two gifts under the tree yesterday, but I am living such a rich life. I have a home. I have love. I have everything I need, and more. I'm so grateful.
Yet, gifts are what are causing me anxiety today. On Saturday, we're going to Matt's grandparents' house for the big family Christmas. I love my in-laws, and I can't tell you how happy I am not to have to worry about vicious arguments and tears and people stomping out of the house. That was how Christmas always went when I was a kid. But there is one tradition Matt's family adheres to that makes me very uncomfortable: The Great Present Opening Ceremony. (No, they don't actually call it that.) This ceremony entails everyone sitting around in the living room opening gifts one at a time. Slowly. Agonizingly. Last year, it took three hours. Three hours.
This bothers me for several reasons. First of all, I don't feel that opening gifts should be the central focus of the day. The way it was done, it seemed to me that the presents were the most important thing.
Secondly, it isn't fun. It's done in a very formal fashion, each family member opening one gift at a time, showing it to everyone, thanking the gift-giver, and having pictures taken of them. I don't like being the center of attention for this reason. It makes me really uncomfortable.
Why does everyone have to have a picture taken with every gift they receive? If Matt's mom wants to do that, can't she just wait until everyone has opened all their gifts and take a picture of each person with all the opened presents?
Third, Matt and I haven't had the time or money to get gifts for anyone this year, not even our close friends. Not only that, but Matt's parents and grandparents have given us literally thousands of dollars this year to help us in our time of need. I feel that even if I could have given them something, it would be woefully inadequate. Yes, yes, I know, just my presence and my love and our happiness and safety are gifts enough for them, blah blah blah... but when so much emphasis is put on the opening of actual, material gifts, and gifts from Matt and I become conspicuously absent, well, I think it's going to make me feel like shit.
I'm trying not to dread this, because, as I said, I really do love Matt's family. His grandparents are getting on in years, and, not to be morbid, but I know how important it is to spend these last few Christmases with them. I am going to try to bring some of "me" to the party, with Apples to Apples, a bottle of mead and a drinking horn to pass around. I'm hoping maybe grandpop will let me light a fire in the hearth, and we can sing songs and play games instead of spending hours with the presents. But I don't know how receptive they will be to that.
Anyway, that's it for now. I just needed to get all of that off my chest before we head up there on Saturday.
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