Thanksgiving was fun. We spent a week at The Farm in Jasper, Alabama with Zeb’s family. I love them and I have the best in-laws in the world. I don’t even have to try to like them, because I just do. They are awesome. And I say that because I don’t want anyone, anywhere to confuse what I’m about to say– but sometimes the holidays just suck.
Yeah, I said it.
The holidays suck. Maybe not for everyone, but I know I’m not alone in this.
I mean, I guess EVERYTHING about the holidays doesn’t suck, but for me, anyway, they are almost always emotional.
You know that hollow, day after Christmas kind of feeling?? That. I hate that.
I guess it boils down to expectations. No matter what, we always have them. Other people have different ones, and then we are all in the same place trying to celebrate and be happy, but there are kids everywhere and tons of people to be fed. And I crave the quiet corner in my bedroom but I’d be sad if I was there because I want to see everybody and do everything but that’s hard too.
My parents divorced when I was sixteen. It affected every member of my family differently but deeply. Sometimes it still surprises me that my parents aren’t together anymore. Like it just happened yesterday.
Then, in 2006, someone broke into my childhood home and burned it to the ground. (BTW, great job on never doing anything about that, ever, Jasper Police Department.) Thankfully my mother wasn’t in the house when it happened but she lost everything. And for me, the last bit of “home” was gone. Even after my parent’s divorce, home was still home. But then it was just gone and part of my childhood went with it. I miss that house, and the life I thought I was supposed to have pre–divorce. I struggle to this day with my expectations being so very different from my reality.
The day before Thanksgiving, I cooked dinner at The Farm for my wonderful family. The in-law family that has accepted me as their own for the last sixteen years. My dad came by for a quick visit before dinner and I was so happy to be there with everyone. We ate dinner, my nieces washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen, and I went upstairs to the room Zeb and I share at The Farm, and cried for two hours.
It wasn’t about anybody or anything, it’s just that sometimes, when you are broken– the things that are supposed to feel good, don’t. I’m not sure if I should attribute this to being from a “broken home,” having chronic depression, being human, or all of the above.
I texted with my friend Heather, (because she’s the kind of friend you can text the day before Thanksgiving, when you are crying in the bed), and just talking with her made me feel so normal that I cried harder. Mostly because I knew I needed to write about this moment, because I don’t want you to think you are alone if having to force yourselves to keep moving forward through the holidays when you don’t always feel like it.
I took for granted when I was growing up in my parent’s huge house that one day it would be full of their grandchildren. It never crossed my mind that not only would I not be spending the holidays with my parents, but they wouldn’t be spending it with each other. And every year, I find myself holding my breath around the holidays. Not figuratively. My chest aches and I realize I’m not breathing and it hurts. It hurts to breathe, but it hurts not to. So I take a deep breath and pack up my family and we come to the Farm, where my husband and kids feel like they’ve always belonged but where I still feel slightly conspicuous. I love it there but it’s not my home– it’s not where I was raised. It’s not mine.
Sometimes it just hits me so hard that I need to be saved from myself. From my expectations of other people, from my expectations of me.
The weight of these expectations is what keeps me from breathing.
But I keep it breezy on Facebook and say things like, “Have a great turkey day! May all your food dreams come true! Happy Holidays! Fa la la la laaaa!!!”
Because it’s easier than saying, “Hey, I realize today may be really hard for you because it’s not what you thought it was going to be 5 years ago, or 3 months ago or 2 minutes ago. But I hope it’s bearable. I hope it’s good. I hope you make it through this day with a smile. I hope you are kind to yourself today. I hope you breathe and notice something beautiful. Maybe it’s not what you thought it was going to be. But maybe you’ve been adopted into something that is lovely and beautiful and full of light.”
But maybe that’s what I should say instead. Because maybe then you’d feel less alone, and so would I.
Because if you’ve lost someone, if you are struggling with depression, if you feel out of place or out of step or out of sync… I simply hope your holidays are bearable. I hope you breathe through them. I hope you embrace what is beautiful and let go of everything that isn’t and I pray for peace for all us in the midst of our own expectations.
Back in college, I took Advanced Rhetoric. It was a painful class reading classic literature, but every now and then something from that class stands out and speaks to me. One of the books we had to read was Saint Augustine’s Confessions. While I found little to relate to Saint Augustine for most of the book, one passage always has stayed with me ever since…especially during times and in places (such as Facebook) where the expectation is to have it all together and be happy….
“We were alike deceivers and deceived in all our different aims and ambitions, both publicly when we expounded our so-called liberal ideas, and in private through our service to what we called religion. In public we were cocksure, in private superstitious, and everywhere void and empty.”
I don’t know…just the knowing that someone from 354 AD felt that same sense that he had to live up to great expectations- even without Facebook- makes me feel a little better.
PTL.
i loathe the holidays. all of them.
growing up, it was the one day my father was sober. and the family worked so hard to keep him “happy”
HATE HATE HATE
erika recently posted..My Homily
Thank you. I don’t wish those feelings for anyone else, but nice to know it’s not just me.
i love your honesty. and i know there is more than one person that can relate to this and will greatly appreciate your heartfelt sharing. the holidays are overwhelming. i have more of a problem with trying to make sure everyone is having the best possible time, and when you have 8 people it’s not really easy. and if i’m honest with myself it probably would be no better or worse if i didn’t spend so much energy trying to make sure everyone else was happy, but it’s innate. maybe it is like Erica said. my dad, while not sober, was usually on good behavior for the most part. so i tried to make sure it stayed that way for my mom and sis….
i’m so glad you have the farm people and that amazing man of yours and those sweet girls. you deserve to feel like home.
Angela recently posted..Let’s Talk About… Me!
Holidays are especially tough, I think, because we all hope for perfections never achieved. No family is perfect.. But we sure wish they were most of the time. Life deals some VERY unfair blows. I think , as I get older (and older), that I realize the only people I want to be around are people that I like. You are very blessed with those in-laws.
I used to be one those over-the-top holiday nut cases. I couldn’t understand how anyone could NOT love Christmas and Thanksgiving and NYE and Flag Day, etc. And then my mom was diagnosed with cancer and died the week before Thanksgiving.
My entire world came crashing down and now I would secretly love to spend the holidays hiding under the covers and ignoring the world because everyone is so happy and full of love and sparkly happiness, and I am full of bitterness and anger and tears. The holidays were magical until my family broke apart.
I, too, put on a happy face and go through the motions, but I would much prefer to see FB statuses like the one you wrote above because that’s real and honest and makes me feel like less of an outcast.
Erin recently posted..Wordless Wednesday
Right there with you. I lost my father 6 years ago on November 27, which also happens to be my mother’s birthday (I wrote about it in my blog recently, if anyone cares to look). My momwas 49 that day. He had turned 50 earlier that summer. My daughter was 6 months old.
I turned 30 six short weeks later and every year since, I’ve had to ask my husband how old I am. I don’t keep track.
Every holiday since then has been an exercise in just making it through. Because of my kid, I have a reason to make believe the happy. It’s her magical time. One day I’ll tell her why mommy never sleeps but always wants to when Santa clause is coming to town.
I just…I can’t even. I cannot put into words the relief that I am not alone. November hits and I feel like I’m intermittently sucking in air. Grasping for breath for the next 2 months. It’s hard. Holidays are hard. It’s December 4th and we don’t have a single decoration up. I dread it. I don’t find joy in it anymore. And then there’s the planning of the here and there and how do we possibly see everyone we are “supposed” to see in 3 different states all on the same day. And the guilt. Oh the guilt is especially hard for me.
Just glad I’m not alone. And that there is prozac. Amen. 😉
This was so beautifully written and so true. I always expected my mom to be in her house and now she is in independent living. Things change. We change. And we have to always remember to breathe.
Thank you for your honesty. We ALL really need to hear it! I would also love to see a real Facebook messages like the one you talked about. We need reminders to be kind to ourself.
Even though it is hard for you, maybe there is comfort in knowing you are creating great memories for your children. They will always have that to carry forward to your grandchildren. And that is a great thing.
Jamie@ southmainmuse recently posted..Renovation diaries. Chapter 1,308.
So beautiful, makes me want to cry…ok I’m crying.
Damn expectations!
Sometimes between doubt and regret…there is a second or two of releif.
I love that moment – it’s usually silly and fleeting…
– daughter laughs, cat reaches out and pets my head, flower blooms on the balcony, sun blinds me as i walk out the door…silly things.
maybe happiness is not continuous, but an occasional flash
Doesn’t fix things, but still…
and tears are good sometimes too, because they are also relief – they let us mourn.
sending you a big hug from across the oceans!
I so relate to this. My mom died when I was 19 and her side of the family feuded with, and then disowned, my father. We’ve since mended most of the pieces of my broken family, but my brother still won’t talk to my father and my mother’s side is still a mess. I have a family and kids of my own, but I spend my holidays with my in-laws, who are wonderful, but not my own. It’s sad, but its more than some have, so I console myself with that. Thanks again for your honesty. It helps more than you know.
Wow – this was very moving. We all have stories don’t we….just have to keep swimming…keep breathing…and keep looking for the magic. Love you girl. xo
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No one asked me, but I vote that you post whatever you’re feeling on Facebook. We love you because you’re honest and give it to us in black and white with a side of southern charm. And you’re right: there is something sad about the holidays, especially the older we get and the more changes we endure. I’m wiping your tears and offering a hug, Mama. Hang in there xo
WhenCrazyMeetsExhaustion recently posted..Countdown to Christmas: 25 Fun Ways to Ring in the Season
Thanks for writing about this. I’m resigned to the holidays being sucky, but even though I’m not surprised when much of traditions seem hollow, I still yearn for some of the magic to seep back into my heart. It does, sometimes, momentarily, and that has to be enough. I guess having experienced the magic in childhood makes me miss it that much more.
I admire you for being able to write so clearly about depression. I want to write about it on my blog, other than just to say I have depression, but haven’t reached a place where I can be truly open about it. Please keep writing about it, even on Facebook.
Melanie recently posted..Trying to understand
Thanks for making the jolly-holidays a little less dreadful!!
Dee DeTarsio recently posted..Got Jealousy?
Fall has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. I loved everything about it! My birthday is in October, my dads and a brother are in November. Halloween is the best day ever invented!! Just for the cute little ghost, goblins and witches! The cuties kind. Until last fall. About a week after thanksgiving I had to take my dad to the ER from really bad swelling in his tummy. He had fought being sick for 2 years one illness after another. Until we found out he had intestinal cancer and a spot on his liver. He went through chemo for 6 months. Drive himself to every treatment because nobody could go back with him due to other patients but he insisted on doing it himself. I’d talk to him when he got home from treatments and he’d usually be cooking himself something to eat. Normally burgers and smoked sausage on the grill. No one touched his grill. He ate probably more and better than he ever had. Then it was thanksgiving and and last chemo was done and he was cancer free! Thanksgiving day I was working at Kmart for the holidays and had to be at work at 5AM!! And back later that afternoon. Thanksgiving was at a brothers house about a hour away so soon as I got off I was heading up there. Lucky my daughter was old enough to drive herself and my son up there early. Even though my parents have been divorced they get along like pros!! They’ve know each other since before they can remember not!! Sadly I by the time I got off work my children had came home and my dad had tired out and went home a hour in another direction. So I pick my son up and head to my brothers house even though it was late. But we had a awesome thanksgiving!! Fast forward to about a week after and I’m sitting in the ER with my dad and my son. We’re cutting up, laughing, joking trying to lighten the mood. I’ve always dealt with stress this way. My daughter, a brother and a cousin come to the ER. After the Dr comes back he informs us 2 things: 1 my dad has sorocosis (sp?) of the liver. 2 his cancer is most likely not gone. My world hit a brick wall. I sent my kids home. My brother and cousin left. My world had burst into flames- at least it felt that way. On my way home later that night I ran out of gas. Everyone I knew in the area was not in the area. I don’t really even remember what time it was. I sat in the turning I had managed to coast to for a long time and cried. Until a police came up and told me I had to get my car moved. So we spent the next few months in a hospital room. Except maybe 2 weeks in a nursing home then back to the hospital. My dad was in pain 24/7. He’d got to every time I’d walk in his room he’d say there’s my beautiful daughter! I’d look around and say where?!? That’s how I was trying to deal with the thought of my dad leaving this world- leaving me! I couldn’t deal. My dad was far from the prefect dad but his love for me was! I was daddy girl so much that when I was little I wanted to be a boy lol! I was his shadow for the first several years of my life until I found friends and funner things to do. Fast forward to march. My dad is taken at 1 am to hospital for renal failure. Still talking and as upbeat as possible. 2 weeks in icu and then to oncology dept. dr calls and tells me we’ve done everything we can for your dad. He’s dying. I go to the hospital and his face is empty. He left without saying goodbye. He was still breathing. Barely. At least we have a couple more days. Right? Please be right. After loving hugging and kissing on my dad and talking to the hospital Chaplin sitting by my dad about his life and what he’s meant to me my whole life and crying every piece of liquid I had in my body out I asked could I stay the night? Your dad won’t be here tomorrow. Even when you know someone’s gonna die you never think it’s gonna be today. Tomorrow. It’ll be tomorrow. So I leave to go pick up my kids so they can come say goodbye to a man they loved that adored them. I couldn’t let my daughter drive that far being that distressed at 17. When I make it home I get a call from hospice. My dad had just left this world. March 12, 2013. 2 days after my sweet nephews birthday. Which is also a brothers and a sister in laws birthday. About 4 weeks or so earlier my dad had me set down to inform me he was ready to go meet Jesus and I was i ok with that. I was happy to know he had found Jesus but I told him I’d never be ready to let him go. My dad knew I adored him. We talked daily. He’d surprise visit when he felt good. My dad was no role model. At times he wasn’t the dad he should have been but for the last 20 plus years my dad was there for me to help me get through anything. He was always believed in me and always adored my children. Since he’s passed we’ve dealt with so many big events that he should be here for. My daughter graduated high and started college. My son has learned to drive a car. And started his 2nd year of hs football. I was only 38 when my dad passed. I should have had him till I was 60. My dad was only 63 he should have lived till he was 90. Life is not fair! Fall sucks! And for the first time in my life I’m not looking forward to the “season”. I’m not jolly or even happy. I’ve gone through my birthday without my call/visit his birthday without making his Mississippi mud and his call 1st thing thanksgiving to say happy turkey day!! I’m not depressed. No pill is going to cure the fact my dad is gone forever. And he took his hugs with him. I’m not “sad” or “depressed” or a Scrooge I just want my life back! So I know how you feel I’d like to crawl in a hole and stay till January 5 and it’s all over.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I truly hope you find something beautiful this Christmas.
Thanksgiving weekend 3 years ago my parents split up and I was informed I wasn’t going to be able to have kids. Thanksgiving marks the beginning of the shitstorm that is The Holidays for me. Every year I struggle to put a smile on my face for my family and in-laws when really all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sob. Thank you for letting me know I’m not the only one who isn’t always feeling the holiday spirit.
Oh, Lo. I hear you. I can’t imagine. I hope you can breathe through it all this year and find what makes you happy and embrace it.
This is an incredibly great post. I think to some level every adult feels this way when changes sweep through life and things don’t stay the same. God moved us across the country and we quickly realized that trying to travel back for any holiday was too much. And then my parents moved out of my childhood home and two states over. My husband, boys and I have spent the last few years making our own fun but there is definitely a hollowness to it. Especially for my husband whose parents rarely visit. Even the fact that my sister is still single is a bit hollow because there’s no cousins or fun for my boys like we had growing up. So, I hear you sister and thanks for writing this.
Nice. More than I can say right now…
Jane Gassner (@MidLifeBloggers) recently posted..Alzheimer’s: The Fear We Don’t Talk About
Beautifully written and so very true. My parents divorced 17 years ago, and my brother still asks if we can all spend the holidays together. Between the divorce, death, and other issues, the holidays are not what anyone expected them to be. I get through them by trying to find the things (no matter how few or small) that are present and that I am so grateful for–and then just focus on them. And then I might make a snarky remark or two as well. 😉
Thank you for sharing.
Kelly Fox recently posted..Anosmia Says What?
Wow. Thank you so much for this. The holidays are always very hard on me, and I always feel a bit…ashamed about it.
I did not know that about your home! I went through that the day after Christmas in 2001, with my family home in Jasper. It was awful. Sending you hugs and love.
I just want to point out that people don’t really comment that much anymore overall, on blogs. Not as much anyway. And when they do, it’s usually not all that thoughtful, it’s hurried, like all else.
But look at this place? The way people FELT you. I love it. I love that there are so many ME TOOs here.
xoxo
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I’m late to this one, but just wanted to say thank you and I hear you. It’s weird how grief and loss can turns things all upside down. Sometimes I marvel at how close my 11yo daughter and I are, and how she shares so much with me…which is amazing and awesome. But at the same time, a small part of me collapses under that joy because I’m so sad I didn’t have that relationship with my own mom. The holidays seem to bring out this same kind of joy/heartache mess for me. Hang in there.
Liz @ PeaceLoveGuac recently posted..Turkey with a side of fiasco
Life is hard and I totally hear you– I’m so thankful for the family my husband and I have created and for the relationship they get to have with him. But it’s so hard to let go of the broken things. So effing hard.
from one broken girl to another…thanks. While I guess I wish I were alone (I mean, who wants someone else to feel this way?), I guess I can hold on to the concept that you’re surviving this, so maybe I can too.
Xoxo. Hold my virtual hand friend.
You really summed up the core of your depression with the statement…” I struggle to this day with my expectations being so very different from my reality.”
I can relate to this so well. My life was supposed to be different. I didn’t want it to be like this… those are the thoughts I’ve had many times. I just wanted a happy home- a husband- a family- I wanted to feel loved. I think we all want to feel loved and safe. And it’s really depressing when your life doesn’t turn out how you hoped and planned. Especially when it turned out really difficult or sad (divorce, death, abuse). The holidays tend to shine a spotlight on what is missing in our homes.
Perhaps we have to mindfully train ourselves to focus on what we do have and look at how far we’ve come. I always say success should be measured by where you start not where you end up.
I hope you all have a healthy (if not happy) holiday season. Namaste.
Thank you for writing this. I feel like I can only be honest with a couple close friends and everyone else is running around with a smile plastered on their face, busy with plans and family and friends. And I’m the only one who can’t wait for November and December to be over with. So much heartache…parents divorced and died too young so I have no family….a devastating divorce after 18 years together and 4 children. Then 3 months after my divorce, right before Thanksgiving, I was raped by a stranger. Every year feels like a nightmare trying to get through everything. Maybe as more time goes by, the agony will subside. I used to love the holidays. Now I can’t wait for them to be over with so the pain inside me will subside. Like Jen said so well, “I just wanted a happy home….I just wanted to feel loved. The holidays tend to shine a spotlight on what is missing in our homes.”
Thank you for writing this. I frequently feel like I don’t have an anchor because my parents divorced and sold our home. I was 24 and expected it to be easier. It never gets easier. I really believe holidays only feel right when you follow your childhood traditions. Not other people’s.
I SO appreciate your column on the holidays. It’s hard to believe that losing my Dad when I was 15 – and now I’m 59 – is still affecting my life. I always imagine that everyone I know – except me and my immediate family – have the best holidays. Ones that are filled with love, laughter, and all of the little surprises that make the holidays special. My Christmases changed that one year – losing my Dad and my live-in Grandmother within 6 months of each other.
Thanks for allowing me to know that I’m not alone out here, and that the holiday is what you make it – no matter where you are or who you’re with.
Very much appreciated. Thank you.
A friend sent me your post because it reminded her of me. Im deathly jealous of everyone else’s Christmas and can’t manage to create a single bit of magic for myself or my family. I don’t suffer from chronic depression, my home was not broken, or set in flames, so what’s my excuse, you tell me?