Christmas Healing Comes In Its Own Time
Dec. 26th, 2014 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomramblingtidbits(trigger warning for mentions of abuse, death, depression, and suicide)
While part of the reason I stopped posting -both here and on tumblr- was because I did get a job, the other part of it is that I don't like the holiday season. I use too, but then my family decided to ruin it with me by being assholes.
Ten years ago, my parental grandfather died and my father, being the youngest in his family, got into a vicious fight with his older siblings on Thanksgiving over trying to get his inheritance. And when I mean vicious, I mean they got into a screaming match in our house that had me and my siblings huddling in our room while our Aunt Pam (who would die in April of the next year) tried to console us.
Then it was Christmas and there was another screaming match, this time with my mother's family. My mom was the youngest daughter and grew up in a family where her brothers were given everything, so she ended up having to be sort of subordinate to even her younger brother. When said brother was asked if he could take my wheelchair-bound grandfather (his father) home, he flipped out. He was screaming and swearing so loud that our neighbors ended up calling the cops. And once again I was huddling in another room, crying.
New Years was a bit better, but there was still family drama because one of my older cousins, who was staying with us at the time, revealed she was pregnant to her parents and my parents ended up having act as mediators between the two, who were not happy about the situation to say the least.
Because of all that happen, our family structure changed. My parents had to finally step up and set boundaries, which resulted in us being estranged from both sides, but not before some more screaming matches. Where before our holidays were gatherings with our huge families, the next ones would be with just us, on top of Aunt Pam dying that year so our family just seemed to keep getting smaller.
This all acted as a trigger for my depression. This was the year where I first tried to commit suicide and admitted as such to my family. And as I said before, nothing was done.
Things are a bit better; while we never reconciled with Dad's side, we did eventually make amends with Mom's (kind of...my asshole uncle still has yet to apologize for that Christmas). But I never was able to fully get into the holiday spirit the same way the rest of my family has. They are the ones who get the tree and lights up before Thanksgiving while I'm still trying to shake the feelings the time brings up.
At least this year was the first time in a loonngg time that I didn't have to worry about the additional stress of school finals, and it was fun participating in the holiday potluck and Secret Santa at my work. But when I go home and am called things like 'Grinch', 'Scrooge', and 'Anti-Christmas' because heaven-forbid that I don't want to listen to Christmas music 24/7.
I called my parents out on this when they called me 'Anti-Christmas' again because I didn't want to go see that Kirk Cameron Saving Christmas movie. And they actually asked me when they ever said such things, causing me to angrily point out that they just freaking said that. And when I tried to explain that I was still recovering from that Christmas and that was why it took me so much longer to warm up to the holidays, they told me that it was ten years so I should be over it.
The same way my depression had always been framed as moods I needed to also get over.
I'm getting tired of holding my tongue around them. I want to yell at them, say that for most of those years I was in stasis where I didn't really grow or develop because I was constantly fighting with myself to just survive. I want to yell that the reason it takes so long for me to 'get over it' is because they're the ones who refused to get their teenage daughter treatment when she admitted to wanting to kill herself three times and it was only in this past where when my freakin university took more initiative then them to find me a regular therapist who has been helping me heal.
I'm doing better; I enjoyed actually having money to spend on presents for my family and Secret Santas, of spending time with my young cousins and seeing their faces light up. But it wasn't enough, because it takes me till December to get prepared for everything while my everyone else is gunho the minute Halloween is over. And I hate it because it feels like their little comments are chipping away at the wounds that I'm trying to heal and making them bleed all over again.
While part of the reason I stopped posting -both here and on tumblr- was because I did get a job, the other part of it is that I don't like the holiday season. I use too, but then my family decided to ruin it with me by being assholes.
Ten years ago, my parental grandfather died and my father, being the youngest in his family, got into a vicious fight with his older siblings on Thanksgiving over trying to get his inheritance. And when I mean vicious, I mean they got into a screaming match in our house that had me and my siblings huddling in our room while our Aunt Pam (who would die in April of the next year) tried to console us.
Then it was Christmas and there was another screaming match, this time with my mother's family. My mom was the youngest daughter and grew up in a family where her brothers were given everything, so she ended up having to be sort of subordinate to even her younger brother. When said brother was asked if he could take my wheelchair-bound grandfather (his father) home, he flipped out. He was screaming and swearing so loud that our neighbors ended up calling the cops. And once again I was huddling in another room, crying.
New Years was a bit better, but there was still family drama because one of my older cousins, who was staying with us at the time, revealed she was pregnant to her parents and my parents ended up having act as mediators between the two, who were not happy about the situation to say the least.
Because of all that happen, our family structure changed. My parents had to finally step up and set boundaries, which resulted in us being estranged from both sides, but not before some more screaming matches. Where before our holidays were gatherings with our huge families, the next ones would be with just us, on top of Aunt Pam dying that year so our family just seemed to keep getting smaller.
This all acted as a trigger for my depression. This was the year where I first tried to commit suicide and admitted as such to my family. And as I said before, nothing was done.
Things are a bit better; while we never reconciled with Dad's side, we did eventually make amends with Mom's (kind of...my asshole uncle still has yet to apologize for that Christmas). But I never was able to fully get into the holiday spirit the same way the rest of my family has. They are the ones who get the tree and lights up before Thanksgiving while I'm still trying to shake the feelings the time brings up.
At least this year was the first time in a loonngg time that I didn't have to worry about the additional stress of school finals, and it was fun participating in the holiday potluck and Secret Santa at my work. But when I go home and am called things like 'Grinch', 'Scrooge', and 'Anti-Christmas' because heaven-forbid that I don't want to listen to Christmas music 24/7.
I called my parents out on this when they called me 'Anti-Christmas' again because I didn't want to go see that Kirk Cameron Saving Christmas movie. And they actually asked me when they ever said such things, causing me to angrily point out that they just freaking said that. And when I tried to explain that I was still recovering from that Christmas and that was why it took me so much longer to warm up to the holidays, they told me that it was ten years so I should be over it.
The same way my depression had always been framed as moods I needed to also get over.
I'm getting tired of holding my tongue around them. I want to yell at them, say that for most of those years I was in stasis where I didn't really grow or develop because I was constantly fighting with myself to just survive. I want to yell that the reason it takes so long for me to 'get over it' is because they're the ones who refused to get their teenage daughter treatment when she admitted to wanting to kill herself three times and it was only in this past where when my freakin university took more initiative then them to find me a regular therapist who has been helping me heal.
I'm doing better; I enjoyed actually having money to spend on presents for my family and Secret Santas, of spending time with my young cousins and seeing their faces light up. But it wasn't enough, because it takes me till December to get prepared for everything while my everyone else is gunho the minute Halloween is over. And I hate it because it feels like their little comments are chipping away at the wounds that I'm trying to heal and making them bleed all over again.
