“aw did you have a lovely christmas?” “are you doing anything nice for christmas?” “looking forward to christmas?”
they’re not really questions though are they? they’re demands. subtle, insidious little demands. most people have a moderate to lovely christmas, i’m sure. most people get together with their extended families and get mildly annoyed about political differences or flatulence or whatever, watch telly, play board games, bicker, eat too much. they moan about it all but publicly announce they’re loving it.
but there are an awful lot of people who don’t have a lovely christmas. and we’re not allowed to bloody tell you that because it opens a can of worms you don’t want to know about. if you ask me what my plans are for christmas, i’ll say “oh, seeing family, you know” but that’s not an honest answer.
here’s what i’m planning this christmas.
on christmas eve the newly three-year old Eric and i will head over to Arundel Lido for a swim. it’s heated and you float about looking at a castle. i like to think we’ll always go on christmas eve, so that Eric has a nice middle class tradition that involves exercise and heritage. i find being in water outdoors healing, in an almost spiritual way. it makes me feel better. not just better in terms of mood, but better in terms of who i am as a human. i don’t know why, i have just always needed to be in water outdoors.
after our swim, we will go to the little co-op opposite the lido. they will hopefully have loads of reduce-to-clear christmas food again. cheap fancy food makes me feel better too. it feels like a present somehow. i don’t question it, i just know that i feel grateful for it, and that gratitude is really important for me at christmas.
after that, we head over to gosport (yeah i know, lots of driving, but eric will be ready for a nap), where we collect two hampers from the junk food project. they intercept food waste from supermarkets, and on christmas eve, you don’t know whether you’re going to get a turkey, a whole salmon, a catering pack of mince pies, or a lump of coal. but again, it’s important i feel grateful, because that way i feel something a bit like love coming my way.
drop off the second hamper to its recipient, and then home for some telly and toys with my boy. i don’t honestly know how good or bad my mood will be, but i’ll either be excited about the morning, or telling myself it’s nearly over. you can’t predict really.
christmas morning, eric will have a stocking to wake up to and a massive pile of presents. we’ll have a play, eat something involving cheese, and then head over to the community christmas dinner we’re booked on. i’m nervous as all hell about that, because the last time i booked us in to one, come the day i was too depressed to go. eric was only a baby then, so he didn’t know any better, but this year i have to go, come what may, and i’m dreading the possibility that i cry for four solid hours and ruin everybody’s christmas. we’re going so that eric has someone happy around, just in case i’m not. it will hopefully be a real mix of ages and types of people, so that eric gets to charm old ladies and such, because he loves a bit of that.
home for tea, hopefully exhausted and feeling peaceful and lovely. but whatever i feel, eric should be happy. early night, i really really hope, and then boxing day my mum is coming to visit, so eric will have more presents to open, because i’m going to save the presents from mum till she gets here. i think we’re going to have lunch together. not sure.
so yeah, christmas. i’m scared of it because as often as not i get really, REALLY depressed at christmas. i’ve put as much in place as possible to make sure it goes smoothly whether i’m depressed or not, but it still worries me. eric has a tree, decorations, christmas food, more presents than you can possibly comprehend, and a mother who loves him, hopefully that’s enough. we’ll have done the birthday treat (monkey world) and the christmas treat (meeting father christmas at hayling funland), he’ll have been to two christmas parties and a birthday party, and he’ll have been for a proper christmas walk. but where my head will be is anyone’s guess.
it’s not that i hate christmas, that i wish it didn’t happen. i love christmas, but it has hurt me so many times. i don’t mean i wanted a pony when i was seven and only got a donkey. i mean deaths and cruelty and heartbreak. the christmas songs that have a pavlovian effect on my central nervous system. the loneliness and the waiting for life to go back to normal so i could see people again. craving tescos for human contact.
but you can’t tell people that when they ask what you did for christmas. they want to hear it was lovely even if it wasnt.