You might want to look back at yesterday’s post. All fairy lights and fuzzy smugness. It has not been like that today, not at all. The morning started out OK, I loved my presents, but after we got up everything started to slide downhill as did my mood.
I could sit here and perform an autopsy on the day. I know the things that aggravated me. Most of them were my fault, or a lack of communication with my husband. I’ve spent a lot of the day feeling isolated and I’m writing this sat on my own in the kitchen. I don’t feel like anyone really wants me to join in games with them, and that I’m imposing myself on people who would be happier without me being misery guts in the corner. Basically I am hosting a pity party, and going by recent form, the invites would be colour themed to fit in with the decorations.
I’ve placed so much value on making things lovely. On trying to be perfect. Bloody gingerbread houses, homemade food, themed wrapping paper for the each of the kids, even sodding place settings. None of it made any difference, and to be honest, I don’t think anyone noticed. I didn’t expect a gasp of appreciation, but when things were not how I pictured them I was really upset. Good grief my emotions are all over the place. I can see why so many people struggle so hard to give up drinking. I swing between I SO GOT THIS to feeling absolutely desolate. I have today shouted at the kids, made my husband angry with me, and basically failed on every single mummy scale aside from the ‘I didn’t drink today’ one.
To everyone who says ‘Christmas is just another day’ hats off to you. It isn’t its expectations, hopes, anticipation, family traditions and the pressure of relationships all rolled into one.
It’s funny really, if you look on FaceBook, I bet our Christmas looks perfect. No one even took a photo of me until I asked them to, no one even likes ME taking pictures even though it’s something that’s important to me. See my logic then runs, they know it’s important to me, so if they don’t, I must not be important. It’s the ego of the alcoholic to think that everyone is running their day around me. It’s bloody ridiculous, but the hurt felt real.
I know I need to try and have less expectations of everyone. Or just drop the damn expectations that give me validation. I know that they don’t know how much certain things mean to me, and actually I am not the centre of the goddam universe. I just don’t know yet how to make that happen.
Anyway, let’s finish off with some positives. Doctor Who was awesome. I ran around in Elf fancy dress in my local area, did about three kilometres. My husband was very thoughtful in his gift buying, and so were my friends. The things they picked for me meant a lot.
Also the Elf on the bloody shelf has gone back to the North Pole. Hurray! As they say, one day at a time, and if you feel really bad, I can assure you smashing a gingerbread house cathartically helps.