Ok, so this is a little late I meant to post yesterday and today turned into tomorrow.
Getting up this morning, I checked up on all of my favorite writers. It looks as though everybody got through yesterday OK. Christmas seems to be a day that some people look forward to, others dread its coming. Some believe that this time of year is the “season of the enforced Happy” as Chelsea G. Summers puts it. There are others who have had misfortune/tragedy happen in December and the holiday brings back sad memories. Others find themselves alone and longing for the comfort and succor of family; while some wish they didn’t have to bother with people and yearn for solitude. Happily, for the majority of people, things go well.
My Christmas day was pretty quiet. I spent a couple of hours with my family and then returned to my poor excuse for a hermitage. Usually I get my place all spiffed up for the holidays, but I just didn’t feel like it this year. It was kind of like, meh, who cares.
I most certainly fall into the holiday category of the disaffected. For a while, I was connected to a family where my father-in law would go off his nut just before Christmas and beat the living shit out of his wife. The family, having “old world values” would do nothing about it. Instead, they would walk on eggshells hoping that this year would be different, only to have their hopes dashed by predictable behavior. Years later I found out that these outbursts had a genetic link. The rage and physical violence were caused by a recessive gene found in certain eastern European males. Any one of the MAOI’s could have fixed the problem. Sadly, all of this information came too late to help. Just after I left that relationship and began another, I discovered that the two people that my partner cherished as a child had both died on separate Christmas Eves. My partner also had some mega anger issues that she had been hauling around since childhood. I quickly learned what to expect. Somewhere just around Christmas Eve, she would loose it and punch a hole in one of our walls. It quickly came to pass that when Christmas music made its annual appearance on the radio, I would once again be filled with angst concerning the dreaded approach of the holidays and its inevitable outcomes.
There were some positives that came out of the shattered plaster.. One, she is now confronting the anger issues… and two; I became an expert at wet plaster repair!
All things considered, when I made my decision to become a recluse, my holidays have come and gone with much less drama. I guess that’s a good thing.
My goodness, this post is positively maudlin! SBT. I promise something a bit more upbeat next time… ummmmm let’s see….. I know!
... My Pygmy.