Jingle Hells, Jingle Hells

That wasn’t very Christmassy of me

I’ve spent every Christmas I can remember in 1 of 2 ways:

1. Not having one

2. At a friends house

Unsurprisingly, I enjoy the second one most. It’s testament to the calibre of my friends and their families, in that they are kind enough to welcome to me into their homes on Christmas Day.

But there’s a gap.

“Not having a Christmas?“

I’ve mentioned in previous articles that my mum is a Jehovah’s Witness. She became one when I was 9 years old. Life. Upside down. Etcetera.

Being forced into JW-land from ages 9-15 also meant conforming to all of their beliefs, not just door knocking and Kingdom Hall (their version of a church).

No Christmases, no birthdays. These were sometimes replaced by ‘present days’ at random points in the year. But that wasn’t the point, was it? The biggest problem for me wasn’t a lack of presents, it was feeling different and isolated. A ‘present day’ meant well, but ultimately made me feel lonelier.

Fast forward.

From my early 20s to my current 29 years of age, I’ve spent my Christmases at a friends house.

Now I want to explore 3 things:

1. How I feel about Christmas now, and its relationship with ADHD

2. How the feeling of loneliness in my youth still affects me

3. How December is a strange, difficult but insightful month

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

How I feel about Christmas now, and its relationship with ADHD

• I’ve never ‘got’ it. It’s pretty obvious why. Never properly celebrating it as a kid means the significance and fluff around it don’t appeal to me.

• And I probably never will. I want to. Believe me. I wish so badly that I got excited by the thought of Christmas, but I think I’ve missed the boat. Never mind missed, I was on a jet-ski made out of bibles going in the opposite direction.

• This does make me sad. It’s like I’m looking from the outside. I yearn for the emotional connection. The vibe. The memories. I can put on a face mask to pretend I enjoy it, but deep down I don’t.

• I’ve missed a fundamental youth building block. It hurts. December excavates a barren hole in my heart, every year. I know it’s a man-made concept, but the genuine family togetherness around it is real, and this has always been missing. And for what? A cult-like religion that I eventually left when I gained a semblance of independence anyway? So, it’s not the presents. It’s the reminder of a childhood that never was and the parental connections that, despite being strengthened in recent years, will always be frayed because of irrevocable past events.

• What about ADHD? Generally, I can’t stand situations I’m not enjoying. Not really a ground breaking revelation I know, but someone with ADHD finds it extremely hard to tolerate irritating scenarios. I have theory that the Christmas black blot in my calendar makes me especially irate during this month (not excusing asshole behaviour). Thus, my sensory overload has an even shorter fuse at Christmas related events I.e. markets, seeing my family in December.

• I believe my negative ADHD symptoms are turned up to a piercing 10 due to:

  • My pre-programmed attitude towards Christmas;

  • The lost childhood;

  • The sensory overload of sights & sounds.

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

How do the past events of old still permeate my world today?

• Did you ever sing hymns in primary school? There is nothing more horrifying having to walk out of assembly due to my enforced JW beliefs. Bullying ensued. Loneliness.

• Christmas time at school was a non event. I had to self-exclude myself. My mum made sure of it by speaking to my teachers who would very helpfully and loudly say I can leave whenever a Christmas film came on.

• The link between past & present is clear…

  Here are some ways to cope if you’re in the same boat:

  • Think of the people you’re with, not the ones who were never there

  • Now think of 3 things you’re grateful for about them

  • Try to see the joy in other peoples happiness, rather than self loathing your lack of festive cheer (this is essentially a dialog with myself)

This got me thinking…

How December is a strange, difficult, yet insightful month

It’s clear now December is an automatic trigger response to my youth. It’s less of a month, and more of a big hairy monster with no daylight at 3pm every day. Before some deep introspection, this was a blurred fog. One of the best things about thinking, and then writing, is the therapeutic nature of it.

*Suicide trigger warning*

Apologies for the tone shift, but previous Decembers have caused me to attempt suicide. I tried in 2016. It was a dear friend of mine who saved me by taking me in for a few days. A month of festive cheer for some, it’s the complete opposite for others. I’m aware I am not the only human to experience this juxtaposition of emotions vs time of year. There are those of us that:

• Are reminded of past trauma around Christmas-time

• Have lost a loved one, and are spending the next Christmas without them

• Don’t have immediate family to spend it with

• Who live in circumstances where Christmas is not celebrated and feel left out

I am 2 out of 4 of these. There are people who will have experienced all 4, or 1. The key here is it doesn’t matter the reason December isn’t so kind to you.

I’d like to extend a hand out and offer the same kindness my friend did to me in 2016. If you feel sad this month, please reach out and we can have a chat. I hope to understand your situation to a certain extent.

One of the hardest bits of December is the rumination over what-could’ve-been in your youth. The family you didn’t have at the time. The friendships. The wishes and dreams. I am grieving for this part of me. And like with any grief process, you & I deserve to feel the full range of emotions that comes with it. It’s OK.

A letter to my young self around on this topic reads something like this:

‘Your future is brighter than your past. The best is still yet to come. You feel lonely now, but you will make so many meaningful friendships and relationships in your life. Just get through these next 5 years. I promise it will get better.’

Just because a childhood experience has been lost, it doesn’t mean the present is. Acceptance of where I am, recognising the achievements of my deep introspection, and feeling grateful for the people I have in my life now are all reasons to find happiness in December. New memories. New meaning.

I don’t need to make up for the lost time. It was a lesson, albeit a hard one, that has made me excited to make better memories today.

Questions to You

• How do you feel about December?

• What lost memories do you grieve, and how do you feel about them now vs 10 years ago?

And finally, if you find December difficult as well, please reach out to me if you want to chat. 😊