That time of year has approached once more... Christmas. Christmas divides opinion: you either love it (so much so that the minute the iconic Coca Cola Adverts chants its melodic catchphrase' Holidays are Coming, Holidays are Coming,' your stomach whirrs with excitement) or you hate it (so much so that the mere mention of the profane word makes you break out in sweats and want to pull the duvet over your head until March.) I am in the first category: I love it.
When I say I love Christmas I think back to the physical, spiritual and emotional response the word Christmas once evoked in me. Although my childhood wasn't always easy- with more than 6 siblings living at home in a small 3 bedroomed house, money was tight and as eldest, I never got very much (except a never-ending to-do list to help around the house) -regardless, my mother still kept the spirit of Christmas alive. Childhood, although chaotic and heart-breaking at times, was filled with love and joyful Christmas cheer: families around the table, wonky trees covered in garish baubles, which incidentally always fell off the tree, breaking into tiny pieces, casting shards of glass all over the floor which I always, without fail, trod on. Christmas was about anticipation, singing along to Top Of The Pops Christmas specials, gift wrapping, carrots for Rudolf and re-runs of old Christmas TV Specials: Only Fools and Horses, The Royale Family, quiz shows. Christmas was warm in my childhood. I wish I could bottle that feeling.
Then my teenage years approached- I fell in love and Christmas became an altogether new experience: a time for lovingly embracing with the love of my life, in my bedroom with candles aglow dreaming wistfully about future children. Christmas day was filled with presents from the lover: naughty chocolates, sensual nightwear (to be reserved for when living alone) visits as couples to different families, feeling a sense of belonging in the world like a rite of passage- being a part of the grown up world. It was also enjoyed with drunken nights out and endless parties thrown in for fun and good measure. That time was also warm but in a different way. Again, I wish I could bottle that feeling.
Then there came the Christmases after the break-up of first love when I was a student, living alone in a tiny little flat living on Mastercard's Credit Limit (which I am still paying off today almost 10 years later!) I remember the first ever time waking up alone on Christmas morning- I was 21 and had spent the night before sobbing childlike tears because it was the first time I would not be visiting my first-love's home in 5 years. I was sentimental. I was hormonal and I was cold. But, I was still Happy. A family Christmas dinner was awaiting me. Nothing could break my festive spirit. I was stoic in the face of adversity- maybe it was the hope that things would get better again but whatever it was: I wish I could bottle that feeling.
And this year- this year I am approaching 30 and I am the most comfortable off, financially, I have ever been, I am living with a supportive partner and I have a family who love me. I have a job and I have security. But, for some reason I just cannot get the festive warmth and cheer. Why is this? Maybe it is the depression, maybe it is life, maybe it is weariness or maybe it is my medication but whatever it is I am in despair and I need an antidote. I want the warm fuzzy feeling, the gut-wrenching excitement back. I am in no way a Scrooge: I have tried everything to keep my spirits up: My Living room is brightly lit with a gorgeous tree and lots of shiny presents which I have lovingly chosen for loved ones- and to add meaning I even handmade special gifts as extras all containing special Christmas poems. As far as I am aware I am going about the right way to get the Christmas feeling but why am I vacant?
I guess I will have to try to stop chasing the happiness. Maybe the answer is to sit back, relax and enjoy the small pleasures around me: 2 weeks leave from work, fragrant candles aglow, hot bubble baths, the smell of warm mince-pie, the texture of a gift before you tear it open, the look on the face of others when you get them that perfect gift, the smile and excitement of a child and the wonder of the beautiful world. I am blessed. I am lucky. I am more fortunate that those who will have nothing and no one this Christmas, not even basic essentials. But, Why can't I have happiness?
Dear Santa, if you are reading this please make me feel better soon.
