Christmas Makes Me Cry

Well, it's actually the entire winter season, if I'm being honest.

It's no secret that the winter months are hard for me.  I know it's coming, I'm prepared for it--then WHAM!  Depression slams into me, and I'm left flat on my back on the floor, wondering if anyone got the license plate of the Mack truck that just hit me.  Even though I know it hits me every year, it still takes me by surprise.  I want to hibernate until mid-April.  I growl and snarl.  I yell and throw things.  I cry and whine.  I forget to laugh, and I forget to have fun. I know I'm not a pleasant person.  There's a phrase I just learned that fits it to a T: "When crazy meets exhaustion."  Yep.

It's not fun.

We were kind of hoping I would be flying a little higher this season thanks to pregnancy hormones (I sailed through my pregnancy with Avery), but that has not happened yet.  Shawn remarked a few weeks ago how happy I was when I was pregnant with Avery, that quite possibly it's the happiest he's ever seen me, and how wonderful it was.  Even though I know this is biological and beyond my control for the most part, I feel as though I'm disappointing him--as well as our children--because I'm not my happiest.  I'm not even a little happy right now.

I don't want to be this person.

Much of it is Christmas itself.  I'm overwhelmed, and not in a good way.  I'm struggling. I tell myself if I can just get through December, I'll be better.  Sometimes I even go so far as saying I hate Christmas, even though I know it's not the actual holiday I hate, it's the pressure from October (when it starts now) to January (when it finally ends). God forgive me, I even want to snarl "Bite me" when someone wishes me a Merry Christmas.  There's so much to be done, so much rushing, so much not stopping to enjoy the season.  Everything, including breathing, just becomes such a chore.  It's the over-commercialization of it, the greed, the intensity of the buy-buy-buy mentality, the need to rush through a day of thanksgiving with our families just so we can go out and buy MORE STUFF that very same night! I get cynical and disillusioned.  We are lucky we are able to provide for our children year round, and sometimes the idea of 'having' to buy them more for one particular day, well, it frustrates me.  Yes, I want to give my children gifts, but the societal pressure--oh my gosh.    The sight of--the need for--angel trees makes me cry.  As a mom, I cannot fathom having to rely on the kindness of strangers to provide for my children.  We chose two little girls from the tree at church--and you know what they asked for?  Winter coats.  It broke my heart.  Then I start thinking about everything Mary must've gone through--did she want to run and hide her child away, knowing the prophesy over him?  My heart breaks for her, mom to mom.  Knowing that little baby boy's future, what he would do to save the world, and everything his mother went through--I cry with gratitude, as well as sadness.  I have delayed decorating because I'm just not feeling it, and I know that's not fair to the boys.  Christmas music makes me either dissolve into tears, or want to throw something.  I won't even get into what those schmaltzy annoying Hallmark Christmas movies make me want to do--well, the commercials anyway (I wouldn't even make it five minutes into the actual movie).  Ugh.  We did finally do some decorating this weekend, but we did it to the 80's hard rock station on Pandora because the thought of Christmas music made me want to curl up in a ball and die.  Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train....

I try to keep the magic alive for my boys.  I try to remember to do fun things, but at times I just don't have the energy for it.  I want them to remember the joy of this season, the magic, and the reason.

Instead, I start feeling like--and acting like--a cross between Scrooge and Grumpy Cat, rather than the Tiny Tim and Mrs Claus combination my family deserves, and needs me to be.

Major Mommy Fail.

I promised myself I would not do this.  Perfection, and the ensuing stress, were the theme of the holidays in my house growing up.  Christmas was nice, but it was just plain stressful and not always enjoyable.  Much of the time, it was miserable, and like the other 364 days of the year, it was dysfunctional. While my parents strived to make it different, it ended up being just another day of the year, albeit with decorations and presents. Perfection always backfired, and there was plenty of blame thrown around.  I promised myself my children would have a different holiday experience.

I want to find my joy.  I want to teach my children to celebrate their joy.

All of this makes me feel as though I'm being incredibly ungrateful. Then I feel guilty.  We do have so much to be thankful for--and so many people to be thankful for.  Our lack of family at the holidays doesn't even bother me anymore (I've come a long way to be able to say that) because God has provided so many friends for our boys, so many people who speak into their lives, so many people who love them.  I am grateful that our boys are so covered, that we are able to provide for them, and I'm grateful that we have money leftover to help others during this season.  That's another thing that had me in tears (a pregnant woman bawling her eyes out in the toy section of Walmart is NOT a pretty sight)--I am feel overwhelmingly blessed and grateful for all that we are able to do.

Again, I know much of this is biological and beyond my control.  While I cannot control the misfiring neurotransmitters and poorly moderated brain chemicals, I know I can control how I react to all of this.  It's up to me to take control of that much, and do what I can to turn it around.  I know I put too much pressure on myself, and that in itself is overwhelming.  I know I need to step back, reevaluate what is truly the most important, and start from there.  I can tell myself that if XY and Z don't get done, it will not be the end of the world.  Isn't it more important for my children to have a fun, meaningful Christmas filled with Jesus, rather than the perfect Christmas with the perfect gifts?  The answer there is a resounding YES.

Big girl panties pulled up...  Here we go.  Once I'm finished hiding in the corner in the dark, of course.