It’s Stephen’s Day, or boxing Day if you’re in the UK. I don’t know if it has a name in the States or elsewhere. December 26th: the day the magic dies.
There’s no circumstantial, tangible reason why I should feel so frustrated and alone today: yesterday was a pleasant day with family and gin (with no migraine side effects from either the family or alcoholic spirits); dinner was delicious; Downton Abbey was gushily tide in its finale; the gifts were thoughtful and my Nana enjoyed her post-feast bingo. I was able to buy presents for everyone and they liked them. We were warm and comfortable and together which is infinitely more than many people had and experienced. The RDS was crammed with homeless people who had nowhere else to go as was a local charity café here in my hometown that seems to do great work. I’m sitting here with a box of biscuits, a cup of tea and plenty of heat. The two dogs are sprawled out in front of me.
So what the fuck is wrong with me?
Maybe I’m missing the gym? My body has become used to producing endorphins through exercise and doesn’t know how to convert mince pies into happy hormones.
I slept for ages last night but the nightmares and cold sweats were unsettling and disturbed my slumber repeatedly. I had horrible dreams again: the kind where no matter how much you shout and scream and try to explain something to someone, they just don’t listen and no matter what you do they refuse to just listen. The sheets were soaked as were three pairs of pyjamas. I was freezing.
Somebody take this bloody box of biscuits away from me.
Despite twelve hours in bed, I could easily nap right here.
Jesus, your birthday is a tough season. I’m afraid to read through last year’s holiday posts because I’m sure they’ll just confirm that I haven’t learned anything; developed as a cognicent and grateful human or become more steady in my resolve against boxes of biscuits.
Despite a fortunate day yesterday, these nightmares have really unsettled me. I know that sounds ridiculous: they’re just dreams; unreal and transparent. I have enough money in my account so that I don’t need to panic about January bills. I can easily drive up to the gym and take a class or two tomorrow to kickstart the endorphin manufacturing belt once again. Everyone is healthy.
Do you struggle over the holidays? I’ve seen so many posts from charities warning of the pitfalls of the holiday season; telling me it’s ok not to be full of the joys and I’ve even reposted some of this on Dotty’s Facebook and posted my own advice on not expecting too much of yourself over Christmas. None of that seems to stop me feeling like I’m the grinch in a pretty dress though.
Routine and normality will soon return and along with it 2016 and my 35th birthday. Somehow, I have to find the energy to make this year a year where I finally get my life (and my head) in order. I’m so over Christmas now.
Do let me know if you’re my grinch twin.