It’s been the most perfect Christmas ever.
There was never a happy Christmas in my family therefore I grew up fearing them deeply. The closer the Christmas was, the more anxiety I had. And for the right reason. My family’s tradition on Christmas was fighting until everyone would end up in tears.
Later on, in my youth, I usually got myself quite drunk at a party or in a club on Christmas’ Eve, which made me quite absent for the next couple of days because, you see, the point of getting drunk was not to actually feel drunk but to have a long hangover. Cancelling a strong pain by enforcing a milder one upon myself was my way of dealing with things back then.
But not anymore. I am starting to be on top of my life now, well, at least I am trying. I only feared Christmas a tiny bit this year. But it didn’t cause me any anxiety whatsoever.
I distanced myself from what is making me miserable at the moment, with a little bit of luck, to be honest. I followed none of the traditions, though. I am taking baby steps and making a Christmas a tree still takes a great effort. I am not there yet. But I enjoyed the decorations in the Central London, I really did. And I listened to old Christmas carols. I love them. In fact, I am listening to them as I write.
What else? I didn’t wrap presents because I bought everything online and it consisted of vouchers and stuff. But I wrote two letters, by hand, and that’s huge for me. I wanted to do Christmas cards but only thinking of the process got me tired. Buy cards, write cards, post cards. No. Not yet.
On Christmas Eve I got myself Netflix. I haven’t watched TV in ages, I only saw films at the cinema this year and not that many. I feel like an old person whenever people discuss TV series and films and stuff. I know nothing.
Like the good atheist that I am, on Christmas Eve I watched Nymphomaniac vol. II. I didn’t dare to watch the first one, I’ve heard it is even worse than the second. No, it didn’t arouse me, I am that boringly normal. I got the message of the movie but boy, I had to force myself to go through all the movie. You need an open mind, an understanding of depression, a good stomach and a lot of time to waste, to be able to watch it all. Honestly. Later that day I watched Dallas Buyers Club and I gained utmost respect for Jared Leto. He played the tranny majestically. I ended up my screening time with Dom Hemingway and now I have a serious crush on Jude Law.
On Christmas Day I opened presents and watched Iron Man 2, with the clear purpose to cultivate my long lasting love for Robert Downey Jr. Then I got naughty. More than one year ago I promised myself to never watch TV series anymore, because I always ended up doing binge watching which is such a waste of precious time when I could do binge reading instead.
So yesterday I decided to try to watch the pilot of Sherlock, with Benedict Cumberbatch. I went to bed at 3 am. Because I watched the first two seasons. Fortunately, there are no other available seasons on Netflix, which means I can carry on with my life now, but I must confess, I’ve caught myself googling how to rent/buy the next seasons…
Other than Netflix, my Christmas included peace of mind, Cadbury chocolates, some catching up with dear ones and yummy cooking did by yours truly. Nothing extravagant and nothing traditional.
The point is I obviously have hard time keeping up with traditions, partially because I am lazy and partially because some of them are triggers of bad memories. But I can start my own traditions. For now, chocolates, movies and quiet time are on the list. I am no fan of a busy Christmas day, surrounded by lots of people.
Christmas day, in my opinion is the day you spend in a festive pajama, being a guilt free coach potato. We have New Year’s Eve to be glamorous and social.