A nightmare before Christmas
I think I’m going through some kind of life crisis – I’m stressed, anxious and super happy, all at the same time. Content but completely discontent, like I have some kind of bipolarity running through my veins. Clearly, I don’t, but I feel so split in all my feelings at the moment. Not sure if it’s the Christmas period and the underlying duality I have towards THIS particular festive season. Although I’ve really tried to make the holiday my own, creating new memories and new traditions, I still can’t shake off this uncomfortable and anxious feeling. Maybe it’s seeing all the reels of American families spending every weekend together, happy, in a unity of two parents, children and a golden retriever, decorating a white plastic tree, drinking hot chocolate, consuming and consuming (*cough* I’m the grinch!). Granted I might be masking my sadness (and envy) by “blaming” it on all the bloody happiness that’s shoved in my face at this time of the year. But perhaps it all comes down to family. Oh yes my friends, family, the dreaded word.
Having family in different countries has always been such a joy and something I’m eternally grateful for, but I also despise it. There’s no safe space or core to where I belong. I always joke saying “I’m European” – but in reality, I have no idea what that actually means. I’m an outsider in Sweden, an outsider in France, an outsider in the Czech Republic and now an outsider in the UK (spot the foreign girl – as a builder once jokingly said about me (dick!)). But back to Christmas – I can’t help feeling envious of my friends who go home over the Christmas period to see their parentS – plural – parents, with a big S. Throughout my childhood Christmas was always split between two homes, two ideas, two identities, two feelings.
I’m not blaming anyone for this – and especially not my parents (being an adult now, I know how complex life can be) – but I can’t help think that this has definitely affected me and my relationship towards unity and safety. My Christmases used to be filled with anxiety because I never wanted to leave anyone behind. But from 2 o’clock on Christmas Eve, one of my parents were by themselves. Alone, looking at all the Christmas movies we were supposed to look at together, by themselves. And this Christmas it’s even worse because of the pandemic. My father is sitting at home alone, granted in a sunny France. And me, I’ll be in Sweden with the other parent. It’s a tormenting feeling, yet one that I’m so used to, that it feels as if I’m incapable of changing. In the meantime, I’ll just continue portraying myself as the grinch and look at reels of the American Christmas dream (at least I can do it in front of a fire, eh!).
As always, do press the little heart if you like this post – it brings me so much joy to know that you are reading and liking what I’m writing.
Jag blir så otroligt glad om ni klickar på det lilla hjärtat så jag vet ifall ni gillar det jag gör.64