Share your lamest, most disappointing holiday memories

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
141

No, it was really about being sick at the sheer number of gifts they were giving this spoiled rotten little girl, year after year, the number always increasing, and calling it “Christmas” in a “Christian” family. Made me nausious just on the face of it and I had already spent several years complaining about this orgy of capitalist excess (falling on deaf ears) and how I wasn’t going to show up anymore if this is how it continued to play out.

Then the icing was me getting ONE present, and one that I absolutely despised, not one blessed thing I’d asked for*. When my adult sisters probably had at least a half dozen presents each, all things on their lists. It was kind of a deliberate slap in the face.

  • Which led to the next year; when I declined to provide the wish list my mother demands every year because for two years I hadn’t gotten a single thing on it; and said I wasn’t coming to Christmas anymore because it has ceased to be about Christmas and was just about how much crap they could give a spoiled little girl. I think my point got made, because over the next few years, the excess got severely reigned in.
142

Here is a blast from the past.
I Kill You Filthy, Bank Curve Subgroup A Subassebly B

143

  1. If you want people to take your threats seriously, you have to follow through on them. “If you keep giving that little 8-year-old girl lots of presents for Christmas, I’m not coming anymore!” really doesn’t mean anything when you show up anyway. And, uh, wow, that’s a lot of hatred directed at someone just because they got a lot of Christmas presents, but OK, I’m willing to guess there’s a lot of underlying stuff going on there that I’m not aware of.

  2. You despised the handmade blanket holder thingie? I mean, if your dad hated you or was deliberately slapping you in the face, he wouldn’t have gone to the time and trouble to hand-make you a present, right? I can see not being able to find a use for it, but…absolutely despising it?

  3. The bit about your sisters getting presents but you not, is the nuance that was missing. That would certainly irk. Although in general I find that the fastest road to family holiday trauma is when people start counting up the number of presents that everyone got, and comparing. But it’s hard not to notice when everyone else got several and you got one, I’ll readily admit that.

My own family just went through a massive brouhaha about how to handle adult gift-giving at Christmas so this is perhaps a raw topic for me right now.

144

Wow what a depressing topic but for some reason I can’t look away! It’s like driving past a car wreck; you just want to stare…then by your inattention, you end up hitting a car with Santa and the Easter Bunny carpooling on their way to a Thanksgiving dinner for orphans. :frowning:

I don’t really have much stories to share, my holidays growing up were more awkward than sad due to annoying relatives or my mom thinking we have too much food and giving away the best stuff to neighbors or relatives. Occasionally they’d get upset during the holidays, so by now the only thing I really look forward to is the food

145

My grandmother attempted suicide one Thanksgiving. I guess that’s as bad as it’s gotten hereabouts.

146

Hijack ahead, skip if uninterested:

The pic I submitted for the portrait gallery is me with the little Torqueling sleeping on my chest. Admittedly, she’s changed a bit since then.

We’re still on for the adoption, but things have slowed way, waaaay down. China is dragging its feet, probably for good reason, since they seem to have realized that there could be major problems down the line if all their girls leave the country. Our log-in date, the date on which we were placed in line in the computers at China’s Center of Adoption Affairs, is in late October, 2006. At that time, we were told the time from log-in to match would be about a year. As of today, the CCAA has matched through May 23rd, 2006, and they’re matching at a rate of about a week’s worth of dossiers every 35 days or so, getting farther and farther behind. It’s sped up a bit recently, probably because so many waiting parents have dropped out.

We’re officially over the four-year mark, and there’s not much we can do but hang in there. The size 2T shirt I bought that says, “I’m the big sister!” in Chinese no longer fits the little Torqueling. The really sad part is, now she’s old enough to ask questions about when her baby sister is going to be here. Just about breaks your heart when she asks, “What do you want me to teach baby sister?”, or when she pretends to get a call on her toy phone, “It’s baby sister’s momma in China, she says we can come get her!”

As for whether she got written up, I dunno, I’ll have to do some searching. I don’t know much about finding medical articles online…

147

I too got braces the day before Thanksgiving. Mom was very big on not getting me out of school for appointments, and I had sports practice after school eeeeeeevery day, so naturally, the day before Thanksgiving is a 1/2 day of school and I can get my braces on! curses

My poor SO turned 21 this summer. At long, long last - he is the youngest of any of my friends, his friends, and our friends. It is a momentous occasion - there are two separate parties planned, everyone is coming out of the woodwork for them.

He refuses to take a shot. Apparently in 3 years of college he’s never taken a shot. And his refusal (and piss poor attempts) proceed to piss everyone else around him off, including me (to a degree). So everyone’s kind of grumpy and the bill is huge because they’re buying him expensive scotch and whiskey (which he loves - sipping though).

The bar closes at 2 and most people depart despite a generally boring night. Two good friends stay and I DD to a casino. For some reason I forgot that they don’t take kindly to already drunk people going into casinos. Instead of being the last to go through security and show ID, shuffling the drunk friends ahead of me, I’m 3rd, followed by the drunkest of the lot. A freshman security guard won’t let him in (due to his response: how many have you had tonight? him: more than you know!) so we decide to have him “sober up” while walking around the garage. Two of them pee in corners, and security guards come out because they wanted us to come back, the freshman guard had screwed up. But when they see the puddles, everything changes. Everyone is arguing, they refuse to let us all in after awhile, one guy starts referring to himself as a “stupid Irish mick”, another guy tries to be bros with the older head of security. We leave under duress; if we said another word the troopers would have been called.

Ahh, and the worst part of it is the one BFF was so drunk that he couldn’t drive himself home…so I drive the lot back, and I’m assuming the other friend will drive the drunkest one home. Nope, that would be too much to ask for; he bails and leaves the SO and I to pick up the pieces. So we sober up at a dirty hole in the wall. Then the SO drives him and his car home - 30 minutes away, no less - while I follow them. Then I drive the SO back home.

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

148

Don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t feel that way. Don’t tell yourself you can’t let out your true feelings in a semi-anonymous place. In fact, I’d guess that the voice that’s telling you those things comes from your fucked-up background. (I mean that nicely, I swear - I come from FUB too. It’s a crowded place, and there are many FUB expats here. :)) There’s a reason these kinds of threads have such traction and longevity.

149

I was a pregnant teenager who surrendered my child to adoption at the ripe old age of 16yrs. And it very nearly shattered me.

That first Christmas, was, well, just awful. It was a tough thing all the way, everyday, every hour for years. But that first Christmas - nearly killed me.

I knew I’d made the right choice for my child, my world was full of dysfunction, addiction, violence, abuse, and I wanted better for her.

But that first Christmas. The thought of someone else cooing love for her, making their own memories, it very nearly almost did me in. When I went to bed that night, I remember thinking, “I’m not going to make it, I’ll never be able to go the distance.” It was a whole new level of “shattered”.

My own family was sitting right there, the whole time. No one said anything, made any reference, or acknowledgment, after all, it was my burden to bear. Each year it got a little easier, thank heaven.

But that first Christmas…

I have never shared this with anyone, I was afraid I would physically fall apart. Over 35yrs later, it still has the power to bring tears to my eyes just to share it with you all.

150

That’s a very sweet story elbows. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but it brought a tear to my eye as well.

151

I didn’t think I had anything to add… and then I remembered…

I was 13 and it was about two years after my parents’ divorce. My dad was already 18 months remarried. My sister and I lived with my mom full-time in Montana and saw my dad for scheduled visits in California during the summer.

It was Christmas morning. My mom always goes all out. Huge tree with all the family heirloom decorations, with a ton of presents under the tree. The living room of the house looked like Santa’s workshop exploded everywhere. My mom, my sister and I were all in our pajamas and about ready to start opening presents when there was a knock on the door. It was a police officer.

Apparently, my dad had filed a motion with the court* saying that my mother was unfit and he and his new wife were sitting in a rental car outside the house, ready to take my sister and me away.

My sister and I burst into tears, terrified that we might miss out on Christmas, that we might have to move away from our homes. My mom was PISSED. The cop was sheepish; clearly we weren’t living in a miserable, unhappy squalor and he was stuck dealing with ugly split family stuff.

We managed to find a judge that was answering his phone on Christmas day and the cop told him about the situation and about how my sister and I were happy where we were. We both had to have tearful conversations with him.

Eventually, we were allowed to stay with my mom (with a day in court later), but it was pretty awful. No one felt like celebrating any more.

*I couldn’t even tell you what the actual documents or legal proceedings entailed. I was too young when it happened to really understand anything beyond “My dad is trying to take me away from my MOM!” And even when I ask her about it today, my mom gets too angry to explain anything coherently.

152

TheMerchandise

Did anything change after that? The summer visits stopped or your mom lost custody. Your dad definitely picked Christmas day to ruin it for your mother, not even worrying about the impact on you. What a total ass.

elbows

I wish you had never had to make that life rending choice. That was definitely a giant divergence point for you and a number of people on that decision.

153

Harmonious Discord, that Christmas was one of the many events that lead to me and my sister being estranged from my father for close to 12 years now. It was definitely done on purpose to stick it to my mom. Her greatest pride in her life, even to this day, is being a good mother.

154

I take it you stayed with your mother then.

155

Yes we did.

156

The broken 16yr old, inside me, appreciates these words, more than can be expressed. When you can reach across the internet, back 35+ yrs and touch someone, that’s a pretty amazing day!

Within but a couple of years, what was breaking my heart, became the very thing that began to heal it. As I imagined her Christmas mornings, I pictured her, with parents, (unable to have their own child, perhaps, and all the more adoring and attentive, as a result!), showering their love on her like rain. It became, not a torment, but an inoculation of some sort. Life’s funny, like that.

This Christmas I will spend time cooing love, and rocking, on my lap, my 5 month old Grandson. My daughter searched ten years, found me, and we have had a truly enchanted reunion. I could not possibly respect, admire or adore her more. Every thing I’d wished for her, came to her, it was, just as I’d pictured it. Oh, and she just happens to be spectacularly beautiful, and brilliantly accomplished, and I’m not exaggerating.

That anything, so traumatic and wounding could be so, suddenly and unexpectedly, resolved is a miracle to me, with every breath I take. A weight is lifted, a heart heals, a lifetime of tiny lies, and wee secrets ends. It’s been a remarkable journey.

(apologies if I’ve just killed your thread!)

157

** sniff **

158

The most difficult Christmas for me was when my grandmother died. She had been in ill health for several months and spent her final 6 months in a nursing home. About a week before Christmas, I received word that she was not doing well. Then, on Dec 22nd, I get a call from my sister telling me that she had taken a turn for the worse and died. I was in Virginia and I had to drive to Missouri for her funeral. I stayed with my family for several days and then drove back to Virginia in early January.

Well, when I got back home, I discovered the mailbox was overflowing, since I’d forgotten to make arrangements for a neighbor to collect the mail. In the mail, I found a Christmas card from her, signed “Love, Grandma”. She had Parkinsons Disease and the writing was not legible (my dad addressed the envelopes). Made me cry.

At the time, it made me very sad, but now I think it was great to have that one final Christmas card from her, and of course, I still have it.

159

elbows

That’s wonderful how you’ve been reunited and can enjoy your visits with your daughter and grandchild now. It doesn’t surprise me that she sought you out. I’m glad you both can enjoy each others company now. The past is done and the future is what counts now. Make the most of what you can affect now. There is a whole future to enjoy and build on.

160

I had a nervous breakdown one Christmas Day (16 or so)-I basically became old enough to grasp that physical things weren’t what I wanted and needed, but not wise enough (yet) to know what would (yes grammar trouble sue me). Started when I opened my first present in the morning, sobbed pretty much for most of the daylight hours after that.