Mine was this year. Or will be this year, anyway. Nasty confrontation with parents over residency issues with the colleges. Really nasty. I ended up slipping away in the wee hours of the morning before eventually retreating halfway across the country entirely.
So now I’m here–with no money. No job. No college. All I’ve got is some credit card debt, and whatever I could fit into my car, which is old and about ready to fall apart.
My current roommates, although kind enough to take me in, barely make enough to support themselves, and I’m kinda surprised they let me stay here. I’ll be spending Christmas alone, and my entire family will be spending it knowing that they’ve been forsaken by their only son. So it’s gonna be a shiatty holiday all around.
However, as a firm believer in that old Callahanian proverb, “Shared pain is lessened, shared joy is strengthened”, I will not sulk and wallow in self-pity, but instead look here to the good Dopers, and implore thee:
Last year. I worked 16 hours at my job. On Christmas.
I didn’t have anything spectacular planned at home, I couldn’t go back to L.A. to have a real Christmas with everyone there, so I figured, what the hell. I covered for a coworker (who actually had some decent Christmas plans) and did a double shift.
Man, did it suck.
This year, I have the ENTIRE WEEK off. No way am I getting sucked into working on Christmas this year.
When I was 7, and my next-oldest sister was 9, we both had the stomach flu on Christmas day! We spent the entire day laying on opposite ends of the sofa and puking. I’m guessing our parents and other siblings weren’t having a great time either.
Ashtar I don’t know if you believe in God, and I know you didn’t ask for this, but I’m gonna say a prayer for you anyway, because what you’re going through really sucks. (And, even if you don’t believe, a prayer couldn’t hurt, and the good vibes might help).
My worst Christmas ever was last Christmas. My Mom was in the hospital recovering from brain surgery(!) and I was terribly stressed out & worried. She was fairly young & had come very close to death.
I had to leave Ohio (where she was) December 23 to come home. I was alone on Christmas Day. I didn’t feel like celebrating anything. The only redeeming moment of that day was when my phone rang & it was my Mom calling me collect.(She wasn’t supposed to have a phone in ICU but I think she must have bugged the Nurses long enough - or maybe they were just kind souls & thought it up themselves).
For Christmas I walked down the road from the little base we had and bought myself a bottle of whiskey for $10. Most of the rest of the company did the same. Christmas consisted of drunk Marines wandering around waving their bottles in the air and wishing everyone they saw a merry Christmas.
Elementary school. Chicken pox the first day of Christmas vacation. Recovery the night before the first day of school after Christmas. It pretty much sucked.
Last year wasn’t so hot, either. I had to take my wife to the emergency room first thing in the morning (bunch of medical problems, but she’s all better now), I spent the day divided between the hospital and my in-laws’ house, and then that night my car broke down just in time for me to walk around in a pleasant mix of snow, rain, and sleet.
Today’s the 21st. On the morning of December 21, 2000, I delivered my mother’s eulogy. She had died in my arms the previous week, succumbing at age 56 to metastatic breast cancer.
John Irving had this to say :
“The yuletide is a special hell for those families who have suffered any loss, or must admit to any imperfection”.
So each year since, instead of intoning prayers or chorusing carols, I read “A Prayer for Owen Meany”.
I hope someday I can replace this with tales of drunken Santas or flaming Advent wreaths, or something equally in keeping with the season.
On Christmas Eve day, traveled a couple of hours to spend it with friends (husband and wife). Showed up and they both had the flu but the roads had been shut down so I couldn’t go home. They were in bed by 8 pm and I spent Christmas Eve sleeping on a strange couch and watching 3 TV channels.
Christmas Day I figured I’d stay around and play nursemaid. Much appreciated. In the afternoon I took off for a hike to let them take a long nap. I kind pushed it a little too much and found myself (and dog) on a knife edge ridge with a 200 foot drop on one side and no way to back track since I’d kicked off the snow on the ridge top.
I had to jump off a 30 foot cliff into a snow-covered coulee. I then had to free-climb back up because my dog wouldn’t jump off after me. After the free climb I had to hold a 70 pound malmute in my arms and do the 30 foot jump again, hoping that I wouldn’t hit any rocks I’d exposed with the first jump.
It took another two hours to hike back out.
When I got back to the friends house they were even sicker and I discovered that I had semi-severe frostbite on my left hand from free-climbing at -20. When I got home the next day, I came down with the flu.
Whistlepig
And then there was the time I had to eat overcooked elk steak on a tequila hangover with all my mom’s friends . . .
Just a thought that it is a few days before Xmas and maybe there is time to make it a good one. Making that Christmas call home to the parents now just might be the best present you can give yourself and them.
My worst was probably my sophmore year in college. Went back to my father’s (who had recently re-married) place for the day. Spent far too much money than a poor student could really afford on presents for everyone including my step-siblings. Two of 'em chipped in to buy a 6 pak of Michelob, one didn’t get me anything, and then I got to watch them all grand slam the presents and I got two crappy after thoughts of an excuse from my Dad. Of course, they also knew I was a vegetarian back then and I was told not to bring anything, so I had my fill of mashed potatoes and green salad. :mad:
1983–I was pregnant and not working, my husband lost his job (and health insurance) a week before Christmas. Our car stopped running, we had lots of debt and little cash, our families were both hundreds of miles away. I was too proud to tell them the fix we were in and spent Christmas Day pretending everything was ok when I really had a knot in my stomach the whole time (and it wasn’t the baby!).
By the next year, hubby was gainfully employed, we had a healthy baby girl, and had begun digging ourselves out of the debt hell hole. And Christmas was so much sweeter having been through that nightmare.
To all who are struggling with health, family, money issues large and small this year: my most sincere wishes for the strength to get through your troubled present and may your future hold better times.
My worst, my brother and I went to town after having Christmas dinner w/ the folks. We stopped at a local bar to have a couple of drinks and shoot some pool.
Long story short…some drunks there started a fight and we all wound up spending Christmas in jail.
See, now sugaree and t-keela, that’s what I’m talkin’ about ! Good old fashioned drunks, Santas, and the family pet ! Could the dog have been on fire ?
After a few years you can even pretend that it didn’t happen to you.
My best Christmas ever ? Next year. Definitely next year. Snow will fall gently, a beautiful woman will help me wrap presents, and that punk Bob Cratchit will stop making me look bad at work.
I feel kind of pathetic at this, but, hell, I’m sixteen and I’ve got an entire lifetime for traumatizing Christmases.
But to the tale –
I think I was nine or so the year I was rushed to the hospital on Christmas day. I was feeling really sick and dizzy and couldn’t stand up or even sit up, so my mother drove me to the ER. They took my temperature – 102.something, when I’m normally somewhere in the area of 97 degrees – and then gave me medicine and sent me home. I ended up vomiting all over my grandmother’s floor during the family Christmas celebration. It was terrible. I was too dizzy to even open my eyes to open gifts with the rest of the family so I lay on the floor on a pile of pillows while everyone enjoyed their Happy Christmas.
Thankfully, I’ve had pretty good Christmases since then.
Wow…I didn’t notice this thread was even still alive. I thought it just slipped right off the page unnoticed.
Reading over all of your entries makes me glad that I started this thread…glad that we can bring our painful memories out to share…along with all of our hopes, for better years.
Well, for xmas 1998 I had the flu BAD, gushing at both ends Spent the entire day on the couch, trying to rehydrate.
Last year I’d fought with my then-fiance on Christmas Eve and hadn’t spoken to him on Christmas Day. It was quite miserable.
My worst Christmas was in 1997. Two days before Christmas, my (now-ex) wife decided to announce that she had filed divorce papers. That kinda took the joy out of the holidays. We had just celebrated our 19th anniversary the previous month.
