I hate Christmas. Always Have, Probably Always Will

I hate Christmas. I hate the holidays. Seriously. I’ve had difficulty dealing with this time of year for decades. Dealing with my depression is so much more difficult, becoming a 24-7 job for me.

It’s far more difficult for me when I’m in a relationship at this time of year. If I’m alone, I can withdraw into the emotional shield of ignoring it. I did that until I was 27 years old, and that became the one method I was comfortable with. Being in a relationship at this time of year is outside my comfort zone, because I can’t go into that cave. There’s the added pressure of gift-giving and the guilt I always feel whenever I receive a gift. I hate receiving gifts from anyone at any time because I feel so guilty, but even more so when it comes from those closest to me. I don’t know how to handle it and the guilt eats at me. It doesn’t matter if I’ve done something for someone and they feel that they have to repay me. I do things for others because I care about them. I do things for others because it’s the right thing to do. I do things for others because it helps them. I don’t do it to get something in return. If I could put myself into a cryogenic suspension on November 1 to be brought back out of it on December 26th, I’d do that every year.

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