On December 24th, 2008 I was almost 21 and drinking wine at my Grandma’s house with my family. We were having a good time. I don’t really talk to that side of the family anymore though. I got a phone call from my best friend, Kyle. I joking let my uncle answer. Kyle asked to talk to me. He sounded angry.
The next few words he said were like a a fucking nuclear bomb that seared my fucking brain for life. He said, “NineMileTower, Steve died (in Iraq). A bridge gave out, his hummer flipped, and he drowned.”
That was in 2008. I’m 37 now. I have two beautiful girls and an amazing wife. I think of Steve all the time. I ask myself, “Why do I deserve these amazing kids, wife and life, and he had to die?”
I fucking hate Christmas. I hate the stupid music. I hate fake bullshit decorations. I hate that I’m supposed to pretend that every Christmas it doesn’t fucking kill me that he isn’t here. I’m here enjoying my kids and their holiday and he’s dead.
I fucking hate Christmas.
I’m sorry you lost someone you cared about so much. For whatever reason grief isnt looked at as serious mental anguish. It hurts to lose someone. It hurts so goddamn much and I’m sorry you are suffering.
And you’re allowed to hate Christmas. No one has to enjoy every holiday. There’s no law requiring you to like it. You’re not a bad person, and it’s perfectly reasonable to feel the way you do.
I fucking hate Christmas too. For similar reasons to yours. My friend was murdered many years ago in December and I still hate Christmas. So at the very least you aren’t alone, not that it takes the pain away or anything.
Remember, It’s okay to not be okay and to not participate if it’s negatively effecting you. Do what you need to do to survive the holidays. You matter too. Your pain is real, and self care is more important now than ever. I don’t care how cheesy or cringe I sound because it’s true. Please be kind to yourself.