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.

  • TheDannysaur@lemmy.worldEnglish
    0·
    3 days ago

    I’m sorry dude. That all just sucks.

    If I can offer a path of thought, it sounds a bit like you’re punishing yourself for being happy. It sounds like you have sort of a duality… You remember Christmas being a happy time with a lot of togetherness and love. And you also remember that it is the time when you heard this devastating news.

    You might sit and try to sort that out… Both of those things in your brain at the same time are certain to drive anyone a bit mad.

    But you don’t have to punish yourself for being happy sometimes. It really sounds like you have a big case of survivor’s guilt. There are pathways through that grief that may allow you to be happy and also honor the memory of a dear friend.

    There’s no “right” answer, just an answer that’s right for you. You might consider talking to someone to help you unwind this ball of thoughts. Perhaps on the other side is something you can do every holiday in honor of your friend to help pay him back by paying it forward. While he’s not here, maybe you could do something extra to spread Christmas cheer on his behalf. There’s a hole in the world where he used to be - you could potentially help fill that.

    It won’t be easy, but I’d encourage you to walk along the path of those thoughts and see if you can find some peace.

    I wish you luck, whatever you decide to do.