Strangle me with the Christmas Cord

"that's me in the corner
that's me in the spotlight
losing my religion..."
-R.E.M.

Needless to say, Christmas sucked.  I spent it with hundreds of toothless rednecks who got drunk and blew their cigarette smoke in my face.  No, I actually wasn't with family, although that description isn't much of a stretch from the usual Jackson get-togethers.  I was working.  And it was crazy busy.  On Christmas Eve, the place was virtually dead but everyone came out to celebrate our savior's birth by drinking and gambling.  Ah, it warms my stagnant heart.

I'm not really a big fan of my extended family so I wasn't too terribly upset about missing Christmas with them this year.  I was a bit more upset about missing Christmas Eve, which is when my immediate family get together.  It's the one I enjoy the most.  And I missed it because I had to work.  But, like I said, it wouldn't be that big of a deal for me...if I liked my job.  I still hate it and things haven't gotten any better.  Throw away empty beer bottles.  Scrape ashtrays.  Wipe away fingerprints.  Scrub away the stickiness from spilled drinks on the machines.  Push up the chairs that people do not bother to put back in place.  Cry on the inside.  Rinse and repeat for eight hours.

I have never been this depressed on Christmas.  And just maybe I've never been this empty in general.  This is the day I was supposed to celebrate the birth of our lord and savior and yet He was the farthest thing from my mind, a common occurrence lately.  I'm depressed and then this whole God situation makes me even more depressed.  I don't know where to turn.

And to top it off, I found out the next day that my aunt died on Christmas.  Good timing, eh?  Celebrating the birth of one and mourning the loss of another.  As if the day wasn't emotionally exhaustive enough.  Don't feel bad, though.  Like most of my family, I wasn't that close to her, at least not in the later years.  She was a chain smoking drunk who caused a lot of problems for my grandmother, which caused Mom a lot of grief as well.  But, really, how many dead family members does this make now?  2009 has been a year full of celebrity and relative deaths.  It's pretty tiresome.

To me, it seems the older people get, the more disastrous major holidays like Christmas become.  I think one part of it is the fact that all that magic dissipates with age.  The myth of Santa is broken and then you get too old for toys and eventually your parents make your car payment for you or chip in with your rent money and that's your gift.  While necessary, it's not as fun as a Wii.  Then, the drama sets in.  With age comes insight and you start seeing your family for who they are and they are definitely imperfect.  Conflicts arise and family bonds are strained.  Then, one by one they start dying and those bonds are cut and everything starts to feel sore.  You have to work on Christmas or you find yourself alone and drinking.  You don't want your photo taken by the tree because you're too fat or your acne has flared up again.  You freak out about buying things for other people because you want to both please and impress.  It becomes less about God and more about gifts.  It's more stressful than satisfying.  The mask of magic is cracked by reality and it's all just so disenchanting.

It doesn't even feel like Christmas happened.  I've been so caught up in a swirl of working and sleeping that I've lost all track of time, space and reality.  And maybe it's for the best.  It's not like I would have enjoyed myself.  I have nothing in common with my family.  I certainly have nothing in common with the patrons at the bingo pavilion.  At least with the holidays out of the way, things can return to the normal numbness.  If I can just make it past New Year's, I can leave behind the year that was the death of my faith, family and me.