It’s here, people! Look alive, now. It’s the Schmolidays stress in full effect! For me, it has nothing to do with gifts, as we aren’t even really doing gifts this year, for anyone. One good thing about being broke with twins is no stress about gifts. People understand. For me, it’s all about stress with the gatherings of people. I get a mean case of the nerves. Holiday stress is stressful.
Thanksgiving came and went in a flurry of family and foods – I EVEN GOT TOFURKEY – and veggie stuffing from my lovely In-Laws because they knew I’d want it and now here we are at the beginning of December. It’s a tradition for me that I get stressed out before every family gathering because I excel at that shit and dammit, I want to be the best at what I do.
No matter how often I remind myself and others remind me that I have zero control over what others do or say, I still stress. I must really enjoy it on some level. I DO NOT FUNCTION WELL IN BIG LOUD CROWDS. I just don’t. My husband’s family is a big loud crowd. They are the loveliest of people, it has nothing to do with them. It has everything to do with me.
The next day, I inevitably feel like, well, what the hell was I so stressed out about? And yet, and yet, I still do it. I’ll do it again at Christmas. Because when you excel at something you really really want to share it with your family. My husband enjoys my stress and thinks it’s quite charming (vehemently shaking my head, NO – NO HE DOES NOT). But he does understand it. He’s patient with me to a point. When I inevitably cross a line and we battle it out we then make up and move on to have a lovely day. You see, when you have a partner who gets you, who loves you, who knows why you are the way you are, you have your greatest champion right there.
I said to my dear sweet husband, “I wish I could drink” at the height of my stress that day. Of course he knows I don’t mean it and I know I don’t mean it, but just for a glorious moment, it would be lovely to escape some stress that way or at least have a smoke gotdammit. I got no bad vices left, well, just the bed pie. Except for me, there is no glorious moment if I have a drink. Only a spiral down into hell so fast that the moment never even happens. Again, my husband gets it. I’m so grateful.
The beginning of December is here ready or not. We even went downtown today to look at the Macy’s windows and tried to see Santa Claus – but forget that line nonsense. We tried to visit the very crowded Christkindl Market and see the massive tree in Daley Plaza and let’s just say it was so crowded that we are going to take a day off work and go again. IT WAS CROWDED. My husband was right. Dammit. But the babes eyes grew so big at everything they witnessed, I think they might sleep until 8am again tomorrow morning, just like they did this morning. FINGERS CROSSED.
If we could only have the gift of hindsight beforehand, things would be so much easier, wouldn’t they? I know from experience that I don’t NEED to stress about any of this stuff. My gut and my entire being KNOW this to be true, and yet, my nerves get me every single time. It’s a character defect. It’s one I work really hard to get rid of. But I also embrace it as I embrace myself for exactly who I am today with all my flaws and nonsensical reactions to things I have no control over. A big part of recovery is letting go and accepting I have no control over anything or anyone but myself. I’ve come a long way, baby. But not all the way, so I still work on all this.
My perspective about everything has been dramatically altered since babies. BIG SHOCK, I KNOW. I don’t have time to waste worrying about shit I used to worry about, and really, life is happening, right now, so why would I waste time on shit I have no control over?
I go round and round in circles with myself saying, “STOP IT. STOP STRESSING OVER THIS NONSENSE.” It usually helps. It brings me back to the MOMENT AT HAND. At least most of the time I can pull myself back out and the times that I can’t, I have people around me who help me to do that. Most of all these babies. When I look at them, nothing else matters. Nothing. It all slips away and I can forget about me for the time being and that is so helpful. I’m not really all that, anyway. I believe these babies pick up on our stress and I do not want to pass that on. I’m going to work even harder.
So Schmoliday stress? Yeah you with your unattainable expectations and your inevitable letdown, YOU CAN GO POUND SAND. I’ve got bigger bed pies to eat.
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Too Sober For This 