I often struggle to open up and validate the mess of thoughts and emotions hidden within my heart. My brain is constantly turning out ideas, mulling over words, creating fears, and lingering on the insistent questions of an uncertain future.
I’m 34 years old this year. I still have not found the answer to how to willingly and fully sit with myself and my emotions. There is always an overwhelming urge to bury them and any unpleasant memories where I’ll never find them again.
But my body wants me to remember what my brain longs to forget.
Tonight, for example.
My husband is sound asleep, as are my children. But not so for this mom.
After three years of processing trauma, identifying toxic individuals, working on boundaries, and grieving over my own children’s serious medical issues, I DO know myself better.
I can recognize the signs of grief my body gives me. Lack of sleep, chest pain, outbursts of irritation, or anxiety attacks are all symptoms of my consciously choosing to ignore hard things. And I know that if I refuse to acknowledge those symptoms, my body will eventually force me to take notice one way or another. And that’s usually a one-way ticket on the Hot Mess Express.
So after hours of staring at the ceiling, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that sleep will not come tonight. I’m now downstairs on my couch with my laptop propped up and I’m ready to word vomit this all out.
So here we go, y’all.
This holiday season, I do not feel excited or festive.
Deep inside my body, grief is simmering. Much more than I realized.
Deeper yet, there is an intense humiliation and shame for even feeling that grief. Why? Because I was already grieving at Christmas last year. The wounded parts of my soul fear being an inconvenience.
Or worse yet, a permanent victim of the hardships of life. Out of that fear grows more shame and more questions about why I am the way that I am and why I feel such sadness.
I wish I had easy answers for myself. But I don’t.
What I do have are many unfulfilled longings, unmet expectations, and wishes that have not come to pass.
My young son has not outgrown his egg allergy. We were assured he had a great chance of outgrowing it by the time he turned three. And honestly, it might still happen. But for right now, in this season, my son has not been released from the grips of his food allergy.
We already know that my daughter is highly unlikely to outgrow her peanut and sesame allergy. She will be six this year and has started to show signs of anxiety around food. I watch her scan a room full of food and tears burn behind my eyes when I see her realize that she cannot eat any of it.
And I am ANGRY.
Angry that my gorgeous, clever, strong, precious children cannot eat whatever they want, whenever they want, wherever they want.
Moreover, I feel frustrated with the constant need to advocate for food safety, especially by those that I thought would care. Our extended family seems to continually forget this life-threatening hardship that my children face. To be fair, not everyone forgets. My parents, my sister-in-law, and a few others go above and beyond the call of duty in supporting my kids and ensuring food safety.
But most forget, or don’t ask, or get frustrated with us.
People say, “What? Do they still have allergies? I thought that was just a phase you guys were going through.”
For me, it means that every holiday gathering is a lot of work to gather information on what foods will be present. Additionally, I can’t always trust what I was told. One of the allergens will likely show up. So I still bring separate meals for my entire family as an extra layer of precaution.
The Pressure is Intense
But with my kids being little, if the allergen is present, I immediately go into hyper-vigilance mode. I cannot shut it off and just relax. Instead, the party becomes a stressful few hours of nonstop work for me. Once we are home and my adrenaline calms, I feel mentally and emotionally depleted.
And to top it all off, there are just so many life issues that have absolutely nothing to do with food allergies, but they complicate the feelings of grief at Christmas nonetheless.
There are people in my life that I no longer choose to be around or talk with due to how they treat me. For years I tried to deal with criticism, backhanded compliments, judgments, and insults. If I said I was hurt by their words, I was told that I was too sensitive and an emotional woman. If I asked them to stop a behavior, I was told that I made it all up, it never happened, or I was embellishing the facts.
Last year, we held people accountable for their words and actions for the first time.
The result was not pretty. I was blocked on social media, sent several long text messages about how awful I was, and then told that they were done forever with me.
And I fully agreed with their decision.
Was it sad? Yes, heartbreakingly so. No one wants to lose family and make a decision like that. But if you ask me if it is still necessary, the answer is also yes.
Since then, their anger has cooled and they’ve tried reaching back out. But I have decided that I will maintain the distance they originally enforced.
With everything that I am trying to manage in my life and my children’s lives, I simply do not have any capacity left inside of me to tolerate that type of abusive emotional and verbal yo-yoing.
The physical and emotional peace that I gained from that decision has been priceless.
And I guess that is the mindset in which I am now arriving.
My life is complex, difficult, and full of moments that cause anguish. I hold the hard in one hand and gaze upon the good in my other hand. This life has given me a beautiful family, a strong body that in turn can care for others, and a determined spirit that helps me increase my knowledge and spur emotional growth.
This life of mine IS priceless.
So this Christmas, I will unapologetically make whatever decisions and choices need to be made to protect my family’s peace, happiness, and safety. Those three things are invaluable and deserve to be guarded.
I hope that in writing down these thoughts, they will somehow reach another mother who might be wrestling with her very own inner struggles this holiday season.
May she know that she is not too much, not too little, or indefinitely alone in this great big world.
-Katie
What to Read Next, “Creating New Holiday Traditions”
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