I know. I know. One should never plan to give without expecting anything in return, not gifts, gratitude, respect, or even a little human decency and God knows I've spent my life being a people pleaser, so much so that I just don't know where to draw the line, when to ask for help or when to stop doing something because I can't cope.
Yes, @zakludick and I pulled out the stops. We dug deep for that Christmas magic and I almost worked myself to death in the kitchen. I also don't want people helping me in the kitchen because once I get into a rhythm, it's like... my space, you know? Also, there's nothing like your mother coming around every five seconds to see if she can pull something out of the cupboard from exactly where you are standing, or randomly just start stirring shit (I mean food) where she has no business stirring... sigh 🙄🙄🙄
Last year, 2023 - and thank GOD I can finally call that last year now- was just too freaking much. I spent the latter half of the year, while still grappling with unresolved trauma and clinging to the magic of Christmas, being the band-aid for all our hurt.
I wanted it to be perfect. Because our kids deserve that. We do too. However, if it's within my power to make Christmas magical I damn well will.
The issue though, is who to invite and who not to invite. After my father passed away this year, mortality gave me a real shakeup and I was thrilled when I heard my mom was coming to us for Christmas. It's like all the boundaries I've spent so carefully constructing over the last two years just came crashing down and instead of spending the time between Christmas and New Year in a blissful food coma, as one should, I spent it fighting.
We didn't even make it the whole way through Christmas day. I don't want to spend this whole post moaning about my family, but I am hoping it will pop up this year as a cautionary tale of why I am probably never going to host a big Christmas like that again, like Scrooge and the Ghosts of Christmas past, but backwards.
It will be like some kind of Christmas gremlin appearing to remind me that no matter how hard we worked, how perfect the food was, or how beautiful our home looked, people will find a reason to be miserable with you. Either you didn't give them what they wanted as a present or there are judgments about your home, parenting styles, lifestyle choices and oh my hat does the list go on.
It should have been a sign when my oven wasn't roasting/ baking/working properly that I should have just taken Zak up on a
Christmas Braai... but what is Christmas without Christmas food? And Christmas food leftovers?
So my mom made it to day 3.5 of the 11 days she was supposed to spend with us and I couldn't freaking take it anymore. She's still here from the UK, and I might spend some limited time with her before she goes back, but, if I hadn't learned the lesson by now, and I thought I was crazy and making it all up, this year's Christmas proved that those boundaries need to stay where they are for a very good reason.
Yes, life is short. Yes, we should appreciate each moment we have with our loved ones, but you know, having been on both sides of that coin this year, this sentiment is also how the unhealthy people in our lives find a way to worm back in.
With the money we spent on Christmas, I think we should just go away. Far Far away. And spend the Christmas weekend just chilling close to the sea and not giving a crap about what anyone else thinks.
We went out for a totally awesome evening for New Year's, but that is when I started feeling sick. You know what I got for Christmas? Freaking gastritis. That's what.
I have felt, for the last 5 days, like I am literally dying. Somewhere between labour pains and how it feels when you pass gallstones (lucky me, I've been through both). Nauseous as hell, excruciating pain, bloating...
I've been living on plain yogurt and banana with honey (which is really nice actually) and slices of toast. I can't look at most food without wanting to run to the big white telephone. And considering how sore I am, I cannot comprehend throwing up right now. I'll die, so I'm chugging whatever I can to keep that at bay... Herbal tea, citrus soda....
I know I can't really blame anyone but myself here, but I can't help but feel like some people think I'm a damn punching bag, and using the "but we're family" card is just not going to cut it anymore when it comes to being abusive.
I don't know if it's gastritis (too much ibuprofen) or gastroenteritis (a severe tummy bug) but damn. What a way to start the year. My body is shattered. I'm burnt out and extremely sick.
If I hadn't been monitoring my blood pressure daily and my temperature, or if I'd noticed any drastic changes, I would have got Zak to take me to Emergency. I was really worried. And what did I do it all for? So everyone could be angry with me and I'd be broke for January? Definitely not next year. Nope. Nope Nope.
Today is the 1st day that I've been able to extend my diaphragm enough for me to take proper breaths. And Sunday (last night) was my deadline for my assignment. I've worked so damn hard to upskill myself enough to pass, and God I hope I do because honestly, I could not focus while trying to proofread. I took as many naps as I could and hit the submit button just 2 hours before the deadline.
*A good luck charm from @merenludick * ❤️
Well, until this bug has worked its way out of my system, I am afraid I'll be staying right here in my bed, trying very hard to not get worse. I think I may just be on the road to recovery though. Please pray for my soul... and my gastro intestinal tract...
Urgh...
And can you believe I'm still craving trifle?? Of all things!! 😂😂 and no, I'm not pregnant. Lord help me. hahaha.
I think, as soon as I'm up to it, I'm going to make myself a whole carrot cake!