Hoping for a happier Christmas Day...

As I have mentioned previously, Christmas is a difficult time of year for me but hey ho, it is almost here again. I try and keep all the traditions as that means a lot to my family. If I was on my own I would not bother at all as I have no religion. So it holds no importance for me.

Christmas Day is often spent with my dad only as my husband often goes to visit family abroad and that is happening this year too. The first Christmas after my Mum died, my husband stayed here as he knew I would really struggle but the following year saw him off on his travels once again. That left me and my dad alone together....not a good combination.

He wanted to sit at the table and eat his lunch and I just could not face sitting there with him so I suggested we sat in the lounge watching TV. Well, I could never have guessed how that would pan out, it was truly shocking. Although, once again my therapists would have probably questioned my hope that it would be a positive experience. I dread to think what will become of me if or when my hope fades. My hope is definitely what keeps me going. It always has.

Anyway, I served his food and took it through to him. I noticed he had a really gruesome true crime program on but (here it is again), I hoped he would change the channel when I actually came to sit there. He is not deaf but he has the TV on so loud, I am surprised the neighbours do not complain. I got my food and went to sit down.

[You need to know some background here. My Mum's death was caused by an horrific accidental fall down our stairs that my husband and I witnessed. It took about two years for me to stop having flashbacks which would bring me to my knees and now I only have flashback images when I think about it. To see my Mum, who I loved with my whole being, somersault down those stairs like a rag doll was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, as you can imagine.]

The true crime documentary related to an husband who had maliciously pushed his wife down the stairs and killed her. I could not believe my ears. Surely he would not continue to watch this awful program while we ate. You know what I am going to say. Of course he watched it. But I could not sit there while it was on. I felt sick to my stomach and could not even think about putting any food in my mouth as I was sure it would come straight back out with a vengeance. I was repulsed. My reactions were visceral. The tears flowed from my eyes, and I wanted to vomit.

I had been trying my best to make it a 'nice' Christmas for him but there was no give on his side. I had tried so hard but I should know by now that I can never do the right thing by him. I took as deep a breath as I could and in a very hesitant, squeaky, nervous voice asked him to please change the channel. He ignored me the first three times I asked as he was so engrossed in his TV and gorging down his food. I asked a fourth time, a bit louder. He looked at me as if to say ' what is your problem? Why are you disturbing my program?' I do not even think he had the slightest inkling as to why I was so uneasy about the subject matter. I felt like either shutting up or shouting at the top of my voice at him.

I repeatedly asked him to change the channel. He got angry with his twisted mouth and eyes full of rage and asked me what channel he must change it to. I had no idea. All I wanted him to do was get it off that channel immediately. The detective was now reading out the post mortem. It could have had my Mum's name at the top. Hers must have had very similar information, apart from the major exception that her death was definitely not a vengeful killing. It was a terribly sad accident.

The sick was in my mouth by now. I had put my food to one side as I could not bear to even look at it. He got frustrated with me as I could not answer his aggressive questioning about which flipping channel I wanted. Aaaaargh! I could not speak. I was a trembling, weeping nervous wreck. He finally changed it to an old comedy channel. I sat there shaking for a few minutes and then managed to get up and walk out. It was all too much for me and I needed to get away from him.

Fortunately I was having personal therapy at the time and when I next saw my therapist, even she was horrified at the depths of his lack of empathy. That surprised me, I thought she would once again, raise her eyebrows and ask me why I would even think he would be any different.

This blog post has been really difficult for me to write as it has brought so much stuff back to the forefront of my conscious. But it has weighed me down for far too long, I am determined to let it go. And now is as a good a time as any.

This Christmas should be different as we have family coming to join us. At least they can act as a buffer between me and him for a few hours. I am so grateful for that.