Christmas Melancholy

We wrapped up The Haunting of Bly Manor on Netflix last night; timely, I know. Initially, I liked The Haunting of Hill House better, but now having watched them both fully, I'm torn. I loved the characters in both, but the children in Bly Manor, Flora and Miles, had to be my favorite part of either. When the show ended, I was sitting on the couch in tears. All that loss and heartbreak. The thought of those children, especially sweet Flora, growing up without their parents, just slayed me. 

Sometimes life's cruelties are too much for me. A parent losing their child, an unfair terminal diagnosis, a cat left on the street to fend for itself; these are all things I prefer not to think about, usually because when the thoughts start, they don't stop. I spiral headfirst into feelings of guilt; why do I have a loving family and friends and an overall safety net? I don't deserve any of it.

When these bouts come on, it's best to just lean into them. Brent is used to trying to have a normal conversation while I'm weepy over a car commercial. I should blame hormones; they're always the culprit, right? But it hits harder this time of year. As someone who loves Christmas and all the magic of the season, the holidays always bring a deep feeling of....what? 

I don't know quite what to call it. It's not straight up sadness. It's an anguish that simmers under the surface. I don't know if it has to do with a longing for Christmas as a child, or for a time when things seemed simpler. I don't know if it's heightened by the guilt I feel for having a warm house and the money to celebrate the season. I don't know if this atypical, or if everyone feels this way.

I begged Brent to get a tree this year. We always had one at our old house, but we didn't get one once we moved back to the city. It's not a space thing, since a Christmas tree is "clutter" I'd gladly endure. It's a cat thing; we were sure the cats would destroy the tree when we were at work all day. But now that we're home with them 24/7, we had no reason not to. I found a cheap Home Depot number, resplendent in twinkling lights, and we brought our first fake tree home.

Something about a lit up Christmas tree is the essence of this feeling. I absolutely love it, but there's a sadness there. Even if you get an artificial tree, trees are meant to be living, outdoor things. Yet we chop them down (or mass produce them in factories) to doll them up for our own gratification. 

This isn't a new thing, or brought on by the hell of 2020. The holidays are hard for so many people. Here I go again, feeling bad that I get sad when I don't have the right to be. But I have a lot of feelings and the holidays are an emotional time, so I guess it ads up.