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Writer's pictureBea Biechowiak

Merry, Merry… yet another festive season over…

No Christmas tree this time. It might sound sad for many people, and it is, but I am so done decorating the house just for myself.

Christmas was never a nice time for me. When I was a kid, it was all very different. It wasn’t so commercial and the whole point of making it special was to gather together. All families sitting around the table. Relatives coming from all over the country and abroad. It was a time of good food and forgiveness. It was a family time, when grudges were forgotten and everyone was, or at least tried to be happy. Even in my house was like that… until the first vodka bottle dried out. From then on, all I wanted was to just get out of there and hide, disappear… Every year the same.

I used to watch Christmas movies and occasionally, I had an opportunity to visit other people. The atmosphere was so very different. It was a pleasant shock to discover that Christmas can be nice not only on telly. Even if those people were just pretending to be so great, it worked for me (when I was older, I realised that they were not pretending and nice families are real). To me, it wasn’t even about presents. It was all about being nice to each other, and happy for just one day in a year… Just a wish though.

When I moved to England, and had finally my own home and proper family (or so I thought), it was great, for about three years. Then everything changed. My (then) husband ruled the Christmas period on his own. Oh, he loved it! All house was full of decorations and carols were playing all day. And it would be really fantastic, if not the fact that he was a master-hoarder. Something the I discovered after I arrived to my new home. Bulks of second hand stuff and collections of magazines were everywhere. Even stairways were half way blocked. When we decorated those piles with fancy Christmas stuff, there was no space to move around. My son, which was about 3-4 years old at the time, was a hyperactive child and he wondered everywhere. It was an enormous task to keep him safe in that environment. I didn’t think that that was right, but I was thought that he is the man of the house, and if he says that it stays – so be it. In my head, the message was clear. I ended up in the same crap that I escaped from.

I need to mention that my husband was almost 20 years my senior and since my parent very effectively got to my head that I am not allowed to talk back to elderly, I just didn’t have guts to protest or disagree with anything what was suggested. He loved to buy expensive presents and let the kids unpack them, but just after Christmas, those present were taken away and put in the “safe place”, so they din’t get broken. I was devastated, but too tired to react. I was the only person working in the house. My husband was disabled and he stayed at home. I had very long hours. Despite being somewhat happy that I had a job, I was overworked and exhausted all the time. My life was passing by and I lost the track of time. To the degree that when I finally got divorced and was able to think straight, I realised that I just can’t remember the last 10 years of my life. It was like the period from the moment I arrived to UK until my divorce was a blank. It was weird. I didn’t bother about it much, as I didn’t really want to remember. Yet later my kids started bringing up some stuff that brought part of this period back to my head, and I was overwhelmed with it. It became clear to me that I was not aware what was happening in the house while I was working. I didn’t notice my children’s mood… I felt like I failed as mother, as a woman, as a person… as a human!!!! I was nothing! I had a sudden onset of severe depression. I couldn’t believe that all I wished to provide for my kids never happened. Instead of stability and happiness, I served them a decade of tyranny  and exactly the same shit that I escaped from. It was beyond me.

I had a strong, suicidal thoughts. I just wanted to finish it all. Thankfully, I had an image of my kids protruding forward, and I knew that I had to put myself together and fight. If it wasn’t for my kids, I wouldn’t be here today. That’s for sure.

Still, many Christmases have passed since then. I love and have Christmases. On one hand – they bring up all the bad memories; on the other hand, I still hope that I will one day manage to organise hat one perfect Christmas. with all the family and friends celebrating together, sitting at one table, listening to Christmas Carols and laughing and singing ALL THE TIME. Without any bad moments, without “drunken disorder”… Just one little wish.

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