I started writing yesterday and really struggled. I was struggling because yesterday wasn't bad. There was still an underlying sense of dread, but overall, I was OK.
The end of last year was really difficult. My youngest daughter is struggling with her mental health, and that has put stress and strain on the whole family. The lead-up to Christmas was the worst. Not because there were any major issues, arguments, or anything like that, but because there was this unspoken anxiety that Christmas would be terrible. Christmas has always been a time when we all spent time together and enjoyed each other's company. We are a very small family and don't generally spend too much time with anyone else. This makes the idea of being together even more important. In recent months, being together has been a rare occurrence. We tried a family holiday in the summer, which lasted less than 24 hours.
The thought of a Christmas of isolation was too much to bear. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Christmas was good. No arguments, and we all spent time together. It felt like it used to. We laughed. It is amazing how the simple act of a family being together can bring such relief. If it hadn't gone that way, I don't know how I would be feeling now in the new year. How would I answer the question, "Hey, how was your Christmas?" that everyone I see asks in the first weeks of January? I'm not sure I could have held it together. But I didn't have to. It was good.
It is all so fragile, isn't it? One wrong word, and it could have all come tumbling down around us. The anxiety of every minute, hoping, praying that no one would upset each other, was almost unbearable. I look at that situation in a couple of ways: first, it was good, and I can use that as a positive step forward to help my recovery, but also as a reminder that I have to keep working and be prepared for the bad times. I hope Christmas is a sign of things to come, but I will try to be ready in case it isn't.
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