Never Yield

So I haven’t done a one of these in a while (last one was 2016) but it’s been such a bizarre year I need some kind of outlet to just process it all. 

Having not done one of these in 4 years you might be curious what it is - well during my edgy 20s I had this little space of the internet to just write cringey shit; but it helped me process my emotions. At the end of every year I’d go back through my photos and social media posts and just reflect on everything that had happened. I’m very much a heart on my sleeve person but I’m also not that interesting - just a warning. 

So grab a coffee or a nourishing bovril and have a read if you fancy.

January

January started and ended thankfully like most other January (what’s the plural of January? Januaries? Januarys? Januri...?) I had some time off to finish off what was left of the Christmas holidays. I was in pretty much the same shape as I was when I got my new job in Newcastle, and I was keen to try and lose some weight this year so that I could start doing things for the upcoming wedding like suit fitting that wouldn’t be completely awful.

My main goal was staying active; doing a little exercise each day. If my bike was in working order - cycle to and from work. If it wasn’t then I got the bus and got off in Gateshead so I would have to walk a mile to the office. If I went out for drinks then walk back into Gateshead for a bus or taxi home. Just do something each day to burn some calories. My bike was a total pain, burst innertubes, tires blowing up, brakes disintegrating. I started making a list of the repairs because it was getting out of hand; but the nights were getting a little brighter and the air a little less chilly. The commute to work was nice, the scenery and fresh air gave a great start to every morning - even if I was caked in dust or soaked through. 

February

February was just as good as January if not better. Lou and I checked out some wedding venues, I started going for long cycles at the weekend and I started seeing a lot more of the North East by bike. I remember taking my first trip up Keelman’s way all the way to Wylam, crossing the Tyne and going all the way back to cross over at the baltic in Newcastle. It was the single longest journey I’d done by pedal bike since I was a teenager, and that made me very proud of myself. 

Work continued to go well - I felt like I was starting to make actual friends in the office, felt like I was making jokes as well as being part of them, and I was still remembering to catch up with some of my old friends in Sunderland. I was even losing weight, at the end of February I was the lightest I had been in years and I was starting to feel it in myself - things were just going well. 

3 things happened in February I that wasn’t great. The first was that after a bought of snow Lou fell and hurt her knee, injuring a ligament meant she had to take some time off work, and had to walk with the aid of some crutches. 

The second was that I fell out with some of my close friends; it had been happening more and more frequently but it just seemed like all that happened was we’d start debates for no reason, disagree with each-other none stop. I relied so heavily on my friends as my emotional support network that I realised I could barely get through a day without giving them a play by play of what was going on in my life. Which in turn led to more arguments, further my constant blabbering and need for validation just gave them artillery to bait me when we disagreed with each other and for them to know how to upset me. I’d been tense with them for months since they made their feelings about my relationship clear and I decided my reliance on them wasn’t healthy, in turn I had the feeling they were sick of being relied on. I retreated a little and tried to unlearn my dependence on them and function on my own - dealing with my feelings without just being that friend who bleeds their heart out when they get asked how they are. It was tough but ultimately necessary as my behaviour was becoming, if not already, toxic. 

The third and final thing that wasn’t great in February was that we started hearing a lot more news story about this virus thing coming out of Wuhan in China. 

March

Well funnily enough it all kicked off with a virus - but not that one. No I somehow managed to start March with a virus that had not only had a vaccine - but I also had been vaccinated against. I got mumps. I spent the first week of March practically bed ridden, as my neck swelled up and I got an insane fever. I spent my days watching Star Trek and spent my nights sweating my box off, kicking Lou and telling her to stop transporting body parts into my side of the bed. It was wild.

My fever broke some time around the 10th - at which point our company made the executive decision to start working from home. Apparently there was a big virus on the horizon and they thought just for a month or two they’d play it safe.

Thankfully the company I work for have their head on this side of the century, unlike the last 2 places I worked - and setting up working from home was as easy as installing a VPN client. Everything cloud based I got to work right away. Set up my desk with a few more business things like a notepad and some pens and it was like there was no difference. 

Except everything was different - The people I saw every day sort of changed, not the people but the way I saw them. Couldn’t hang out in the kitchen and talk shit with Ron. John couldn’t come over to my desk and ask if I finished the Witcher (I still haven’t).

We all had to adjust to social interaction just being different. I did the usual things other people did. Joined a few Zoom pub quizzes - played a fuck tonne of video games and started brewing alcohol in an attempt to pass time a bit better. 

Things were new and weird, and I found it kind of exciting even though it was totally insane. I took what time I could to still go out and cycle, usually on my lunch breaks but it was cold outside and I couldn’t quite be bothered - I needed to settle into the new norm of just being in the house constantly. 

Rare bonus picture, me with mumps (and don’t say you can’t tell the difference)

April

April was spent largely indoors (get used to that one) I spent most of my days working and I spent most of my free time either cycling, watching a movie or drinking. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing to do when you weren’t working. I remember Gateshead council issuing a plea for people to remember to control their drinking and they were right to do so. What was there to do? Lou and I filled up a jam jar with movies that we’d each wanted to always see and by the end of April we’d seen a lot of new stuff - but it was becoming old. Everything was getting old fast. My fascination with the pandemic had quickly turned into boredom with it. I remember one of my pub quiz buddies saying they missed “Precedented times” and that one has stayed with me all year. 

My biggest regret of this month was that on Lou’s birthday she couldn’t see her family or do what she wanted. I tried to make the day special for her and give her the love and attention I could - but there is no replacement for getting a hug off your family. It all started to hit home and there still wasn’t an end in sight. 

I started to savour leaving the house. Going for a ride on a lunch time or at the weekend. Getting fresh air and enjoying the scenery without cars or other pedestrians to get in the way. At one point Lou and I needed to get tested to ensure she was safe to work and we could only get tested in Penrith - which while a massive distance away was great to just leave the house and see the Pennines again. Even if it was the only time this year.

May

In May the summer came a little early. Things were hot and being outdoors was so tantalising. I started taking longer bike rides, pushing myself out further. In one day I managed to cycle 20 miles before my pedal snapped off, and even then I walked home. The last 2 months of drinking meant that I wasn’t really losing weight anymore - but it felt so good to just be in the sunshine.

In a quest to do things I’d started streaming games on Twitch, and so had my sister. We got into quite a routine playing games together. Then afterwards we’d each edit our gameplay footage and upload it to YouTube. I absolutely loved editing content for videos. I hadn’t done it in so long and I was keen to try and make it worthwhile. I still suck at it but it was refreshing to do new things.

May ended with quite a shitty ending though. My dad had been in hospital for around 2 weeks - which during a pandemic is never good. I got a call saying he was being released and I was happy with that. I collected some food and some supplies for him which I planned to drop off at his door for him, but on the way over his I got a call from a social worker asking if I could set up a telephone interview with the community stroke team. I asked why and they told me it was because my dad had suffered another stroke. 

To be clear - I knew he was in hospital; but he’s been in and out for years now. The prolific alcoholic that he is - his body has been slowly decaying and shutting down for a while. He has kidney and liver problems, his heart is starting to go. He regularly gets infections and when he went into hospital I did the usual thing; ring up and ask how he is, if he needs anything - whatever. At no point did anybody tell me that he had another stroke. The poor woman who let me know so she could arrange his outpatient care had no idea I didn’t know. I was furious. No accountability from the hospital, or social services. I felt so sorry for him to have to go through this again, I suddenly had no idea what to expect when I got to his house! I felt like I couldn’t even blame the hospital because the staff there were risking their lives dealing with a pandemic, and yes it probably did slip some poor nurses mind to ring me up and tell me, but holy fuck I wanted to burn the place down. 

My dad wasn’t great, what use he had in his arms was more or less gone. His speech was totally ruined, he needed help standing. The hospital had sent him home with the aid of 3 care visits a day and it just was not enough. Before the end of May he was back in hospital. What’s worse is that with the pandemic - I couldn’t visit him. No books or crosswords, no catch-ups over coffee. Hospital was one of the places I’d speak to my dad fully detoxed - and now he had been sober for months and couldn’t speak a word. 

June

With my dad suffering but frankly in the right place for it - all there was to do was continue on as we had. Check up on him when I could. He had been moved from a hospital to a rehabilitation centre, and for the time being he was being looked after. 

I still cycled - I went on my most daring adventure yet in June; I saw my mum. For the first time in months I cycled from my house in Gateshead all the way up the Northumberland Coast to Blythe. Sat in her yard and just talked with her. It was something so basic but so lovely to see her. It was emotional - and the journey was well worth it. 41 miles in one day, the best I have accomplished all year. 

Louise and endeavoured to try and do things for our mental health as well as physical, and we started looking at activities we could do safely without putting anybody else at risk. We took drives, and arranged special date nights for each other. The fun of quarantine had passed, and the boredom and despair was starting to pass too. I felt like June we were starting to normalise and see the path we were going to be on for the next few months. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be all doom and gloom.

July

Doom and gloom hit like a tonne of bricks in the hot July air. My dad with his health still not improving was being shipped out of his respite centre and into an actual care home. His social worker was far from helpful and just wanted beds freed up and people moved around. I hadn’t spoken to my dad in 2 months and I had no clue what he wanted to do or how he wanted to proceed. Any time I spoke to him was heart-breaking. He clearly wanted to say something to me but he just couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. He’d speak and get distracted, or he’d slur and try again on the same word until he forgot what he was trying to say. Without being with him it was just an impossible decision and people were pressuring me to do it. Lou was my rock through all this, putting up with my stressing out - being pragmatic. She spent an afternoon going through a list of all the care homes in Sunderland and ruling out any of the shitty ones, then when we had a short list rang them up to ask them about facilities. We narrowed it down to a handful of places and we were going to run them by my dad to see where he wanted to be. 

Sometimes a day can shift the perspective on an entire year. One day my mum called me during my morning dev stand-up. I rang her back after and she told me my nan had taken ill. She was going to the airport to fly out to Spain and be with her. It was serious. 

I knew my mum would be panicking, and I wanted to see her, so I said I’d drive over at lunch time and take them to the airport, one less thing to worry about. When I arrived at my mums however, my nan had passed away. I’m glad in a way that I decided to drive my mum - it meant I could give her a hug (and she could hug me). Losing my nan had tore her heart and I felt so utterly helpless. Funerals in Spain are a quick turnaround - usually a day or two. So my mums flight had gone from going out to see my nan to saying goodbye. 

After we left the airport Lou looked up flights, we found one for me and I booked it without a second thought. By 11pm that night I was in Spain, compassionate leave from work for a few days and just being there for my family. Hugs, tears, drinks, cackles the works. We tried our best to prolong the funeral but within 2 days she was cremated. 

My nan was a wild person, and anybody who met her will tell you that. So many stories and wild fairy-tale of a woman who was so down to earth - yet so extraordinary. Part of me is thankful that she left this earth without suffering, trapped in her own body like my dad - and another is just so sad that she couldn’t stay and share her character with the world some more, more of her stories, more of her jokes, her laugh, conspiracy theories and her scathing looks. More of her kindness. We have to say goodbye to people all the time, but this one was hard, and it still hurts, I imagine it will do for some time. 

I managed to book a flight home after a long weekend in Spain and returned to work - the social worker dealing with my dad was becoming impatient and was threatening to just “make a decision” for us. With nobody else picking up the reigns while I was in Spain Lou managed to make the final arrangements. She found a home, highly rated, not too far from my dads siblings and within driving distance for us. We spoke to the home over the phone (me from Spain) and we decided where my Dad would go. Temporarily, but all the same my dad was going into a home. 

A home is something that had always worried me with my dad - mainly for the fear he would never come out; and knew that he would think that too. He would hate it and it would mean an end to his independence. This would mean more guilt for me as I’d feel like I need to spend more time with him to make him feel less isolated; then again it is something we all agreed he would eventually need. I had mixed feelings, but there it is.

August

The country opened up a little. Things got back towards normal. I even went for a cheeky drink in Newcastle with some friends. I celebrated the end of my first year at my new job. 

In august we unfortunately lost another dear friend. When I was very young (under 10) we had a cat Smudge; and Smudge had kittens. She had a few litters over the years and we always gave the kittens away to good homes. I loved being a kid and having a house full of kittens, watching them grow fur and open their eyes for the first time, little meows at the big wide world. One of the kittens Smudge had was named Phoebe, and Phoebe was the first cat who ever fell asleep on me. I know that’s a weird thing to remember, but I was only 9 at the time, I was too young to hold cats and they generally stayed away from me, but that little grey thing climbed up on me while I lay on the couch and just fell asleep on my chest. Phoebe was my favourite kitten, and I remember the day she went off to her forever home I cried. Thankfully she went to live with one of my mums work friends; who stayed and is still a very much loved part of our lives. Every now and again I’d see Phoebe, the proud house cat she was, and am pleased to tell you that she lived to a ripe old age of 20, before finally going to sleep. It’s so strange the effect pets have on you considering they can’t speak but love is love, and she was such a character that even though she hadn’t lived with me for 20 years it still broke my heart; but I’m so grateful that she got to live her life so full of love and affection.

I’d been feeling pretty flat since the events of last month and my cycling had taken a bit of a hit. To combat that I was invited by family friends to go on an early morning cycle with them and my mums partner. Waking up early and going out being social on a bike was a nice change from my usual solitary, and I enjoyed it a lot. Maybe when the lockdown ends it’s something I could do more of, although they’re the only people I know who cycle really.  

Lou and I started taking more regular walks, to the beach mostly but just trying to combat couch potato syndrome, and pretty much failing, but there were some lovely walks, and our dog Jac enjoyed it too. 

Getting out of the house was important, but I still felt like I wanted more from it. Fresh air and exercise is great but I’d become so used to the north east that it started to bore me, even though I was doing something that wasn’t sitting in the house. 

I wanted to start going places and exploring. I’d found so many new roads and places that were so close to home by just going out on my bike and I wanted to start doing that with everything. I wanted to take hikes along mountains and beaches, I wanted to cycling along the rivers to their starts, I wanted to just go, and be and explore; but I felt so confined in my surroundings, like even if I did get out there and do the things I wanted to it’d be crap or I’d just be as bored as I was at home. Or how would I ever afford it, and I only get 2 days a week to myself that isn’t consumed by work and how is that life?

It’s difficult to explain; it’s like I had so much drive and energy to do things, but didn’t have a clue what to do, and even if I knew what to do I couldn’t do it, because we were still under lockdown measures and because I really had nobody to do it with; for all she enjoyed walks along the beach Lou isn’t a hiker. For all they enjoyed the bike ride, the guys had family obligation and couldn’t take a few days out for a cycling holiday, not really sure they’d want to with me. 

Part of me was even telling myself it was pointless; because I’d been trying to be healthier all year, cycling and walks had pretty much resulted in nothing except for a slightly better lung capacity. Granted lockdown meant I wasn’t commuting and there wasn’t anything to do but sit, eat and drink - but it just seemed like there was never any payoff and it just wasn’t worth it. 

I started to get those lovely old existentialism feelings; that nothing I ever do is worth anything or ever going to change how I look or feel. That I’m just trapped never fully happy or content with my lot.

To end on a high note however - at the end of August I celebrated my 4 year anniversary with Lou. We decided to head out in the car in any direction and wound up in Scotland, which was a lovely change. We had a little picnic and saw some mountains, we even managed to sneak in a little BBQ at her parents house - which was a lovely end to what had been a pretty difficult month. 

September

Probably the closest thing to normal this year. The office decided that lockdown was done with and that we could actually go back, on a week-in week-out basis. While I was only in the office for a grand total of 6 days before going back into lockdown - it was lovely to see the people I worked with again. To actually be able to talk with people, and go for lunch with them. I’d needed that human contact, especially since I hadn’t spoke to my close friends for half a year. 

When it was announced that lockdown 2 was coming I was dejected but not surprised. I got to take a last walk around the Newcastle quayside before cycling home and never coming back for the rest of this year. 

The lockdown was coming into effect on my birthday, and as a result my plans to meet family for food were a little side-lined, however they did surprise me. Before lockdown kicked back in Lou convinced me to go on a date night and as it turned out we arrived and met my sister and mother and their partners, and we had a big family meal. Then on my actual birthday we had a big zoom call and played party games together. It was different but it was so lovely to spend time with them.

I did also speak a little with the friends who I’d been avoiding. One of them was getting married and wanted to have a small get together by way of a stag do and had invited me along. I was so torn up by this because I hadn’t spoken with or seen them in 6+ months, and was completely out of comfort by going to their house, and also felt insanely guilty for not immediately being okay with it. Having been my friend since primary school it was an obvious choice in the end and I did go, and I did have a nice time and they were pleased that I’d been. Normally that would have probably been the end of my stonewalling but something still felt off. Especially when one of them tried the whole “I’m going to be the bigger person by just moving forward” which doesn’t really fly, you can’t really say, “I know I’ve wronged you but I’ve decided to move on therefore you’re the bad guy here for refusing to do the same and dwelling on it”. It just made me feel a bit more sour and not necessary on a night that was supposed to be for our friend who was getting married. The important thing is that they had a good time.

I also took advantage of the last of the good weather for the year and went on a along cycle around the whole of Tyne & Wear, going all the way south from my house to the banks of the Wear, following the river to the sea and then following the sea up til I hit the Tyne, then following that back towards home. On this journey I even got to see my friend, at a good social distance of the entire river. I sat on one side of the wear and he stood on his flat balcony on the other side and we waved at each other. I remember being absolute shattered that night, but Lou wanted to build a blanket fort and watch Harry Potter. So with my legs completely wrecked from a 30-odd mile cycle, constructed a crude fort in the living room where we lay on the air bed and ordered pizza. The whole thing was probably my favourite memory from this whole year. 

October

End of the good weather, the dark nights started drawing in and things became pretty stagnant. I spent my days working and the nights trying to fill the void with things to keep me busy. 

I mentioned earlier in the year how I had come to enjoy editing videos; but that had taken quite the back seat since I wasn’t really a great fan of twitch streaming. I did it on the occasion; and I had completed a few games end to end that had been on my to-play list; but ultimately it wasn’t for me. My sister on the other had was starting to get a steady footing on Twitch and probably my favourite time of week was a Friday night when she was play some outlandish and terrible horror game, then follow it up with some party games. She’d even gotten a few people from around the globe to join in and play games with us - and it was about the closest thing I got to playing games with friends. I offered to start editing the gameplays for Sonia into YouTube highlights, working as a nice time waster and it was genuinely enjoyable to be editing content that wasn’t of my cringey mug. So I became Sonia’s editor - and I’ve been enjoying that (shameless plug here) 

Unfortunately October took from us another family member. My tante Corrie from Holland sadly passed away. Unlike with my Nan we couldn’t rally round as lockdown restrictions were increasing and the most we could do was send our condolences and watch a livestream of the funeral. Which was unfortunately entirely in Dutch and I didn’t catch a word. Corrie was always the one who kept in touch with us, she would send us postcards and letters, she would always organise large family reunions and I remember every time I met her that she was just warm caring person. I wish I knew her better.

November

Probably the toughest month of the year but it actually started out pretty good. We had been booked to go to Spain to watch dogs for my auntie Sas while she was in Lisbon - but everything was being cancelled left right and centre. While my flights are still up in the air we decided to book last minute into a cottage a little ways down the Yorkshire east coast. We had a week long stay in a converted barn, just Lou and I, Sonia and Coxy and the dogs; plenty of food and drink. I took 2 weeks off work and since we were only away for 1 it meant after the holiday I got to take a staycation. So that was pretty nice. During the holiday though England went officially into Lockdown 2; meaning there wasn’t much we could do of anything while when we got home. 

During this woeful month we lost another member of the family; this time it was my nan’s brother Andrew, an interesting character to say the least Andrew was the youngest of my Nan’s siblings and had lived his whole life with Down’s Syndrome. He had lived to a good age and had been well looked after in his later years - again another family member I wasn’t overly close to but the family was feeling the losses this year, I wished there was more I could have done for my mum who was losing people and not being able to see anybody or be with us; it’s just been awful.

During this lovely extended lockdown period was my Dad’s 60th birthday! While normally a good celebration, the lockdown meant we couldn’t actually visit him in the care home which was devastating; on top of that when we went to deliver his cards and presents we found he’d actually been admitted to hospital and was covid positive (just the thing you want for your birthday). 

While that was frustrating; he actually turned out to be asymptomatic, which meant he didn’t exhibit any of the nastier symptoms of the disease. His breathing, fever and general wellbeing were all okay, at worst he was a little bit dehydrated. Small victories. 

A day or two after his return from hospital I got a strange call from his rent officer who was asking when he was due to end his tenancy - a little confused I asked why and it turns out my dad had agreed to go into permanent full time residency at the care home; and that following that decision nobody decided to tell his family - I guess expecting that he would do all the leg work while in a care home? His social workers, care home staff, doctors all really fucked me on that one; and thank fuck I had good communication with his rent office or I probably never would have found out. 

He became a full care resident towards the end of November and we had to band together and help clear out his house. He’d accumulated quite the wealth of crap during his 60 years. Some of it we kept and distributed amongst ourselves, other stuff we had to throw into the skip, or take to the local tip. The man didn’t seem to have thrown out any letters since 1999 so I had the joy of sorting through all of those and ritualistically burning them in my chimenea.

The process moved quickly, we hired a van, a skip, organised when we were doing everything and ran like clockwork. It was emotional but thankfully being busy meant burying my emotions and dealing with them after it was done. Within a weekend his entire life’s belongings had been reduced to the contents of a skip and a few bags of clothes in the boot of my car. One of the worst things about it was that I still couldn’t speak to him; he’d been in isolation since his birthday and the bastard doesn’t own a mobile phone so I couldn’t even ask him if there was anything specifically he wanted keeping. 

It wasn’t all doom and gloom through; here’s one good thing came out of that weekend - and that is that the van we rented. The north east was practically out of vans - a lot were on long term hire as people have been using them during the lockdown to do deliveries of pretty much anything. I only managed to get van from a company in Newcastle who had a Luton van left. After ringing up nearly every company I could find I took it and ran with it. Later when I spoke to the guy about the van as I needed the number plate he asked what I needed it for and I gave him the story. He said he would ring around a few people who still had standard Transit’s and see if they could return them early. He called me back in 30 minutes to say somebody had agreed and that he had a smaller van for me - one that would be much better suited. I know it’s basic customer service, but in a time when I was absolutely stressing my tits off, that simple act was so appreciated and so glorious that I just want to include it here: if you need a van in Newcastle - get one from Abco - then on the actual day in our lovely Transit van we found that the person who returned it to us early had left their purse in the door! Thinking that we’d gotten some good fortune we decided to pass it along, and after we were done at my dads Lou and I got in the car and dropped the purse off in person, and in doing so got to meet the very grateful lady and her Rottweiler George who was just the cutest.

After the horrific weekend at my dads - Lou and I put up the Christmas tree and tried to focus on the coming month.

December

Here we come to the final month in this saga. December is normally a time of stress and guilty feelings but if you follow my life you may remember that last year I took Christmas off - this year I felt like I’d not only missed out on Christmas last year, but had barely seen any of my family for the entire year since! Lou and I devised a way of getting presents for everybody. The slight promotion at work combined with not going out for months meant money wouldn’t be a problem and on top of that I’d been keeping lists of what to get people. I was sorted for Christmas well before the deadlines hit; if it wasn’t for the stress with my dad in the month previous things would have probably been the smoothest it had been. 

The work year ended well - while at the start of the year I was a little concerned my job would struggle in this years climate, but after a shaky start things went from strength to strength. Work came in gradually and I really hit my stride towards the end of the year. I even started getting good feedback from not only my line managers but clients I’ve been working with as well - something sorely missing from previous jobs. It felt good to be validated at work, and feel useful this year; in the middle somewhere too I got told I’d be moving onto the newer job scale which came with a nice little pay rise. At the end of the year I was asked if I could cover the emergency support on a contract I’d been particularly involved in, and it meant a lot to feel that responsibility finally. After the job switch last year I was always worried I’d moved somewhere not as secure; but it felt so good after such an arduous year to feel valued, and vindicated. 

We spent the Christmas day at my mums, there was far more laughter in those hours than I can remember from the majority of the year. Lou and I cooked the most of the food while my mum took over the meats. It’s the first time I’ve cooked for the family since 2012. While the day was long and there was a little tension - as their always is with family get togethers - it was just such a nice day, and one we all sorely needed. 

After Christmas there was plenty of leftovers, plenty of eating and sleeping in. Thankfully I got to see my dad at his care home briefly to give him some presents and make sure he was okay. His general condition has improved but he’s still not 100%. It was just nice to sit with him for a little while. 

Now as we sit in the final 48 hours I can finally sit back, enjoy my spicy mead and reflect on this very long year. 

Previous Years

2019

2018

2017

2016

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

Christmas is a funny one for me. When I was a kid it was magic, structured, happy. My sister and I would wake up and go into the living room before mum and dad were awake, see the presents under the tree, our stockings full and something from Santa, a letter or a nibbled carrot - half drank glass of milk.  We’d take our stockings upstairs to our parents and sit on the bed, slowly tipping the contents out til they were empty. Then we’d all go downstairs - somebody would pop the kettle on while me and my sister tore endless reams of paper. 

Then after presents we would play with our new toys; get washed and ready and head up to my grandparents, where we’d meet my auntie, uncle and cousins and get even more presents. 

Back home for Christmas dinner then finish off the day loafing about, either catch a movie or enjoy the days spoils. 

A few things never occurred to me during this time, the main one of which was how much energy my parents put into it. I’ve spoke with Lou about it a lot since but I was very lucky growing up to have 2 parents who were very loving, caring and involved people - and Christmas is probably the best evidence for that. Both of them (not gonna lie, mainly my mam) worked their socks off to make that day as magical for me and my sister as they could - and they pulled it off time after time. 

As time went on, this became harder to achieve. I think mostly because we were growing up and slowly becoming more aware of the world around us. We noticed money becoming harder to come by at Christmas time. More tension in the house, I started to notice how often my mum would cry if Christmas dinner didn’t go to plan - I noticed how much my dad drank. My grandmother sadly passed away and as a result my grandfather slowly began to lose himself to dementia. The things I grew to love about Christmas either weren’t there - or were starting to show an ugly side. 

I couldn’t tell you which was the first Christmas I didn’t enjoy - but at some point I started to resent it more than I enjoyed it. Everything became so much more taxing, I had to plan my money when I had no income, because I had to buy everybody presents. I had to keep people updated with what I wanted because they were doing the same. In later years I had to plan logistically where I was going to be weeks in advance because we had to cater for people, make sure nobody was being left out and made sure everybody was doing Christmas.

The mystery and magic had been replaced with strategy and meticulous planning - because if it didn’t go right; somebody was going to be crying in the kitchen over a burnt tray of roast potatoes.Or there’s going to be an argument about who said what or who hasn’t done what.

Last year for me was my absolute worst Christmas. It was my 3rd with Lou and we were hosting her family for Christmas dinner. We were spending Christmas eve at my mum’s so that I could wake up and see her on Christmas Day - along with my sister and her partner, exchange gifts, haul ass back home, exchange more gifts - cook - get everybody back to their respective homes after dinner and then enjoy what was left of the day.

I spent the 3 months beforehand struggling to buy presents, and I mean struggling. At first I’d sit and try to spitball ideas, then try to flesh those ideas out into either products or DIY projects. Those ideas barely got put to paper, I spent 3 months torturing myself that the people I held closest in my life I couldn’t buy for because I simply did not know them well enough anymore to buy presents for them. I had ideas sure but I couldn’t be sure that they’d actually be enjoyed, I’ve seen far too many times the look on somebodies face when they open something they’re confused about, or unsure of or simply just have disdain for - and it crushes me every time. Despite not knowing them well enough to know what material goods they like, I know their faces well enough to know when they’re pretending - and for all they’ll tell me year after year that I always do well - i know I’ve dropped some proper horrific presents, and year after year they pull that same face and say oh wooow thanks. How can I be so sure? Because I’m certain I’ve done the same fucking thing back to them.

Combined with how unhappy I was at work at the time, the running costs of Christmas and the fact that every year it starts earlier and earlier - I was stressed out of my box. It was horrific - every time I heard the shitey opening bars of Last Christmas or Mariah Carey wailing the start of that cat shredding hit I could feel my patience just chipping away. 

What’s worse is that you’re not allowed to be annoyed at Christmas - might as well be fucking illegal. If I tried to talk to people about it, shut down; this isn’t the time for this - this is a time for being merry and goodwill to all mankind and what size shirt are you now you fat cunt I need to buy you some more guilt rags to hang in your wardrobe. 

As you may guess from these emotionally charged paragraphs - I struggled. Mentally, inter-personally, I honestly struggled. I was nigh suicidal and seeking help from my GP, which hasn’t been me for many years. Having had to deal with me every day Lou was struggling to cope - every little thing would set me off, I needed space but she was there every day, we had to see people every day. No respite, no break, just keep working, keep buying, keep smiling til you explode at everybody around you and drop dead. 

So this year, to save me from tears, I sacked the whole fucking thing off. 

I told my family I would spend some time with them, but not on Christmas day - not even on Boxing Day. Lou and I looked for a remote cabin, somewhere pretty - maybe somewhere we’ll see some snow - with a log burner, and we’re leaving town. 

I also told my family I wasn’t buying them anything, and they should under no circumstances buy me anything. I don’t need anything, I don’t want anything. The planet is on fire - we don’t need more pointless tack in a landfill.Buying me gifts would make me feel more guilt - make me beholden to them, and I don’t need gifts to feel loved by them - I always feel that. So Strict orders, no gifts and no me on Christmas day. 

This didn’t go down too well - my sister told me I was being too emotional and should try a little at least, and while I understood where she was coming from I think she missed the point of me needing to do it for my own mental health. My mum was more understanding and was relieved i Was doing something more positive for my mental health, but like the proverbial shit gift I could tell under the surface she seemed unimpressed. 

The real hero of the story has been Lou - who has sacrificed one of her most treasured times of year to abstain from Christmas with me, and I am thankful to her for it. 

So there you are, the Christmas that stole Joe - and how this year I plan to do none of it. My hope is that I’ll really hate doing it this way, come back to it next year invigorated with a zest for seasonal merriment, but to be honest with you; I’m going away, I haven’t skinted myself and I’ve actually really enjoyed just taking a low key approach this year without any stress - and that for me is it’s own little Christmas miracle.

I know I am being selfish, and I’ve ruined the normal Christmas for a lot of people, but I needed this, who’s to say what happens next year - the good news is that this time I’m not dreading this year.