happiness – overthinking things through

It’s that time of year again. The time of year when the human race becomes divided into two groups: those who start listening to Christmas music the day after Halloween… and those who don’t. Can you guess which group I’m in?

Merry Christmas!

As Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree was playing in the car the other day, my boyfriend asked why I had Sirius Holiday Traditions set to the first preset only two days after Halloween. I simply replied, “because Christmas makes me happy!”

And then I started thinking about it, why do I love Christmas so much? Why do I start listening to Christmas music on November 1st? Why does my heart skip a beat when I hear the first Christmas commercial of the season? Why do I go out of my way to walk through Yankee Candle immediately after they put their Christmas scents out? Why do I make a schedule to ensure I have time to watch all the Christmas classics? Why am I obsessed, truly obsessed with Christmas?

According to a study I read on Facebook, people who decorate for Christmas early are much happier, and everything you read on the internet is true! No but really, Christmas is a time where nostalgia tends to take over, and we are reminded of the simpler times. We live in a stressful world filled with a lot of uncertainty. Christmas serves as a positive association for many of us. Once we start feeling stress or anxiety, we cling to our happy associations; Christmas being a strong one. So those of you who knock on us for getting into the Christmas spirit so early, give us a break! There is actually a reason for it.

15894945_1658802351085758_2471272931715245291_n — Gatsby helping me “decorate” at only 10 weeks old!

I have made it no secret that my childhood was very difficult at times. Between having divorced parents, my family being touched by substance abuse and mental illness, suffering from severe anxiety as a child, and the “normal” trials of life – it wasn’t easy being me.

I have always been known to feel things deeply, and the associations to Christmas were ones that I hung onto for dear life. The smells, the sounds, the sights – anything and everything Christmas evokes emotion in me; profound and happy emotion.

No matter what was going on in our family, December was ALWAYS a time of joy. My family, specifically my Nana, always went above and beyond to make sure that Christmas was perfect. Once Thanksgiving was over, my grandparents’ house turned into the North Pole. All year I would long for the constant smell of freshly baked cookies mixed with the Christmas tree I was highly allergic to (so worth the itchy eyes and wheezing). I couldn’t wait to say hi to each of the Santa’s that were displayed throughout the house or to hear Josh Groban and Celine Dion’s Christmas albums on loop. Their basement was like Santa’s workshop. Gifts and wrapping paper and ribbon everywhere! Piles and piles of gifts for every member of our family. I remember my Nana would make me shut my eyes while walking past my pile. I may or may not have tried to peak…

Christmas has also been a special time of year for my family because of our store. For 34 proud years, d.j. crater was THE place in Chatham to shop for holiday gifts. Those who would walk into our store during the holiday season would surely hear Christmas music playing, while being greeted by our family and wonderful staff. My Nana would serve her famous Christmas cookies and we would gift wrap the holiday gifts our customers picked out for loved ones. We were known for our window displays: two “ladies” wearing Christmas tree skirts standing proud on Main Street. Christmas at d.j. crater was something very special, and everyone who was part of our traditions could attest to that. This being the first Christmas season of my life without d.j. crater, it feels like a big piece of the holidays will be missing. Although I will miss Christmas at my happy place, I cherish the 25 years I was able to call that store my home for the holidays.

10351667_1388272408138755_6319623643235772351_n — The “ladies”.

The purpose of this post is not to try and force my hardcore Christmas beliefs on anyone or convince people to listen to Christmas music two months before the holiday actually arrives (although it may increase your serotonin levels!) I don’t plan on locking my loved ones in my house and kidnapping my boss all while trying to salvage a too far gone Christmas dinner…

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving. Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no! We’re all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We’re gonna press on, and we’re gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny f*cking Kaye.”

The purpose of this post is to shed light on why some people, like me, need Christmas. Christmas is a part of who I am. Since I was a little girl, Christmas has served as proof that there can in fact be a time of pure happiness – an escape from the fighting and worries. It may have only been for a short amount of time each year, but during that time I cherished each and every moment.

So when people ask me why I start listening to Christmas music so early, I will smile to myself and think about the memories of our store, the smell of pine trees, the taste of warm Christmas cookies, and my happy family all together… but I will just simply tell them, “because Christmas makes me happy.”

The other day one of my coworkers noticed the collage of pictures next to my computer.

“You look really happy,” he said.

I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Friends and family members have been saying how happy they are for me. A great boyfriend, a beautiful dog, my first real job, a new apartment. It’s true. I am the happiest I have ever been.

But it took me awhile to get here.

Throughout most of my childhood I never really felt comfortable in my own skin. I was a four pound, twelve ounce ball of anxiety straight out of the womb. My parents divorced when I was five and that really affected me. I mean, how could it not? I may have been young, but I knew what was going on. Not much could get past me: all four eyes and three feet of me.

As I got older, the more fearful and insecure I became. Fearful of what people thought of me. Fearful of change. Fearful of trying new things. Fearful of letting people down. Wherever I went, there I was: the same ball of anxiety. I started looking for things (and people) to make me happy. I tried everything, and I mean everything to get out of myself. I just wanted to be numb. I was a people pleasing, insecure, fearful human being who was going down a scary road. I told everyone, “I got this” because I wanted people to think that I was okay. And it worked…

For a while.

Until one cold December morning about four years ago. I woke up to my very worried mother sitting on the edge of my bed. I remember feeling different. I felt defeated. There was a lot that I felt unsure about but the one thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. And my mom assured me that I didn’t have to.

So on that very day it began. My journey of growing into myself.

I became honest – for the first time in my life – about how I felt. I started to actually like myself. I began to look at myself in the mirror, really look at myself, and not feel disappointed. I started to believe in myself, for the first time…ever. I starting connecting to people. I began to develop true relationships. What they say is true: how can I care about others if I don’t care about myself?

At the time of my so called “coming to Jesus moment” I was going to college down in Virginia. I knew that if I was really going to start over, I would have to make a pretty tough decision. I decided to leave my big fratty football school in the south and transfer to a much, much smaller school just eight minutes from my house. Although I was terrified, and sad to leave my friends behind in Virginia, this turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. So back home I came, to my large dysfunctional, loving family. (Little did I know that I would graduate cum laude from my new small school in the forest).

Recently while going through old folders on my computer, I came across the transfer essay I wrote when I was re-applying to schools. The last paragraph reads:

“I will never stop taking risks. Part of life is not only taking risks but also realizing that sometimes a particular risk may not be right for me. I have gained a lot of acceptance and willingness these past couple years, finding my path in life. The most important asset I have acquired is trust in myself. Trust that I will do what is best for myself and not settle for anything that does not bring out my best qualities.”

I hope that my blog helps at least one person to believe in their self. To trust their self. To stop being so scared. I spent so many years scared of EVERYTHING, until one day I just had enough.

I truly believe that God did for me what I could not do for myself on that cold December day four years ago. I was miraculously given the strength and courage to start over.

overthinking things through

Tag: happiness

’tis the season

growing into myself