Home from the "Hell-i-days"

Tolstoy sure hit the nail on the head when he wrote "...every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." And at no time is the unhappy family more unhappy than during the holidays. Tis the season to...want to strangle one another.

I have just finished detoxing from a trip "home" for the Christmas holiday. I spent the week (foolish me) washing more dishes than I've ever washed in my own home just to avoid having to interact with my dysfunctional family. I gobbled anti-anxiety medication in a way that made even my own shrink nervous about what was going on, and I cried on the phone to my partner (at 4:30 am) that I wanted to come home NOW - the second day of the trip. All in all, it was exactly what I envision when I think (in my recovering Catholic way) that there might actually be a hell.

What makes my family so miserable? Illness, regrets, guilt, a lack of respect for one another (born out of grudges between my parents that probably have their roots in things that happened before I was born - you don't get that pissed off in a decade or two), and a complete inability to communicate. This is nothing new.

What makes me so sad is that I have great memories of Christmas' past - both as a child and an adult - and this year's celebration didn't even come close to being merry or even cheerful. My mom and I spent every day going to movies (albeit, a fun way to pass time and catch up on the latest films) in large part to avoid my father's anger and frustration over his ill health. When I was around, there was nothing to talk about because the television runs 24/7 and you can't get a word in edgewise. My dad spent most of the time I was home sitting in his chair trying to deal with the pain in his legs (he is diabetic and doesn't take care of his health, which means open wounds and constant pain) while my mother hid in her sewing room making quilts. They try to avoid one another as much as possible.

My dad feels guilty about his poor health, but does nothing to try and change the behaviors that led to the problem. My mother blames my dad for all the misery she feels - if he would just loose weight, get his diet under control, use his insulin properly, exercise, not spend so much money, etc., THEN she would be happy. My dad thinks that if everyone just left him alone to do as he pleases, THEN he'd be happy. It's a vicious cycle, and one that I am loathe to witness and definitely do not want to repeat.

The good side of this is that I DON'T live this way. My partner and I are honest and upfront (even when it stings) and don't play the "passive/aggressive" game with one another. However, it literally took 4 days and 1 shrink visit to detox from this past visit - I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon. The recovering Catholic in me feels horribly guilty about this, but the person who wants to live a quite, mindful life has managed to make peace with it.