Member-only story
Christmas Eve Insomnia: When the Ghosts of Holiday Past Keep You Wide Awake
Happy Christmas, even if you hate it
I can’t sleep. It’s Christmas Eve. Just. The clock tipped over into Christmas Eve as I went to bed.
Right now, it’s 6am and I’ve been awake for at least an hour, rolling around in a half-sleep, minor anxieties bubbling to the surface like a carbonated drink in my head.
I know why I’m awake. I’m hungry. That’s the reason. Simple biology. I can assure you it’s not the Christmas excitement. I don’t want to get all Scrooge on you but I’m 45-years-old and the Christmas excitement dissipated decades ago.
It happens in stages. When you stop believing in Santa Claus, the magic of Christmas weakens. When you start going out on Christmas Eve and wake up hungover, the magic weakens further. Then, when your parents go through a violently disruptive divorce, Christmas all but disintegrates along with any semblance of home life.
I hated Christmas for a long time, but that’s changed now. My affection for the season is returning. It’s been a while and a lot of rebuilding. I have my only family now, children, a wife, a home, two dogs, and a Christmas tree. The civility! Christmas isn’t about me anymore, it’s about my family. And that’s great.
