Do they know it’s Christmas?

Ok, controversial entry ahoy. I’m sat in my old bedroom in my parents’ house, feeling slightly sorry for myself, so I might sound a bit whiney.

Christmas at home is something I always insist upon, despite it rarely going without a hitch. I’m awkward at home with my family. I’m different to them, more so than I’d like to admit.

One of the “run-ins” I had with Mam today concerned two litre bottles of Tesco cider. I passed a comment that what Dad was using it for (boiling ham, it adds flavour and makes it less salty) was the only respectable use for such a product. Drunks and homeless people buy big plastic bottles of cider and consume them, just like underage drinkers who find the fizzy-drink-in-a-plastic-bottle format to be a familiar bridge from soft drinks to hard drinks. My basic arguement was that you’re not likely to see someone serving own-brand cider from a 2 litre bottle at a party.

Mam, whether playing Devil’s Advocate or not, decided I was being a snob. “Just because you’re rich”. I asked her “do you think I’m rich?” and she replied “no, but you act like you are”.

Biggest WTF ever ensued, purely in my head. I didn’t know what to say to that. All of this is at Christmas dinner and Mam wasn’t her best. My sister was working today and without her, it was only me and them. And I really got the feeling that they thought it was pointless having me there. My sister has achieved so much, graduating with honours from nursing in UCD this year. And there’s me, with no degree, no diploma, no career to speak of. They see me as someone “with brains to burn”, getting a job that pays as well as nursing except I didn’t bother doing college, I don’t work weekends, I don’t work before 9am or after 5pm and I get 5 weeks’ holidays every year. I’m just lucky and my sister has fought for what she has.

Of course, that’s only half the story. I have struggles too. I can’t study, I can’t do the college thing. My brain isn’t wired up for it. I’m always tired, I’m not career-minded and I’m never sure if I’m about to be fired or promoted. I constantly worry, I’m perpetually untrusting (Catherine is pretty much all I trust), I’m fighting an urge to shut down nearly every day and now I don’t feel I’m wanted in my own family home.

I feel like I’m in the way, like anything I do is wrong and if I don’t do anything, I’ll be branded as lazy. I can’t sleep well here either but I was made feel so guilty for going back to my own house over Christmas last year that I’ve tried to hang on here.

Why can’t they just look past the niggles? Why can’t they just accept that this is Joseph, your son. He takes a shower and forgets to hang up the towel. That’s not the same as expecting someone else to pick it up. Sometimes I crack my knuckles, it’s something all double-jointed people do. I may not put things into the dishwasher exactly like you do. I can’t get up at 6am every day, even weekends and Christmas Day. I can’t remember things like you can, despite having “brains to burn”. I’ve always been this way. I’m sorry. That’s all I ended up saying to Mam today, rather than argue about leaving a towel on the ground. And that annoyed her, because there was no fight in me. She looked like the bad guy for bringing it up.

I was going to stay til the 27th but I want to leave now. So I’ll be on the road to Kerry by 3pm tomorrow, to the un-conditional (well, certainly less-conditional) love and respect of my wife and in-laws. Who have been asking how I am. My parents haven’t. I’m just so disappointed. For fuck’s sake, who cares how annoying I am? It’s Christmas, just give it a rest. I’m sorry.

There’s plenty to look forward to from now on. I’ll have 3 nights in Kerry followed by 2 in Cork with Tara and then up to Westport for a New Year’s Eve house party with Dublin friends. Cork to Westport is fecking far, 278km or 4 and a half hours of driving. But it’ll be worth it, I’ll be with my Mrs. And I think that’s where I should be for Christmas.