here are some entries from the website mymiserablechristmas.com, in which people tell stories of sadness or crisis or whatever during the holidays. just thought i'd help put things in perspective for us all. or, i could show pictures of poor children. or of santa kneeling before baby jesus, which is weird.
9. The song of a child (12/13/99) - Little Drummer Girl, Age 26
When I was a child from the age of about 4 till I was nine my cousin and I were made to dress up in velveteen dresses and sing xmas songs Shirley Temple style. I'm still in therapy.8. Make an offering (12/9/99) - Judy, Memphis, Age 25
I was a little tipsy on xmas eve. I threw up during the candlelight service during the quiet time all over the lady in front of me. It reeked beer and cheese, it made me puke even more. The worst part about it was that I forgot to change my baby's diaper and things just reeked even worse. I cried so hard, and got up and slipped and fell on the lady I threw up on. Then, the diaper came undone and soaked into the material of the pew.
243. Holidays up in smoke (12/06/07) - Connie, New York, Age 32
When I was six my dad got dead drunk and plunged headlong into the Christmas tree we had all worked so hard to string popcorn for and make beautiful. After I got married things went progressively downhill from there. One year my children set the living room rug on fire. Ex hubby and I quickly stomped it out. Last year my idiot boyfriend spent all my money on weed, so guess what both of us got…Nothing. This year was better. I spent the holiday with my new (non-druggie) sweetie and his family. One good Christmas - I think it’s a fluke.
247. As if I didn’t exist (12/06/07) - Gabriela, Maryland, Age 18
Last year on December 23 I got into a huge fight with my father and it got very violent. I left the house and slept in the car in the parking lot of my work. The next morning, I returned, hoping to reconcile, but was instead told to pack my things, give up my car keys and leave the house, even though I was the victim of the violence, not the other way around.
I was taking care of my neighbors’ house while they were out of town, so I ended up spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day across the street from my own house, sleeping on my neighbors’ couch. Through the window, I could see my family celebrating Christmas without me, as if I didn't exist.
201. Felled by flatulence (12/14/06) - Brandi, Virginia, Age 17
At Christmas Eve dinner with my boyfriend's family and three of their close friends, my boyfriend's stepfather passed out on the kitchen floor. We'd thought he'd had a stroke or heart attack, and when they examined him at the emergency room, they told us that it was a gaseous buildup in his intestines. He'd held in his gas throughout the dinner, and when he was walking to the bathroom it overwhelmed him. The next day everyone was still traumatized by the event.
254. It’s just a flesh wound (12/06/07) - Nick, New Jersey, Age 18
The Christmas right after the Xbox came out, in addition to the console and games, my brother and I had asked our dad for various knives and swords. He got us some pocket knives. One of them was razor-sharp and came in a leather sheath. After opening it and examining the blade, I tried to force it back into its resting place. The blade went through the sheath and through the web between my thumb and index finger. My dad freaked out and said I ruined Christmas. My drunken mom just screamed until he took me to the hospital. (She couldn't take me because she couldn't go out in public without any make-up.) I got stitches. The whole episode, which my older brother had videotaped, later was used as evidence in my parents’ divorce.
1. Santa's gonna get it (12/3/99) - Jase, Boston, MA, Age 25
When I was six, my drunken father threatened to blow Santa away with a shotgun if we weren't good. He said - "You little bastards better straighten up and fly right or I will get my shotgun and wait at the foot of the chimney for that fat fuck to come down and I will blow his head off." He was swaying as he said this to us. We didn't have a chimney.
and, my personal favorite ...
256. Vigilante dad (12/06/07) - Tim, Maine, Age 33
The worst Christmas I ever had was three years ago. My ex-wife had taken our two offspring for Christmas at “her house” (with the prick she had been cheating on me with while we were married). I spent Christmas Eve with a bottle of bourbon, watching "Face/Off" on my laptop and listening to the wind howl around my apartment building. Christmas morning, I woke up to the phone ringing, and it's my daughter crying her eyes out. She told me that Todd (the jagoff my ex dumped me for) had touched her in her “swimsuit area” while my ex was asleep.
I hopped in my car and went to my ex’s house. I pounded on the door and yelled, “I want to see my kids!” Todd opened the door and said, “What the fuck are you doing here?” I grabbed him and started beating the shit out of him. We fought for about 15 minutes, then the cops showed up (thanks neighbors!). The cops dragged us apart and began hitting me with their nightsticks. I yelled, “This cocksucker was raping my kid!”
The cops shoved me into the squad car and I spent the day in the holding cell. Then one of the cops told me that my kids were being released to their Grandmother. The next day, I got out of jail and went home to my answering machine. There was a message saying that neither my ex or Todd can care for the kids now. So my mother is bringing up my kids. She will do a better job than me. Now I have to find Todd and kill him.