Holidays are the Ass Crack of the Year.

Oops, My Inner-Grinch Came Out of the Closet!

Christmas Holidays are the hardest time of the year for me.

In my early childhood, holidays were amazing and magical around this time of year. My parents really made Christmas special. Our living room boasted a real, deliciously fragrant Fir tree, beautifully decorated to the nines with baubles and ornaments, topped by a black porcelain angel.

Christmas morning was cozily warm and special. We ran downstairs in our socks and Jammies, excited to unwrap our presents. The cookies and milk were half eaten in the fireplace, a sign that Santa came down the chimney and enjoyed our offering.

My brother and I were spoiled with gifts. The harsh winter didn’t bother us one bit. More snowmen to build. More snowball fights to throw. More cushion for our sleds.

In fact, every single holiday and season was special, like its own birthday with its own special colors, themes, and treats.

And then, slowly but surely…my family disintegrated.