The holidays are a tough time for some people, and for some of them, the thought of dealing family is just too much to handle. Check out these stories of disastrous Christmases past.
She proceeds to tell me how I totally ruined her Christmas morning by the way I reacted, and that she was going to her sister's alone.
'So let me get this straight, you kicked me in the shins, and I ruined your morning? How was I supposed to react while asleep?'
Apparently, I was really out of line crying out and cussing in pain, as if I could control my reaction while unconscious.
She left me alone on Christmas morning, then had the gall to send me a text saying that she'd 'really like it if I came to celebrate Christmas with her family.' I'm sure she told them a pack of lies to explain why I wasn't there.
I stayed home alone, caught up on The Walking Dead by binging on Netflix. She would later ruin New Years Eve (accused me of cheating on her and was crying out in public, while we were on vacation in Arizona), Easter (nearly passed out from drinking while sitting at the dinner table with her family talking gibberish), then Memorial Day (blatantly picked a fight over two separate fictional reasons two days in a row). I then filed for divorce on our third wedding anniversary. I've never looked back."
"Last year. After a few all-nighters and a week of finals, I came home to work at my retail job. Worked a few more all-nighters, then came down with a BAD flu on Christmas Eve. Spent the next 24 hours throwing up in the shower and lying on the floor, while my witch of an older sister complained about how I didn't deserve a nice dinner, good presents, etc. She picked fights with me all day, while I couldn't even swallow food or walk."
"I had found a big lump on my neck on December 4th, and diagnosed with cancer around the 15th. I was just a teenager so I had no idea what it all meant. They had the diagnosis wrong before the biopsy, so I didn't trust them when they told me I was going to be okay. I started chemo on the 24th and puked my way out of the hospital. The next day I was too sick to go downstairs and see my family that had visited. It was an awful time, but December 26th was the best day after Christmas ever thanks to a football player from Kansas State football player (he had the same type of cancer) who called and explained everything that was happening."
"In 2010, we celebrated Christmas lunch with my Mom's family, including my grandfather who I was really close to. Unfortunately, he hadn't been doing very well health-wise, and as everyone was eating and having a good time, he began to have this paranoid delusion that his wife was trying to kill him. He was such a gentleman, but that afternoon he was cursing and screaming and not letting anyone touch him. We all had to hurry the younger kids out of the house and leave, as my mom and uncle frantically tried to calm him down. Seeing him like that was so hard. He died a month later.
Afterward, to add insult to injury, I had to drive through a snowstorm to and from my other grandmother's house. Why? Because my spoiled youngest cousin was throwing a fit and refusing to eat the Christmas turkey. My dad made me drive all the way to our house and back, in the snow, to pick up a baggie of some leftover ham we had saved from lunch. All because that bratty little jerk didn't want to eat the Christmas dinner."
"December 12, 1999, 8-year-old me, drowsy from having the family's favorite dinner, I pass out excited for the next day of school. Another day closer to Christmas! I doze peacefully, dreaming of all the Pokemon cards and memorabilia I will get in less than two weeks. I sleep for maybe two hours when I'm woken up violently.
It's a firefighter. My room illuminated by red and white flashing lights, I panic and think our apartment is on fire. He picks me up out of bed, throws me over his shoulder as I cling to my precious bear-bear, and keeps telling me everything is going to be ok. Outside of our apartment is crawling with uniformed officers, firefighters, and what I now know as military investigators, being that my dad was in the military.
I am led to my neighbor's apartment, who happens to be my best friend. He greets me with enthusiasm, and we go off to play some super smash bros on his Nintendo 64. Staying up late playing video games on a school night? Yes! We play for an hour or so, then his mom pops in and grabs my friend and says my mom has to talk to me. He is led out and a light is turned off. I sit on the bottom bunk of a room only illuminated by moonlight through the window. I remember it being a cold, clear Arizona night. My mom comes in, quietly, somberly. She sits next to me. I can see her face well now. Her eyes puffy, her nose red. What she told me made me never celebrate Christmas ever again.