The season to be jolly

‘Tis the season to be jolly according to the words of the well known carol.

The festive season has arrived and gone, and I have survived – but it has taken its toll. This year, our family festivities worked in a different way. Earlier in the year, my parents bought a second home in the next village up the valley from us, partly in an effort to be closer at hand without imposing on us all the time. This, on the whole, has been a positive thing – family relations are more cordial than they have been for a while, and things seem less strained.

Christmas has been a sore point in our family for a number of years. My parents main home is a 300 mile drive away, which in the UK is about half the way from the top to the bottom of the country, and a car journey, not one taken by plane. For the first couple of years after our kids were born, we stuck by tradition, and made the long drive to my parents house for Christmas week. However, my wife and I then decided that we’d prefer to stay at home over the Christmas period in subsequent years, at least while Christmas was still a magical experience for the kids. We don’t have the room to put everyone up, so for the last few years we’ve had a much smaller family Christmas celebration, without my extended family present. This has worked well, as we have not had to cook for a large number of people, or even be very organised – all of which suites me fine. Of course, this didn’t go down quite so well with my parents, and my mum in particular. She likes the family to spend Christmas together. As we live in different areas of the country, and don’t meet up very often, I can understand her point of view. But ultimately, you have to do what is right for you, not for everyone else.

With the new house in the neighbouring village, this year’s Christmas was always likely to be different. My wife and I agreed to allow a larger family Christmas, with us providing lodging to one relative, and my parents putting up my brother. My wife and I would cook the Christmas meal, from food provided by our guests. All in there would be six adults and two children eating together on Christmas day. Entertaining on the surrounding days would be shared between the houses. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?

Well, we all survived, and there weren’t any arguments. My wife was ill with a nasty flu-like bug that has been doing the rounds, so I had to do a bit more thinking ahead and rushing around than I was expecting. I cooked most of the meal, which went fine until the point that the turkey was starting to run late. We only have a small kitchen with a single oven, so my planning all revolved around the roasted vegetables going into the oven once the turkey was cooked. It became clear that the turkey was going to take rather longer than estimate, and at this point, faced with a written list of jobs that couldn’t be started, I started to get very stressed. In the end, the dinner was on the table an hour later than planned, the roasted veg weren’t as good as I had hoped they be, and I was feeling very very stressed indeed.

Our guests left in the middle of the week between Christmas and New Year. My wife was still ill, the kids were fighting a lot and I was very much out of my comfortable routine and feeling very stressed out and anxious. There was nothing in particular that was causing it – more like everything was causing it. Nothing in particular was wrong, but yet nothing was right either.

I longed to get back to work after the new year, because I hoped that would provide me with my regular routine once more, and allow my feeling of wellbeing to return.

It didn’t. I have found it very difficult to get back into the swing of things at work. I think the problem is my underlying stress and anxiety that have been so robustly shored up over Christmas. They feel to be acting as something of a barrier preventing me from starting tasks. I’m trying hard, but faced with a long list of tasks that need doing at work, I’m feeling rather overwhelmed at times.

Stress and anxiety can affect anyone, of course. Indeed I’m sure that a huge number of work days are lost every year to them. Christmas time with family can be stressful for anyone too. I understand all of this, and yet at the same time I feel that the problem I’m facing here is inextricably bound up with my Asperger’s too. My lack of social intuition, need for routine and tendency to get overloaded by sensory input all quickly lead to stress and anxiety. My Christmas was characterised by a complete lack of usual routine and long periods of social interaction, along with trying to keep the kids amused and stop them from fighting. I longed for some time where I could just go somewhere quiet to be alone and do nothing for a while. That would jave been bliss, but it didn’t happen. Instead, the stress and anxiety that was the output of my busy and disorganised week was multiplied by the stress and anxiety that most people feel in hosting a Christmas week for their families.

And so here I am, one week back at work, and nearly two weeks since my guests went home still felling highly stressed and highly ineffective at work. I’ve produced lists of tasks. I’ve tried to write them in different ways and in different formats. I’ve done my best to prioritise them, and to tell myself that I can sort this all out.

It will all get sorted, of course – at least those bits that are important. But I know that it’ll be some time yet before I feel relaxed and in control.

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I wish all of you a happy new year.

Thanks you so much to those of you who have taken the time to write to me recently – either here or via email. I apologise for not replying – perhaps the above explains a little about why that is. As ever, writing is ultimately the media that works best for me, and I’d really like to spend more time doing it this year. Being honest and open with you here – albeit anonymously – has helped me enormously over the last two years. I hope there is much more to come.

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