It's okay if your holidays aren't happy

You are not alone

my dad on his birthday

I’m taking a break from telling you my feelings about the news to tell you it’s okay to be sad during the holidays. I’m not a mental health provider, this isn’t medical advice, it’s just a rant from a human who had to cancel their trip to Michigan to see their in-laws because every comedian in New York City has COVID-19. Okay, not every comedian, but I’ll stop referring to myself in third person now to tell you a little tale of my not so happy holidays.

Exactly twelve days ago I was talking to comedians who either tested positive for COVID-19 or tested negative but had symptoms. Instead of running out to get tested my depression and anxiety came together to create a cocktail of agoraphobia which kept me home. I was too scared to leave the apartment, but I was more scared of getting on a plane and taking omicron to Michigan. We weren’t going to get on that plane unless we got a negative test, so my husband and I went to go get tested.

We waited in line for close to 2 hours to get tested and I was immediately triggered when we got there and there was a cop managing the line. If you know me you know I hate cops and this case was specifically upsetting because having a cop to manage a line into a hospital means that the city has spent so much money on the cops that they have money for nothing else. De Blasio had closed 20 testing sites during a pandemic because of low demand and I’m assuming that money went to the NYPD’s holiday party budget.

We were hoping to get our test results in at the latest three days so we could make an informed decision about our trip. It’s been five days and we still don’t have results. Probably because they have a shortage of staff to process our tests and they are training a cop on how to be a lab person right now. We cancelled our trip to Michigan, which we honestly might have had to do anyway, but I was frustrated because we had to do it without a positive result in hand to justify the cancellation.

I’m not a religious person, but I sometimes ask the universe to not let me bomb at a comedy show where the audience doesn’t seem to be there to laugh but to stare at the comedians until they quit. Turns out canceling our trip to Michigan was the universe’s way of saying, hey your dad who lives twenty minutes away from you in Brooklyn will have to go the emergency room on Christmas Eve and he’ll need you to be in Brooklyn for Christmas. Yes, my dad got very sick on the day when Santa is riding his sleigh. It wasn’t COVID-19, but he had to wait in the emergency room for six hours in extreme pain.

The emergency room didn’t have enough medical staff for all the sick people, but guess who they had there to manage the sick in the waiting room. If you guessed the police, ding ding ding, you are correct. There is an episode of Gilmore Girls where the town mayor decides to spend the entire town festival fund on a hay bale maze and so there is no money for other activities. The city was taken over by bales of hay. The cops are our hay bale maze, but worse because they are not fun.

Nonetheless, I spent time with my sick dad on Christmas Day. I know you are thinking, human, didn’t you just say you didn’t get your COVID-19 test results? Why did you go see your sick dad? I have no defense. My dad really wanted to see me and I just couldn’t bare to say no. Also, I didn’t get my test yet so there is a chance that I was negative? I really didn’t want my dad to spend Christmas alone sick. Feel free to yell at me in the comments because I can’t say I regret my decision.

Don’t worry, other than going to my dad’s apartment, I have not been going anywhere else other than my refrigerator. My dad is also vaccinated so that made me feel a little better about this weak choice. There were nice moments spent in the cloud of despair. My family shares my dark humor so we laughed at his terrible state. We also laughed at the fact that my dad’s cat darts through the living room window when anyone comes over because he hates everyone but my dad and brother.

When I got home from being with my dad I made the mistake of watching “Don’t Look Up” and started bawling when the movie was over. I cried for my dad and all the people who suffer because we live in a cruel world of our own making. Not our making directly, but capitalists who force us to hurt each other, destroy the planet, and then tell us that buying a cute pair of pajamas will make us feel much better.

I cried for my mother who died ten years ago. I miss her dearly, she struggled to give me a good life only for me not to be able to maintain a job because of my unstable moods and bouts of suicidal ideation. My most recent diagnosis was bipolar disorder. It was generalized anxiety disorder before then. None of these diagnoses can describe my contempt for a world that causes people to suffer for money.

I want you to know that it’s okay if it’s hard for you to enjoy the holidays. I also want you to know that no matter your struggles, I care about you and I’m sending you all the love through the universe. Please accept it.