Bah Humbug! No, that’s too strong, ’cause it is my favorite holiday

Good Riddance, Christmas!!! Bah humbug!!! Other anti-holiday phrases! Ok, just kidding. I love the holidays, but can't there be one that celebrates the circadian rhythm? Or maybe a holiday where everyone turns off their cell phones and no one cooks? Fun!

In all seriousness, it is hard to have a mental illness and carry on with the social conventions that appear to come naturally to the rest of the world during festive times. I understand that everyone has stress involving finances, relatives, and general exhaustion this time of year. But when you throw a mental illness or two into the mix, December is not only stressful, it can be triggering.

I can't speak for every person and all illnesses, but here are a few of the hardships I experienced December 23-25.

• Lots of people were in my house two days in a row. This is a big deal. I spent a long time isolating myself, sneaking out of gatherings early, and "feeling sick." Now all of a sudden, I had people ringing my doorbell, and I had to let them in. Because I invited them. 

• Not only did these people want to come in, they expected me to be dressed and capable of pleasant conversation (neither of which are guarantees on any given day). I broke down in loud, messy tears in the middle of pre-party cleaning, hating myself for not being normal and afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle a Christmas party with family I see on a regular basis and friends I talk to daily. "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to"? Bullshit. That is a bad party. A bad party that would have all the guests backing up to door and talking about the crazy lady who thought she was capable of sanity for a few hours.

• Then there is the opposite of depression to worry about when you're bipolar. "Wild Mary" kicked in on Christmas Eve, and she cooked for at least 9 hours, and cleaned for another two, starting at 6 because she woke up before 5. Dainty little appetizers, color-coded fruit kabobs, individual wonton cups for spinach dip, multi-cultural desserts, and dreidel-shaped ice. With the wildness usually comes anxiety. By the time guests arrived, I was sure they would see I'm crazy. My mania was written all over those mini quiches. 

• At my house, every other house, and most offices, food. Food as far as the eye can see. Chocolate and cheese and sausage and breads and pie and egg nog. Do I really need to explain why that may be scary to someone with anorexia? 

• I am not the most superficial girl, but I do like pretty nails. Any coat of color will do really. But Lithium tremors came full force the day before Christmas Eve. I wanted some festive, fun nails. Lithium just wanted to splash red all over my fingers. I felt like I was preparing for a low budget Christmas-themed horror film. 

• Finally, there is alcohol to worry about. I don't go to bars or clubs for the sole purpose of not drinking, but it creeps its way in during the holidays, oozing down the windows and crawling under the door. Oh, right. I wasn't actually in a Christmas horror movie. Fine, I bought it. But not with the intent to drink. It fucks with the lithium. Like, for real. Christmas Eve, I had to make a choice: drink with my friends and suffer the consequences, or abstain like a good girl and feel bitter that I don't get to relax after all my hard work. I drank. I didn't sleep all night. I was dizzy for hours. Bad choice, and I didn't even get close to drunk.

I love my family and friends. I love the holidays. I had a wonderful time when I wasn't teetering on the edge and was glad I did it. I proved to everyone that I can hold it together and create a wonderful evening and cook lunch on no sleep the next day. But next year, I'm handing over the reins or serving hot dogs. You guys pick.