Merry Christmas to the good the bad and the survivors

The Christmas session. It's the season of giving. It's the season for caring. Inside me something stirs. Anger. It creeps round rumbling like a smoking volcano. These years it's bearable. Well at least identifiable. I aware there are many kids out there who are not in the same place I am. I'm now 41. I write this on their behalf. I write this in the hope that possibly I can explain to you what they won't be able to for many years to come. I'm presumtious, arrogant but I don't care.

As an angry toddler, child, teenager, young adult etc etc, anger was my most common company. It could be relied apon, it was a feeling that never left. It was something ever present to be managed.

Anger made me "let myself down" anger made be "ruin things" and anger made me "hurt people".

I'm sure you are all aware from various angles of what I'm saying.

Then bloody Christmas come along with all its happy niceness. I was always aware that this holiday was not really for me. It was for nice kids, happy kids, kids who could be cuddled kids and kids who could sit still, kids who would like wearing posh cloths, kids who looked like they were part of a nauseating wholesome perfect family. They were a great threat to me as they exposed all my short comings with total unawareness.

So let me tell you not only did I despise those "nice kids" I would kick and want to hurt them. Make them pay for being so able to be loved and so able to be adored and so able to say the right fucking thing at the right bloody time.

Some times the rage in me when those nice kids arrived or we visited them was instant. Just the look of them and their stupid innocence would making me lunge in thier general direction before a word had even been spoken. Before they could show me up I'd sort them out. I wanted to be better than them, I wanted to show I had control over the situation because I knew Christmas was nice. I was not nice.

I am of corse now sorry for my behavior but back then they just represented everything I wanted but was to ugly and rubbish to have. They and Christmas just made me more aware of the the gulf between me and the rest of the world. They and Christmas just made me feel so lonely and disconnected.  My sadness was only bearable dressed up in anger.

So if you have a carwen I want you to know however bad the behaviour the letting down the side has been, we really just feel very exposed raw and vulnerable. I'm sorry anger may be the only thing we have to use that's safe. I promise you you are loved by your carwen and I ask yet again for you to still love us even though that's the last thing we deserve. I also say sorry to you on your Carwen's behalf because I'm sure that I they could they would want to say that to.

Merry Christmas everyone the good, the bad and the survivors.