Hey kids, play “Flight of the Navigator” by childish Gambino, and put that on repeat as you read through this.
It’s December 21st of the year 2022. The holiday slump has hit the US government and things are slowing down. Well for most offices minus ours, we still have a bunch of projects that causes me to stay pretty late recently. I don’t mind it though, the coworkers I have keep me company and I appreciate that company during the last days of the year.
The last two weeks of the year are pretty rough for me to be honest. I used to love Christmas and New Years, it was the best part of the year, more time with Mom and Dad together, presents, and seeing all the people I loved together.
Then my father was stationed overseas, he was stationed in Okinawa while my mother and I stayed in S. Korea. I was seven when that happened, it was the middle of the year, and it didn’t bother me all that much the first couple of months. Sadly things changed. My mother would sneak out of the house and leave me alone at night on Sundays. I remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday still, it still hurts even though I’m damn near thirty.
I hated sleeping alone as a child due to night terrors I had. I was always trying to sleep in bed with my dad or mother so I felt safe. But eventually she forced me to sleep on my own which I started to get accustomed with, but one night I went to bed and woke up from a nightmare. I ran to my mother’s room to seek comfort and after knocking, I heard nothing from the other side. I remember feeling fear, feeling the panic set it and I didn’t know what to do. I started wailing and crying and I was left alone, I slammed my hands against the wooden door begging for her to open. I didn’t know what to do so I curled up on the couch clutching my teddy bear and cried myself to sleep. It was the first time I remember being abandoned, felt as if I was worthless, as if I was not worth being around, like I was just some nuisance.
This behavior of leaving me at home became normalized, I became cold to the abandonment and started taking advantage of being able to stay up late and watch Disney channel, play video games, and play with my toys. It became so normal for me to be left alone that I started to create imaginary friends. I brought characters from the video games I played, and conjured them into this reality that I concocted. I would have conversations with them to pass the time. I’d setup elaborate stages for my toys and pass the time by creating interweaving stories. I’d draw stick figures, I’d try to distract myself as much as possible to ignore how lonely I felt.
I held on because I had some type of hope that it would all end on Christmas. Christmas is supposed to be a day of miracles right? A day when Rudolph saved Santa Claus, a day when all is supposed to be right in the world. I remember I wrote a letter to Santa Claus that year, to just bring my father back on Christmas, to just have a Christmas when we were together. I said I’d give up my toys, I’d give up everything, I’d give up video games, I just wanted my family back. I wrapped that letter up with a “To” address to Santa Claus written in green and red crayon and shoved the letter into the mailbox.
Fast forward to Christmas Eve and I’m excited. I’m waiting for the time to get closer to bed time. I even get ready for bed because I’m so excited for the next day to come, but I notice that as I’m getting ready for bed my mother is getting ready to sneak out. My heart starts to sink and I go to my room and just watch “Third Rock from the sun” as the hands of time turn over into Christmas. I walk out into the room just praying that somehow there’s my father sitting on the couch and all I see are two gundam sets unwrapped on the coffee table with a ripped piece of paper saying “Merry Christmas”.
Ever since that day I kind of gave up on Christmas, I stopped caring for this holiday, I stopped caring for all holidays. It’s been 23 years but I still feel the sharp fangs of pain rack over my senses. I’ve cried endlessly as I typed this out, I relive that pain so easily when I remember it. It’s not that I don’t want to get into the spirit. Last year Mei and I had our first Christmas together and I felt warmth. This year I’m trying to get more into the spirit to give more. To feel the love that I didn’t feel before. Maybe that’s dramatic but I think I’m just afraid of being disappointed in the same manner that I did.
I grew up being super reflective during the holidays because of this, I’d walk around in the cold and walk by the homes that were decorated. Christmas lights and decorations sparkling. I’d see through the open windows that families were gathered together playing boardgames or watching movies. I’d return to an empty home, my father at a bar somewhere and I’d hop on my computer to play video games. Distracting myself, like I did as that young boy so many years ago.
I’d listen to “Because the Internet” by Childish Gambino, Kid Cud’s “man on the moon”, “Blonde” by Frank Ocean. These ethereal albums really made me question a lot of things, set the ambient tone for a late night walk. I’d stare into the stars and wonder outwardly and inwardly. Contemplating the factors that made me, what things I controlled, what things I had done wrong as a child. Did I deserve to be treated the way I was? Was I unworthy of a family? Am I unloveable? Was I the reason those horrible things happened? Even as a man who’s damn near thirty those fears really show their faces during this time of the year. Mei and I have had so many hard emotional talks lately because of problems we’ve had recently. I think those problems stem from the fear of the same thing happening, don’t you?
It took a long time to put myself together, it took so many years of self help books, perspective changes, lens adjustments, deep spiritual conversations with strangers and friends, and I’m finally starting to get a grasp on all of this.
I want to let you know that I don’t want you to ever go through the pain I went through, I never want your family to be the cause of pain/trauma. I’m sure it will be in someway but I don’t want to break your foundation and for you to go through the trouble I had with accepting and loving myself for who I was. I want you to spend your energy figuring out your path in life, in love, and find a living that makes you happy. All I want is to be a springboard for you all to find success. To become the fruit of the efforts I made. I’ve worked so hard and long to become the man that I wish was in my life. Be kind to others, be kind to yourself, and know that I’m here for you to talk things out.
I hope this helps you understand a little more of me.