You’ve raced towards us, this year.
I always look forward to December.
I’m a summer girl through and through, but December holds a special place.
It’s so Christmassy. Bright. Festive. Busy. Full of family. Full of friends. Full of excitement.
I get an overwhelming mixture of emotions in December.
I had a couple of strange ones.
In one, I was home after my first term of university, where I wasn’t happy. That December/ January, my sister was really poorly. I didn’t like that year.
In another, I felt nauseous. A lot. I was convinced I had some kind of bug, but couldn’t figure it out. Chewing gum (the minty taste) kept me going through social outings. That was third year of uni. A couple of months later, it became clear that had been the first signs of my anxiety taking hold.
In another December, I was struggling, probably at one of the worst parts of my panicking. I had to leave the room during a family gathering. I ate next to nothing of Christmas Dinner. The period prompted my first trip to the doctor about my anxiety, with my mum in the January.
Last year, December was a funny one. I had come so far, but my previous years of December memories had ended up being so fixated on my not being well. The period held a funny mixture of pride at how far I’d come, and sadness at the time I’d been struggling.
And excitement, because I was to start a new job in January.
And this year?
I’m another year on from those Decembers that were my worst.
A lot has changed this year.
I’ve moved to London, and pretty much every aspect of my life has changed.
What hasn’t changed?
I love Christmas.
And I absolutely love my family to pieces.
Which is why I’m so excited that December means home time. It means family time. It means food. It means gift-giving. It means lazy days. It means Christmas spirit.
I can’t wait.