"My grief and sadness doesnt come from my childhood, it comes from all the trauma I have endured as an adult".
Maybe this is it!
Christmas is a painful time for me, and no one (including me) seems to know why. Yet when I delve into the shadows of memory what I always come to is how hard I worked to make Christmas a magical time, and how little my children seemed to appreciate it.
I recall the highs of putting up the tree and singing songs, and I remember the air of disappointment after their gifts were opened. Now I have the trauma of my adult children saying they never had a joyous Christmas.
My best wasnt good enough for them, in any way.
The trauma of rejection.
