Christmas Crisis

Candy cane, mistletoe, a plethora of parties, the ever present aroma of baked goods and an excessive amount of tinsel are just some of the things that we encounter during the holiday season. It’s a period of happiness and joy, signifying the completion of yet another year. It may seem very minuscule, in terms that most humans live through many years of existence without having the need to think of the last 365 (or 366) days and might prefer to concentrate on the new year ahead of them instead. But it’s not that simple for everyone.

For some, December might signify the end of one more year against fighting a terminal disease, while for some it may mark another holiday season without a loved one. Some are suffering through addiction while others are battling their inner demons. There are those who remain separated from their families by distance during this time of gathering, some by fate and others by choice. And then there are those to whom the holiday season acts as an unforgettable constant of everything they’ve lost.

While I consider Christmas to be an everlasting moment of bliss in the existence of time and space, it also marks the commencement of my anxiety riddled life, because it was during this time, at the age of 15, when I had my first ever panic attack.

“Maya, grab some more aluminium foil from the cupboards, would you? Your sister has decided that she’s decorating the house with foil reindeer this year instead of letting me wrap up my cakes in peace,” my mother asks me while glaring at my little sister Ananya who is surrounded in what appears to be three rolls worth of aluminium foil. “Mum, our decorations are as old as you! We need to make the house look pretty, so that Santa will give me the princess dress I’ve asked him for. Otherwise he’ll send it to the wrong house,” my 10-year-old sister complains. To be quite honest, the decorations she’s been attempting to make for the past hour aren’t really coming along well. The reindeer either seem to be decapitated or look like they’ve been crushed under a bus. “Well, Santa isn’t going to be very happy with you if you make your mother’s life difficult. Now go and help your Dad with the tree and give me back the foil, I need it to pack all the biscuits and cakes to distribute to people later. We can make some decorations out of the leftover craft paper we bought, okay?”, my mother says as she tries to convince Ananya out of her latest hare brained scheme. “But it won’t look as shiny then. We need to get Santa’s attention”, Ananya replies with a pout. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can come up with something much better to make the house look pretty. But first go help your father,” she says and picks up whatever aluminium foil is salvageable for her use.

My sister stares at her heap of poor attempt of foil reindeer on the floor reluctantly when my brother calls her over. “Ana, why don’t you come over here? I need help putting all this fake snow on the tree, and the baubles look pretty uneven. Maybe I’ll even let you put the star on the tree,” Kenneth winks as he tries to entice her away. “Okay! But Kenny, you have to put me on your shoulders. The tree is very big, and I’m still a growing girl”, my sister says as she starts bossing Kenny around, decapitated reindeer forgotten.

“So how’s the singing coming along Maya? I hope you’re doing your vocal exercises regularly; we can’t have you losing pitch during the performance,” Mum asks as she continues wrapping up all the baked goods. Every year, our family attends a grand Christmas party that is hosted by my parents’ friends. It involves dressing up, a variety of amazing food and a lot of schmoozing. There are also performances done by the kids all related to Christmas carols and the nativity. The whole point of the party is to have a great time and celebrate the holiday, but often than I’d like to admit, it turns into a bragging contest for the adults, my mother included. That is why I’m being forced to sing a solo at this year’s party, because my mother believes my voice is amazing and just has to be showcased in front of a crowd of people she wants to impress.

“Um, it’s been ok Mum. I’ve been keeping the modulation even, and I’m getting better at prolonging the high notes,” I reply hesitantly as I work on my English assignment. Yes, I really like singing, and I might even say I’m a decent singer, but the truth is, I’ve been really nervous about the performance. It’s not the song that is difficult, but the thought of all those people staring at me with scrutiny that gets my heart racing abnormally. Honestly, I really want to back out, but I haven’t got the guts to tell my mother that. And what’s even worse is that the party is tomorrow night.

“Alright, just keep practicing and make sure you take your medication. I don’t want your asthma to get in your way. And just sing like you normally do, I know you won’t disappoint me,” Mum says with a pat on my cheek and then walks back towards the kitchen. That’s what I’m most worried about.

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“Kenny, this dress is way too tight. I don’t think I can breathe in enough air to live, let alone sing. Maybe I should just ditch the song,” I say to my brother as I clutch a glass of water in my hands. We’re now at the party, which is in full swing. The adults are chatting around in circles with glasses of champagne, all elegantly dressed in formal wear. The young children including Ananya are playing around the fake Santa’s workshop put up for them that is surrounded with toys, candy and artificial snow. The older kids are in their own little groups, dancing or just sitting around texting.

And then there’s me, trying to hide from everyone by standing near the doors to the staff kitchen. Mum might have had to manhandle me into a very beautiful, but really uncomfortable skater dress and even managed to get my hair out of its regular bird’s nest. But not even a makeover can help stop the abnormal racing of my heart or mute the constant waves of ‘What if’s’ and other irrational thoughts running through my mind. Normally, I’d try distracting myself by talking to someone, like I did with Lewis and Sasha earlier when then came by, but it didn’t work. The only thing it had succeeded in was making me look like an even bigger idiot than usual, and I don’t want to drive away the few friends I have who actually like me. Which is why I’m acting like I’ve been banned from the party for the past hour. But then Kenneth found me, and decided that we’ll look like idiots together instead of spending time with his girlfriend.

“Your dress is fine Maya. In fact, you look quite pretty tonight. So don’t be silly, maybe you could serenade someone with your performance and even get yourself a kiss under the mistletoe,” my demented brother jokes as he drinks his soda. “Thanks stupid, that was definitely helpful,” I reply with an eye roll. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night, and not because Ananya likes playing football with my body in her sleep. My tummy is acting up like I’m at a Six Flags roller coaster, and I haven’t even eaten anything here yet! I feel like this is going to be a disaster, and my brain keeps making sure to remind me.” “Just relax alright, it’s not like this is costing you a nomination at the Grammy’s. It’s just another Christmas party and once it’s done, you have all the right to go to the buffet table and pig out, manners be damned. You stay here and calm yourself down first, and then go to the podium when they make an announcement for the participants. I’ll be watching from the back with Priya and hollering your name like the demented Neanderthal you keep calling me,” he says and starts walking away.

Right then, the hostess for this year’s party, one of Mum’s closest friends, calls for all the participants to assemble. I can’t think straight as I force myself to make my way there, and stand besides Nicole, a girl who plays the violin.

“Hi Maya, I’m glad you’re here,” Mrs. D’souza says with a small hug. “I know that you’ve got the third slot, Nathan and the others need some more time to get ready. So I’m putting you first ok? Your mother said that you’ve been preparing well, so I’m counting on you,” she continues with an encouraging smile and then promptly pushes me onto the makeshift stage with a mike in hand, and then announces my performance.

Suddenly, it’s like someone hit fast forward and everything is happening way too fast. As I stand on the stage and look at the crowd staring back at me, my heart starts thumping like someone just injected 5 cups of coffee straight into my blood. I gulp in a breath of air nervously as my hands begin to shiver. What makes you think you can do this? Nicole will blow the crowd away with another musical piece and Nathan is far better at maintaining pitch than you could ever dream of. You’re just a sad excuse that’s asking to be roasted in front of all these people, and then you’re going to let your mother down again. I try to open my mouth to say something but no voice comes through. I can see my mother looking at me questionably, and my breathing just seems to increase at an alarming rate. The room feels hotter and just when things couldn’t get any worse, I manage to drop the mike which lands on the floor with a screech.

That’s all that is needed as I take off, running straight out of the banquet hall to some deserted corridor. I collapse on the carpet and bring my knees together, tears falling freely down my face. I don’t know what to do as I continue hyperventilating, with the only thoughts circulating my mind being disappointment, self loathing and worthlessness. My throat starts closing up and as the initial wheezing of an asthma attack begin to pick up, my brother comes running down the hallway.

“Oh my God, Maya! Are you alright? You look so pale”, he asks and crouches down next to me. I try to speak but all that comes out is a mix between a sob and a wheeze. “Here, I’ve got your inhaler with me, come on, just a deep breath,” he instructs as he holds the inhaler to my mouth. It takes a minute, but I somehow manage to slow my breathing and take in a breath as he presses down on the canister. Within seconds, the medication takes effect and my breathing starts easing, just a bit. “Feeling better?” “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to do anything right,” I burst out with a new wave of shame and bury myself further into my knees in order to stop myself from shaking. “Shush, don’t say that. It’s okay to mess up and listen, I’m right here,” he replies and hugs me. “It’s alright. Sometimes, it can be really scary to put yourself out there, and that happens to everyone. It’s just a little tougher for you, and I can understand that. You don’t have to hate yourself for it,” he continues as he rocks me slowly, never letting go. “What about Mum?”, I ask with a sniffle. “She’s our Mum. Sure, she likes to push us so that we do better, but she’d never loathe you for not being able to do something. She loves you, and sometimes that love projects a little too strong. It’s not her fault either, she’s just trying her best. So don’t worry about it, and don’t fret about performing either. I’ve taken care of it,” he replies with a smile.

Once my sniffles have come to a stop and my breathing has become normal, he asks, “Want to get back inside?” “What about all those people?” “It’ll be fine. They’re probably listening to a bunch of bored teenagers singing some Christmas carol. Besides, I promised that you could the raid the banquet table remember? C’mon, before they run out of the good starters. I'll even hide some of those potato poppers in my jacket for later if you want,” he says, offering his hand as he stands up. I stare at him for a long moment before I grasp his hand. I stand up and then give him a small smile saying, “Okay then, Kenny. Lead the way.”

   

As much as Christmas might remind me as the beginning of a new and very permanent set of challenges, it also reminds me that no matter who you are, there will always be someone for you in your time of need. Someone who doesn’t care whether you have money or an extraordinary life. Someone who will always have your back, and will always love you.

And I want you to remember, no matter which state you are in, there is someone in this world who will hold your hand, help you get through it and see you through towards a happier life. You just need to keep your eyes open.