This post is a safe place to rant about cringe Xmas family stuff

Terrible. TLDR/CW: Drugs, suicide, abuse, and so on. I'm sort of writing this as a recollection of events so I don't forget, but also because this is a nice place to rant.

I spend my Christmas's with my mother alone every year now. We used to do big family Christmases, but she's now fallen out with the whole family, and many of them are no contact with her.

I went big on the presents - within my means, but sort of expensive. Just thoughtful and well picked stuff, some from her wishlist, some from my interpretation of it. They were wrapped and under the tree. I even added a couple origami figures - of an Oscar's award, and a mini book (related to the theme of her gifts).

Christmas eve, my mum's being a general energy vampire, but I figure she's just tired and will perk up. For the past 3 years since my sister cut her out, she's been a total mess, becoming almost intolerable. In 3 years she's learnt nothing. We have the same conversations about the situation every time. It's exhausting. She's also 'attempted suicide' every 4 months since, and pursued the Dignitas assisted suicide program. I am the one who has to deal with these moments. The last one, she said she tried to gas herself, and knocked the dogs unconscious. (She often weaponises the dogs, because she knows I care about them)

Christmas day comes. I wake up in the morning at 10AM and wake her up, as is often the case. She opens her eyes and says she hasn't wrapped my presents yet and needs to do it now.

I felt a bit hard done by the lack of effort, but I make coffee, and then I head upstairs to kill time. I hopped on the new Fortnite mode. Absolutely pasted some kids who probably got their first ever console for Christmas. I'm talking nasty 2008 style quickscopes. Bloodbath.

I go back down and we do presents. She got me some bits and bobs. I get a couple of the things I asked for. I mean hey, I'm nearly 24, what can I expect. It was an alright haul. Maybe a bit impersonal, but perfectly practical.

I say we should walk the dogs. She says 'in a bit'. I wait. I say we should walk the dogs. She says 'in a bit'. I wait. And again. Eventually I say I'll just go walk the dogs.

I go walk the dogs, and since my mum's not there, I go visit my aunt and cousin for a tea. I'm gone a good two hours. Then I walk back. Mum's still on the sofa. I half expected that she might've started the Christmas lunch (we were just going to have a good steak, because a whole chicken is a bit much for two people). She says she'll do the Christmas lunch later. For dinner. I kill a bit more time pottering about. We do a crossword. A read a bit of a book. Somehow it's about 6pm already.

She says she can't be bothered to make the dinner and asks if the oven-cook lasagna is alright. I say yes, that's fine. It was fine, really, though I wish she would've said sooner, and not kept my hopes up. I put the lasagne in the oven.

She asks if I want a drink. I say not really. She says 'go on'. I say I'll pass. She says 'go on'. I say I just don't really like the feeling of one drink. Three's fine if I'm in the mood for it, but I'm not. One drink feels like the worst of all worlds. She pours two drinks, and asks me to at least cheers her. I cheers, and I have a sip. That'll be that.

Then she says she's got some drugs in the car. 'Shall I go get them?'. I say 'no, don't be weird'. She laughs and goes and gets the drugs. She comes back and asks me to do a line with her. I say no, of course. (Not that I don't do drugs, but I don't like any of the white powders, and I don't like doing drugs with my mum.) She says she doesn't even know what it is, so she wants me to try some. I say no, over and over. Then she keeps pressing it, asking it in the way you'd ask someone to have a chocolate. 'Oh, go on!!! You know you want to!!!'. For a moment, the absurdity of the situation makes me laugh a bit. I'm telling her no, but I can't stop my giggle as a say it. But it's an uncomfortable giggle.

As she racks up two lines on a Christmas paper plate, I realize that I need to get serious. My tone changes. I tell her that I'm being serious, in the most sincere terms possible, and that it's uncomfortable, and weird. She keeps asking. I keep saying that I'm being serious. She takes a dab of the unknown drugs on her finger and noses it. She then asks me to do the same. At this point, I tell her to fuck off. I don't think I've ever told her to do that before, and especially not with the tone I'm now using. Seriously. Fuck off. Leave it. Leave me alone. Would you fuck off. I'm not joking at all. Do you get that? I'm not joking, this isn't funny. I'm not laughing. You need to stop. She keeps on going and going, taking a few more bumps of the stuff, describing it, asking me what I think it is.

I stand up. 'Fuck this'. I don't really know where i was planning on going next. I did a lap around the kitchen counter, fiddling a couple things on the way. I come back round, and she asks why I think it's weird. Why I'm annoyed, and so on. I say it's because I said no 50 times and told her it was uncomfortable, and yet she carried on.

She is unrepentant. Does her classic thing of asking 'but why is that bad?'.

So I go there. I say 'if this is how you're running the rest of your interactions with people, no wonder... ... Uh...'

I overstepped the line. I was going to say no wonder everyone cuts you out. And she knew that. And I meant it. And I didn't just say it because I felt a need to upset her. It's because it's such a classic thing she's done to these people, and I've bitten my tongue for too long. This was the perfect example.

Well, that really does it. She starts crying. The same conversation we always have. Again. I won't go into it. It gets to the usual point where she says she can't take another day and will kill herself. She asks for my blessing to end it all.

And you know what? Not today. If she'd been pleasant all day I wouldn't have done what I did next. She pushed me. So I brought it back round to Dignitas and assisted suicide. I ask around it. I'm subtly digging for information. She says they're holding 10 grand of hers, and that all she needs is some doctors approval notes. And a person to accompany her at the end.

I say:

Show me the transaction.

Show me the receipt. Show me any notion of proof.

She blabs with various excuses, that are winding in all different directions, like a writhing ball of hagfish.

My alarm goes off. Lasagna is ready.

I take it out the oven. I plate it up. It's quiet for a moment. We are both reordering our thoughts, like armies in-between waves of a long siege. Some words are exchanged. She monologues her usual monologue about how my sister has destroyed her.

I change tack. I say that I can't hold it back anymore. I need to be honest that I don't believe her. If I'm going to help her, I need fully honesty and openness. I need to see proof of the dignitas transaction. She says fine. And starts to make more excuses. And says not today, but she'll find it.

We eat lasagna and decompress. I take the dogs on a long walk. I research the dignitas process a bit. Nothing lines up. It's all bullshit. I knew it was.

I get back. Ring the bell. She opens the door, crying. She tells me she's considering killing herself tonight, and leaving a note on the door saying 'dont come in'.

'Right.'

She apologises for the evenings happenings.

I say it's fine. I go upstairs to go to bed. I play one more game of Fortnite. It was unsatisfying.

Merry Christmas.