The Nightmare Before Christmas

Over the course of writing this blog, I've tried to articulate things in an accurate fashion, presenting myself warts and all. Inevitably, with the diet going successfully, the picture has been painted in an increasingly positive light, one part Patron Saint of Weightloss, one part Adoring Dad. But like anybody else, I've plenty of faults. I'm sure if she wanted to, my wife could blog daily about them through 2014 and still have material for use in subsequent years.

One of my faults I've worked hard to overcome is my tendency to bottle emotion rather than deal with it. The diet helped to provide something positive for me to channel negative energy over the last year, keeping me focused during a period of great change as my household adapted to its new addition. While this has been a useful distraction (as well as a pretty successful one), it has masked a lot of baggage I've continued to carry. The past 12 months have been both mentally and physically fatiguing. Being a parent is challenging enough without all the extras that the little man has to contend with. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change him for the world and look forward to the joy he'll bring us in the new year and beyond. But the nights of broken sleep do take their toll, made worse by the fact that near enough every night, I wake him up tending to his medical needs and in doing so know that another troubled night beckons.

By and large, I've dealt pretty well with the challenges that 2013 has brought. I can't say that was the case on Christmas Eve. Exhausted from another interrupted night, and caught up in historical sadness which I've yet to properly address, I didn't deal with life very well at all. I'll spare the details as I don't wish to trivialise what happened, but will summarise that a fairly mundane interaction triggered an emotional outburst that was both unwarranted and upsetting for everybody concerned, not least my loved ones who should have been enjoying a pre-Christmas family gathering. On the way home I stopped at a petrol station, and came within a whisker of meltdown on the forecourt when after half a dozen attempts I still hadn't manage to position my car in range of the diesel pump. An uncharacteristically patient white van driver sat behind me saved a further scene. When things get on top of you, even the simplest of things can prove completely impossible.

A week on, and I'm pleased to say there have not been any repeats. I enjoyed watching my boys open their presents on Christmas morning and despite some inevitable night time interventions from the little one, there has been nothing more than the occasional grouchy moment to contend with.

My New Year Resolution for 2013 was to lose weight and as those who have followed this blog can testify, I was successful in doing so. 2014 offers the chance to work on a few other demons. Here's hoping for similar results.