~I Dislike Christmas~
Oh, don't be shocked I said that. I do, I dislike Christmas with a passion! I can fully relate to the Grinch and wanting Christmas to NEVER come! I've been this way since I was 7 1/2 years old. That was the Christmas that was the bestest and worst I've ever had. In my family (if ya could call it a family) We we're allowed to ask for only one big thing. All I asked Santa for was a baby doll, no name brand baby. Just a baby who needed love like me.
I've always gotten sick on Christmas Eve, Always the same thing earache, and stomach pains. I thought it came from excitement of Christmas and opening gifts the next morning. This particular Christmas I was excited, I couldn't wait to see what baby Santa sent me to lavish love on.
In our family ya didn't wake up and rush downstairs to the tree. No, we couldn't possibly be like other kids. We had to wait for our mother to call us down, then head to the kitchen to eat a huge bowl of oatmeal. UGH! We weren't allowed to get up from the table till it was all gone. Luckily we had a brother who could never have enough to eat. One by one we gave him our bowl of oatmeal. We finally got everyone in the living room to open gifts.
I remember now as if it were yesterday, the moment my father place that box in my hands. He smiled and winked at me. I knew it was my baby, it had to be cuz my father winked at me. I opened that box, and my heart soared with love for the baby within that box. She was a Vogue Doll, not that I knew what that meant back then. She was perfect! She wore a blue dress with white poka-dots. Her hair was blonde and short, and she had a fishnet over her whole face and hair. I guess it was to hold it in place. She had dimples and long lashes, white bloomers and shoes and socks. I was in awe of how pretty she was. Ya could feed her a bottle and she would wet her diapers ya put on her. I NEVER fed her real water, just a pretend bottle. I called her Ginny, didn't know that was the name on the box.
(This is the closest picture I could find of her.)
Once Ginny was in my hands I didn't care about the other gifts under the tree, I was complete in that moment. Ginny and I were constantly together except for meal times. My mother didn't believe in toys outside our rooms. When it came to being away from Ginny I always placed her in the middle of my twin bed. Her head resting on my pillow and she would wait for my return. I wanted Ginny to get used to this routine because I would be going back to school when Christmas vacation was over. Wanted her to know I would return for her. I know childish thoughts, But hey I was only 7 1/2! Back when I was in school we had a 3 week break, So I was able to to have Ginny for 2 weeks before going back to school.
The day came to where I had to go to school. I woke up early and explained to Ginny Baby what I was gonna do. Got dressed, made my bed and laid Ginny Baby on the bed in her usual spot. My room was clean, I went downstairs had breakfast and left for school. When I returned from school I was in a good mood. I was gonna tell Ginny Baby about my day. That is until I walked in the front door!
In my house when ya come in ya say hi to my mother first, That is if ya allowed to. By that I mean if ya not met with a "Come here!" When that happened ya knew instantly ya were gonna get a beating. I don't mean the easy swat on the bottom. I mean the board which was 24 inches long and bore the name of every kid. She made ya get close to her and she hitcha wherever it landed. Then she grabbed ya close to her face and screamed, cursed atcha about what all she felt ya did wrong. Then it was a firm and loud "GET!" Her finger pointing to the upstairs. Which meant ya had to go to ya room. Now all this wouldn't have been so bad if the abuse ended there, but it didn't. The fact that ya just got the hell beat outta wasn't enough for her. The offended child then had to go to their room and leave the door open till the father got home. Then ya could hear her greet him with "J GET!" Her pointing her finger to the stairs for my father to see which childs door was open so he could administer more punishment with a belt 6 inches wide.
On this particular day, I came in from school got the "Come Here" and the beating, cursing, name calling. Told to go to my room and "Clean that ---- up!" I knew immediately what she did. I made it upstairs and was greeted with EVERYTHING I owned dumped in the middle of the room. When I say everything I mean everything. All pictures, bureau draws dumped out. The mattress and bed, etc... all of it in the middle of the floor. My mother was known to do this alot! Ya were to put ya room back in order then go back to her and ask her what ya did wrong. Why? So she could have her digs atcha again. I cleaned it all up, Took me awhile but I did it. But there was something wrong, I couldn't find my Ginny Baby! I searched everywhere. Then I knew my mother must have it. I crept downstairs to face her. I said "I'm sorry Ma, can ya please tell me what I did wrong"
She grabbed me close to her face and yelled at me for having a wrinkle in my bed. My bed was completely made up, yet it has a wrinkle in it! I replied with "I'm sorry Ma, I won't do it again. Could ya please tell me where my Ginny Baby is?" I don't think I should've asked her that. She grabbed the stick and beat me again. Then grabbed me by the hair and said "She's in the trash outside, And don't even think about going to get her!" That was my punishment for having a wrinkle in the bed. To top it off my father had to complete his punishment on me when he came home. I was sent to my room to wait for it.
Ever since then I've hated Christmas! I've never had a good one. I pretend I'm happy for the familys sake. But deep down it's never been the same. I believe my Christmas Magic was taken from me that day. I know this entry seems pointless and trivial to some who read this. But when ya child who has been abused lil things matter to ya. Ya see Ginny made my world a lil brighter. I was able to tell her about all the hurts done to me. The secrets that no one knew, she kept them for me. I know She was a piece of plastic! I know she had no feelings or couldn't talk etc... To a child who lives a life of ugliness any chance to find love is important. That's why I asked Santa for a "Doll Baby who need love" I knew Ginny Baby needed me as much as I needed her. At least in my lil 7 1/2 year old mind it made sense.
As an adult I know what I thought was utter nonsense. But it hurt to know I mattered nothing to my family except to be a personal punching bag, or some sexual object for the other family members.
I know there's a reason for everything. I wonder though why did I have to lose Ginny Baby out of everything in that room.
Why, WHY did she choose Ginny Baby to take away from me?
I'll never know the answer. A part of me keeps looking for Ginny Baby, I check online all the time. No Luck so far, I'll even settle for something similar.
I just know my Christmas' have never been the same since my Ginny Baby went away.
