XMas & Nicotine

I had no idea.

I truly had no idea the depth of issues I have with the holiday season.
I am in a Christmas play. I'm the token Jew in the Avantguardians' "DaDa XMas". I was fine with the idea of singing altered XMas carols, and telling classic XMas stories in some DaDa/AvantGuard/Abstract way. Tom and Lisa have great ideas and I love the creative process of developing a show with them. I assumed the content would be irrelevant and that the process would be the point.

The trigger was our conversation about whether or not Christmas is a religious holiday. My opinion is that since it's based on a Christian construct about the fake birthday of Christ and some stolen Pagan rites and symbolism, it's a religiously-based holiday. It's a Christian holiday. Jews don't celebrate Christmas unless they have someone Christian in their family or unless they've developed some elaborate explanation of why celebrating Christmas is allowed even though they're really still Jews. Really. Muslims don't celebrate Christmas either (see above). Christmas is intrinsically Christian. It's about Christ. The name of the holiday even contains the dear Baby Jesus' last name, or whatever that is. Ok - not his last name, but the name by which Baby Jesus is alternatively known.

Tom and Lisa vehemently deny that Christmas is a Christian holiday, citing the examples of Pagan symbols and the inescapable conspicuous consumption of modern-day American XMas. Though I attempted to explain why Christmas is nonetheless a Christian holiday, they could not understand, or refused to agree with my reasoning. During the whole discussion I was surprised by my emotional reaction. I became rather upset and frustrated.

What the hell is frustrating about a difference of opinion among friends? I think I felt betrayed in a way. My friends and art-colleagues don't share my point of view and suddenly I was alone at the table arguing a point about which I was so clearly right, in my mind. My friends and art-colleagues are not religious, so their position is not founded upon any scriptural theory or some covert, open-armed-personal-saviour effort at converting me. Not only was I surprised at my own reaction, I was surprised that Tom and Lisa didn't immediately agree with me. The conversation then involved whether or not this was a "Jew thing" and I was being oversensitive or even paranoid.

"You're not paranoid if they really are after you, " I said to them.

"Exactly," Tom nodded.

Added to the mix is the fact that I quit smoking a few days ago and have cycling homicidal and suicidal ideations. Quitting closet smoking seems to have magnified these issues as well as my obsessions with everything else in life that could possibly be a source of depression. Who knew that two or three cigarettes a day could be so addictive? Who knew that removing such a small amount of some brain-altering chemical would have such a dramatic effect on my affect?


If smoking wasn't stinky and carcinogenic I probably wouldn't bother quitting. I've thought about continuing to smoke through the holidays, just out of spite. The question is - out of spite for whom? Plus, it will be just as difficult to quit in 2007 as it has been this horrid week of 2006. Maybe I could ask my shrink to add some nicotine to the daily dose of happy pills I ingest. Can you add tobacco to brownies?

Quitting smoking feels remarkably like going through a bad PMS day. Everything seems more irritating, and more urgent than usual. By January I will have forgotten all about the descriminatory practices of the Christmas revellers. During PMS days it's not that my issues are made up, it's just that they seem so IMPORTANT and overwhelming. So if I'm short on money, it seems like I'm BROKE and I'm NEVER going to have ANYTHING and might have to go on food stamps or welfare soon, and I'll never get to go on a vacation again, and my bills will never be paid....

Currently, my withdrawal symptoms are causing me to hate Christmas because I'm sure I'm permanently inadequate for my inability to buy the right presents. The nicotine-deprived voices in my head are also telling me that our Fundamentalist Christian culture is against me and it will only get worse. I'll probably end up in prison for not conforming. I'll have to become a handmaiden and have some rich Christian wife's children. No, actually, I'm too old. They'll just hang me as an example for the others. In fact, I'm too old to really make much of myself in this life, with or without the Fundamentalist Christian Handmaiden dilemma. It's too late. Oh, woe is me.... Alas... blah, blah, blah.

So that's the path my withdrawing neurons walk today. On the up-side, I have almost completed my first crocheted scarf. Red. A little bumpy and uneven. I'll say I meant it to look that way. Right now, though, I'm insanely craving just a little, itsy, bitsy, teenie, weeny, bitty, baby puff of a cigarette. Just one more. Just one more time.

"Jane says... Gonna kick tomorrow...." to quote Perry Farrell.