Anyone Else Hate Holidays?

Only Me?

It’s Good Friday. Almost everyone’s enjoying a day off, maybe preparing a ham and spending time with family. I am not. My first question is, what’s so damn good about it?

I’m just going to come right out and say it. I hate holidays! Don’t like them, don’t want them. Never did, not even as a kid.

Sure, I looked forward to the big ones, Christmas and Easter. I accepted the gifts and enjoyed them. I ate all the food. And then, meh.

I’ve wondered why I dislike them so much. I mean who doesn’t like a day off? Except for me, it’s not. Is that it? Is it because I write full-time and am no longer chained to a 9 to 5 that I despise legislated days off?

That’d be the most obvious reason, but no. I hated holidays throughout my working life and school years.

Could it be the religious nature of many of them? As an atheist, I don’t attach any significance to any one day over another, aside from maybe my birthday.

No. I don’t begrudge any believers their right to celebrate their observances.

It’s something else. It’s me. I think it must be an autism thing, or at least that’s what I’m going to chalk it up to. The truth is, I hate holidays because they disrupt my routine.

I’m a creature of habit. I sit in the same place on the couch every day. I drink my coffee out of the same mug despite having a cupboard filled with dozens of perfectly serviceable ones. I always use the same glass and will only drink cold drinks from actual glass glasses, not plastic. You get the idea.

I don’t handle my routine being interrupted well. And I hate options being removed from me, even in theory. That’s the problem.

Holidays remove options. I may not want to go shopping. I hate shopping, so more than likely I don’t want to go. But I do like knowing that the stores are there and open should I feel the need.

I have no need to go to the bank or post office or any office at all. But again, I like the option of being available on days they usually are.

The absence of the option gives me an uneasy feeling, a sort of free-floating anxiety that makes the day drag by. It’s like a slow march through the mud with mosquitoes buzzing around my head as I wait for the world to right itself.

I know I sound like a spoiled brat. I can intellectualize it. That doesn’t stop how I feel though. I’m not the Grinch; I’m just autistic. And I hate holidays.

Anyone else?

If you enjoy my work and would like to support me in doing what I love, please consider buying me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/mistyrae