Holidaze

As pumpkin spice mania is reaching critical mass and most of the public spaces around me are extravagantly decorated for Christmas (because collectively we still haven’t clued in to the fact that there are dozens of other religious holidays at this time of year--but that’s a separate post), I feel the urge to offer a public service reminder. While some people are eagerly anticipating “the most wonderful time of the year”, there are others who are dreading and assiduously avoiding what for them is a gateway to hell. Having been a member of the latter group for the majority of my life, I feel qualified to share a few observations and compelled to offer a few suggestions.

My holiday blues began early. It was supposed to be such a special, happy time, and yet, in my experience it was invariably marred by the disappointment, anger, and chaos around me. Years of hoping that this year would be different, that as a family we’d revel in the true meaning of the holidays rather than get twisted into a psychotic frenzy by hyperactivity and materialism, eventually gave way to pessimistic resignation. Seasonal depression, not recognized in my youth, didn’t help. I held my breath and prayed that we’d get through it with a minimum of the pyrotechnics seen in previous years.

After leaving home, a few major life events conspired to strengthen my aversion to this time of year.

When I was a young adult, the man I’d planned to marry died in an accident in early December. This is also the time of year that my daughter was diagnosed with her first chronic illness, and that my marriage imploded. And while I have outwardly healed from the worst of all that, it’s as if my body remembers, regardless of whether I consciously do (maybe it’s not a coincidence that the two major orthopedic repairs I’ve undergone occurred, you guessed it, just after the holidays).

In my years of active motherhood, you’d never have had an inkling that I struggled around the holidays. I wanted my children to experience what I never had, and providing that for them, knowing we were creating precious memories, brought me real joy. But two things can be true at the same time (something I wouldn’t learn for years), so even as I savored these happy times with my children, I carried those twinges of sorrow with me. I was also still competing for my Olympic medal in people pleasing in those days, so I met every unrealistic expectation of my extended family at great expense to myself, and sometimes to my children. This was the perfect recipe for resentment and ultimately reinforced and increased my feelings that I’d prefer monthly gum surgery to dealing with the holidays.

Now it’s just me and the Celtic Warrior Princess, which makes things easy and enjoyable (if not always socially acceptable). This was initially an adjustment. After all, is it really a holiday if you’re not battling, a la Hunger Games, for mental and physical survival? It took just a few peaceful times, though, to relish the quiet, which has had the added benefit of allowing me the space to figure out how to take care of myself at a difficult time. This, in turn, has led to my enthusiastic embrace of the parts of the season that I do appreciate.

For those of you who find the holidays a challenge, for whatever reason, here are some things that I’ve found helpful:

Don’t pretend. If it’s a tough time of year for you, own it. Pretending to enjoy it like everyone else and/or chastising yourself for lacking the holiday spirit makes it all so much gloomier. You can acknowledge your feelings without wallowing in them. And you don’t owe anyone a performance.

Shore up your boundaries. This is key for both boundaries around what you need and around what you share. If you need to skip an event for your own mental health, be forthright and resolute. This does not mean that you have to explain yourself; very few people have earned the right to your innermost thoughts. I’ve learned through experience that a short version of “I’ve decided I’ll be doing X this year” saves a lot of angst, rumination, and argument, even if there is initially pushback.

Simplify. Adding the overwhelm of too many obligations and activities will exacerbate your tendency to struggle at this time of year. Streamline gift buying and decorating and entertaining. Build in time for emotional rest.

Connect carefully. Make sure to spend time, even if it’s virtually, with your inner circle, the people who truly see and love you. As much as possible, avoid spending time with those who drain or disrespect you.

Create new rituals. There is something so comforting about ritual. And it can be magical to recreate childhood rituals with your own children. Maybe you didn’t have any happy childhood rituals, though, or maybe they were tarnished by dysfunction. Creating rituals of your own can sneak a little joy into a difficult time and contribute to healing. And they don’t have to be big: two of my favorites are creating a paper gratitude chain at Thanksgiving and driving through a Christmas light show. This December we will check out Christmas-themed mini golf to see if it should be added to our repertoire.

For those of you who are dealing with someone who seems to be channeling Scrooge or who is otherwise struggling, a few suggestions:

Truly connect. If you’re far away, instead of a photocopied Christmas letter or a card with just your signature, think about a personal note or a call or even a text. Something that lets the person know that you are thinking about them specifically and that you value them enough to take action.

Be inclusive. If you’re near, show that you care by remembering them. Give a call to check in, even if they are a bit of an Eeyore. Issue a no-pressure invitation even though it may be declined. Resist the urge to write them off as a lost cause. You never know when the tide will turn.

Respect differences. Please be very careful about presuming that your happy situation is the norm that others should be striving toward. There are people who are grieving loss or estrangement. There are people grappling with depression. There are those who can’t stand a party and those who have no party to attend. Don’t assume anything.

Whether you’re feeling avoidant or celebratory or somewhere in between, my wish for you this holiday season is peace and well-being.