I love the feeling of frosty air in early winter and I love the aesthetic qualities of the holiday season; glittering trees in front windows and sidewalks glowing from the myriad of lights really can look magical. But when I’m meandering through the aisles of a store while Andy Williams’s classic tune “It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year” plays over the intercom, my inner voice would rather be humming along to Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas.”
The holiday season can feel less than wonderful for a wide array of reasons. It’s likely the worst part of your year if it’s not a happy time for you, because of the pressure to plaster on a fake smile when everyone else around you seems to be at their happiest. There’s an undeniable cultural and commercial association between the holidays and personal relationships, both familial and romantic, so any strife in those areas are often highlighted. If you’ve lost a close loved one who’s presence used to define your holidays, like a family member or long-term partner, all you notice on a holiday is how different it is without them. The depth of loss feels overwhelmingly amplified by memories of the joyous occasions you used to share with them. All you see is their empty place at the dinner table, their stocking missing from the mantle or their painful absence from the first day of your new year.
Something that seems to get even less attention in our society is the stress and exhaustion of the holiday season when shouldering the burden of physical or mental illness. Whether you’re watching a family member struggle or you’re struggling yourself, the expectation of upholding holiday cheer starts to feel so emotionally taxing that it becomes an unbearable chore. It’s nearly impossible to enjoy the decorations, festivities and traditions that you once loved when your holiday is overshadowed with dread and depression or physical pain.
Or, maybe you just have a difficult family situation. Maybe your relatives are cold, toxic or dysfunctional, and your relationship with them is strained, distant or nonexistent entirely. Maybe a parent just got remarried and your new blended family members are cruel to you, or spending the holidays with them is just too uncomfortable for you to tolerate because it feels so unnatural and you yearn for a home that’s long gone. When you’re surrounded by friends and peers that can’t wait to be home for the holidays, you can’t help but feel isolated by the dread of visiting a home that doesn’t feel like one, or the emptiness of spending the holidays alone if you don’t have a family home at all.
I’ve now suffered through several holiday seasons without my dad, but it still hasn’t gotten any easier. Even though grief no longer affects my daily life (for the most part,) this time of year is when it comes flooding back in full force. No one did Christmas like my Dad did. He made a giant wreath with a synchronized light pattern that would’ve humbled Clark Griswold, and not a single bulb was ever unlit on his 20-foot tree, adorned with little green motors that spun my antique ballerina ornaments round and round in their suspended pirouettes. In our kitchen window bay, he would spend an entire day meticulously arranging his winter village of hand-painted shops and Victorian houses on its custom-built, fake snow-covered platform, complete with mirrors cut in pond shapes and a mountain tunnel that a model train ran through. Without him, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore.
I know that loss is a part of life, and I’m sure I’ll enjoy the holiday season again someday. But right now, it’s still hard for me. From one sad elf to another, here’s my advice for surviving the least wonderful time of the year if that’s what this season is for you.
If you’re grieving:
- Let yourself feel the pain of loss—don’t run from it. Remember that it hurts until it doesn’t.
- It has helped me to carry on my Dad’s traditions. If there was something they did to make your holidays special, try to recreate it; hang up their decorations the way they used to, follow their recipes, listen to their favorite seasonal music, continue their holiday rituals.
- Confront the memories because they’re not going anywhere. But when you feel ready, take a step back to take in whom and what you still have around you. Try to let the gifts of the present fill some of the void they’ve left behind.
If a loved one is ill:
- Submerge yourself in meaningful distractions through the process of making happy memories. Do things for/with them that bring them joy. Especially the small, simple things.
- I know this sounds cliché, but if it looks like it will be their last holiday, cherish the time you have left. You’ll have the rest of your life to grieve. Don’t start prematurely.
- That being said, it’s okay to acknowledge the bittersweetness. Practice your personal catharsis. Write, paint, take a walk, breathe.
If you are ill:
- Direct your energy to the sources of your strength. You know the things that help you best, and now is the time to immerse yourself in those things.
- Take care of yourself. Preserve yourself. You don’t owe anyone your time, company or energy if the transaction leaves you wilted. If it’s too hard to keep faking that smile, excuse yourself. Get some air, take some time, give yourself space. Defend what you need and how you feel, and don’t let anyone invalidate it.
If your home isn’t a happy one:
- Weigh your options. Consider how you’d feel if you spent the holidays alone, or with a friend or significant other. Don’t feel obligated to keep ties with your toxic family members just because they’re still alive, especially if those ties come at a great cost to your mental and emotional health. You have to put yourself first when others don’t.
- If you still want to be there for the holiday despite dysfunction or difficulties, try to stay for as little time as possible. Know your limits and leave as soon as you feel them being tested. I’m going to my mom’s house on Christmas Eve and driving back to mine on Christmas Day. That’s the best I can do right now, and the best you can do is all you can do.
If you’re spending the holidays alone:
- Make a happy home for yourself where you are now, with what you have. Buy a mini Christmas tree or Menorah. Hang some strings of lights and maybe some garland. Light a festive candle and put on your favorite holiday movies. Homes come and go. You were home back then, and you are home right now.
- You know those hobbies you loved to spend time on but had to give up due to the demands of school, work and social life? Now is the perfect time to revisit those.
- Don’t just treat yourself, spoil yourself. Buy that half dozen of Krispy Kreme that you always eye from the check-out line but talk yourself out of, and eat it in bed. Buy yourself the Christmas present you’ve always wanted but never felt like you could ask for. Don’t wallow—indulge. The difference is all in your self-talk.
Above all, be strong and remember that it’ll be over before you know it, and find comfort in knowing you’re not alone with these feelings.