The HoLiDaYs approach...

This morning, my daughter informed me that this is her least favorite time of year because the only thing to look forward to after Halloween is Thanksgiving and that’s “forever away.” I chuckled. For a kid, the holiday season does seem far off. For grown ups tasked with managing the next 8 weeks (of days off from school, meal planning, gift buying, charitable giving, travel, family dynamics, fill in the blank), the approaching holiday season can feel daunting at best.

This isn’t going to be one of those self-help, well-meaning, “do less, enjoy more” kind of blog posts. There are many of those, and I hope they’re helpful to you. This is more about when it’s hard to do less and enjoy more. This is about the anxiety that the holidays can bring up and the rush that these last two months can feel like. This is about how to make it through with a little of the joy that is demanded of us, if a lot of joy feels like a bridge too far.

I would love to say that I’m good at slowing down and reflecting during this season but that would be a lie. It is not my natural state to slow down; in fact, I want to fill every minute with JOY and MEMORIES and GRATITUDE. Most of us feel that way as the season ramps up, I think. There is a pressure mixed with the joy: to be happy, to do good, to see everyone. The approaching season feels like it wants us to end the year in utter exhaustion.

And maybe we will, despite our best efforts. But we can also choose to not get swallowed whole by stress and grief and anxiety. We can choose to view the shortening days and longer evenings as times to be still and quiet, alone or with others. We can be the light for each other in the simplest ways: shared meals, shared memories, shared time. We can view the holidays as a season to enjoy and reflect, rather than one to slog through with a plastered-on smile. For some of us, that might mean saying no more; for others it might be about saying yes, to invitations and yes, to “good” stress.

However you approach the march through the end of the year, I hope you can remember that it is only a season. It may be harder or easier than last year’s; it may be slower or longer than next year’s. However it happens or feels to you, it is temporary. I hope you find the joy in that; it’s what I’ll be trying to do.

Holiday Disappointment

The prevailing sentiment from my clients after Thanksgiving was a hearty “meh.” The holiday was fine, but not great. It was something to get through, not necessarily something enjoyable or special. It was, all in all, disappointing.

It’s hard to admit that The Holidays can be a disappointing time. After all, we’re told over and over that this is a season of GRATITUDE and JOY and DELIGHT and if you aren’t feeling those things, the problem must be you because it’s THE HOLIDAYS and you have to be HAPPY and ENJOY them. In short, The Holidays are a time of pressure.

Which is not to say you can’t have a lovely holiday season in spite of that. In fact, I hope you do! But I also want to encourage you that in the midst of the sparkle and tinsel and treats, you are allowed to feel lonely, disappointed, angry, etc. In short, you are allowed to have all the feelings, not just the happy ones.

It’s not easy to manage the disappointment or sadness or loneliness that is plaguing you as the radio shouts Christmas carols at you and stores demand you spend all the money you have in the name of MaGiC. But it is doable. As The Holidays march towards us like a smiling but threatening wave, try to focus on what actually brings you peace and joy. Reach out to friends and family while also avoiding people who cause you distress or unease. Indulge in treats without self-recrimination and guilt. Do what you’re capable of doing, whether that be celebrating or gift-giving or visiting or decorating, without thinking it’s not enough. Whatever you’re doing to get through this season is enough. The Holidays do not have to be perfect; they just are and they too shall pass. Hang in.

Holiday creep

A colleague of mine recently referred to this time of year as the therapist Olympics. Most of our clients are a little more… unhinged than usual. Rightly so! Days are shorter and colder. Families of origin repeat patterns that range from frustrating to harmful. Sobriety is tested. Finances are tight. Grief is magnified. Caregiving is harder than usual. Basically The Holidays amplifies whatever was already difficult to navigate. While the culture at large insists upon sparkle and glamor and gratitude and consumerism and food and booze in excess, some of us are struggling. 

There are any number of lists out there about how to combat the holiday blues. Of course I agree with most of them: be mindful of how much you're drinking; keep moving your body; make time for yourself, etc. But I also want to add my usual caveat: it's ok to be struggling. In fact, many people are at this time of year. I bet if you admit to someone close to you (or even someone in line at the grocery store honestly) that you aren't filled with joy right now, they would agree. You’re not alone if you’re not feeling sparkly.

If you feel like you are alone in those feelings, it's tempting to self isolate. People are often afraid of spreading their anxiety or sadness to others and instead opt to keep it to themselves. Sometimes time alone does help, and if that helps you, go nuts. But also remember that distress and grief and anxiety are better shared with others. It lightens the load to let someone else know that you aren't filled with the Spirit of the Season. It's ok if holidays are a tough time for you; they’re tough for a lot of us. Take a chance and let someone know you need support. 

(Also make sure you keep your appointment with your therapist).

Find the light

It has been literally quite dark the past few days here in the Philly suburbs. Between the rain and the time of year, the sun feels like a distant memory at the moment. However! It is also the holiday season, which means there is (other) light everywhere. There are intricate light displays on homes and businesses. There are sparkles and sequins in shop windows. There can be candlelight. There is brightness to combat the dark.

You don’t have to celebrate a religious holiday this time of year to bask in the glow. Light can be found and celebrated without having to subscribe to Christmas or Hanukkah. It can be found in being with others; in volunteering your time or money (if you have it to give); in window shopping; in fancy light displays or wandering through your neighborhood. In the cold, wet winter—when it is mostly dark and often difficult because of grief or family or winter blues or any number of other things—I want to remind you that you deserve some light. If you can’t find it, create it. If that’s beyond you right now, ask someone else to help. And remember, darkness passes.

Have a joyful holiday season—and if that’s beyond you as well, just get through it. Wishing you all light and lightness as we enter the new year.

"The second year is harder" and other difficult truths about grief

I’ve written before about grief not having an end date. It’s a nebulous, unpredictable process. That’s because each of us experiences grief in different ways and on different timelines. That being said, we can expect certain periods to be universally hard during the bereavement process: the first birthday of your lost loved one, for instance, or the first holiday season. After a death (or a divorce or another kind of ending), there is a whole year of firsts to wade through. That first year can feel full of landmines—but also full of the comforts of reminiscing and tradition-keeping. There can be some sweetness in our loss, some celebrating of the birthday or the holiday, a heavy reliance on really marking the tough days. And there is a kind of relief in getting through that first long year.

Then the second year hits.

You would think the second year would be easier. And in some ways it is; time does heal, after all. But in other ways, the second year is a reminder of the finality of your loss. People prepare for that first year to be difficult but they aren’t necessarily prepared for the second year to hit so hard.

This sounds like bad news. But remember, your grieving process is not something to get over. Grief is a reminder of how deeply we loved someone; that love doesn’t just disappear. This holiday season, whether it’s your first or second or tenth with someone missing, don’t hide from your grief. Take some time to honor your losses—in big ways or small, whatever feels natural to you. And remember, you don’t have to do it alone.

Happiest holidays to you, even if they are a little tougher this year.