Preface: I wrote this beginning a few days before Thanksgiving. The sadness while writing this overwhelmed me, and I could only write a few sentences over a small period of time. It is now February 14, 2020, and I decided to finish this.
It’s that time of year again: the pressure of showing holiday cheer. The burden mounts when you must interact with the public and fellow employees at work. This strain builds up as the days draw nearer to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve until my emotions will explode into mindblowing sadness. Some years are easier to deal with than others but, unfortunately, I can’t anticipate the severeness of my depression. My coping skills are dependent when Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Year’s Eve arrive. On the “day,” by then, it’s too late for me to react positively; I will either sink or swim.
There are countless studies relating to depression and the holidays. For a person without depression, stress and anxiety exist in hopes that everything will be perfect, beautiful memories will be made, the food is plentiful, the cleaning, shopping, and entertaining. The expectation that the well thought out gifts are well received. There are also family and financial issues. There are travel issues and the inablility to be around family and friends. All these additional stressors face our daily lives during the holidays and we struggle to cope. Add a diagnosis of depression to the mix, and it seems unbearable.
There are hundreds of articles, tv segments, blogs, etc. this time of year, on how to cope with pressures of the holiday season. Having read these articles for years, I have not seen a single suggestion different from years past: take time for yourself, learn to say no, create a budget, set realistic expectations. The list goes on. For me, depression and the holidays take on a whole new meaning. I feel worthless, tired, sad, fat, and ugly. The worst part of holidays and depression for me is coming across as a Debbie Downer around other people, including family. It scares me to know that I have to act a certain way. I have to be happy. It seems no one in my family understands or cares to understand that one can’t make happiness happen just because it is a holiday.
Today, I am dealing with the imminent Thanksgiving holiday and my adult son. I have not seen him for three months. He lives less than 2 hours away from me. He rarely visits, and I have horrible anxiety driving, so I am dependent upon him coming to me. I know he feels pressured to visit me on a major holiday. I also feel he doesn’t want to be around me because of my depressive symptoms, even when it is not a holiday. I don’t blame him to an extent, but the pressure would be so much less for me if he visited on what is not considered a holiday. Often, over the last few years, he has visited mostly before or after a holiday. I suppose I should feel grateful when he has made the effort to visit on the holi”day” itself, but all I feel is that it is something he feels he must do, and that makes me feel horrible. Ultimately, the time we spend together feels forced. That makes me feel sad.
My son neither called or showed up for Thanksgiving or Christmas. How I made it through each of those days, I cannot tell you. I slept in as late as possible and went to bed as early as possible. The pain of missing the presence of my son was almost unbearable. Luckily, I have a fairly new puppy so he forced me to get out of the house for some fresh air. We spent a few hours at a deserted beach. At least I got out.
My birthday has also now come and gone, and, again, my son did not come home. He sent me a package that included a heartfelt book where he had to fill in the blanks about why he loves his mom. As much as I treasure the book and the time he took to fill it out, questions arise of how our special birthday celebrations had come to this.
I Want My Happy Back 