Holiday Weekend Reminders
After over a decade of managing mental illness through this season, here is what I've learned.
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Whether you’re a big celebrator or feel absolute groaning distress over the holidays, the pressure to “be on” this time of year is overwhelming.
I’ve spent years managing myriad of mental illness, and hands down this time of year is the most trying.
Regardless of what I had focused on healing in the year before (or was still battling silently with), I felt the annual crush of “damn I am still as fucked up as last year.”
The immense pressure to be joyful, spend forced time with family or friends, cram in meet ‘n greets, eat or drink things I normally wouldn’t choose to (but felt guilty denying), buy presents with the money I didn’t have, converse about topics that triggered me, or simply feel like a powerless child is taxing.
Year in and out, I’d relapse in my ED, tolerate poor family boundaries with booze, cry alone between parties, and round the year up with a solo pity party on my birthday (my birthday is December 29th, smack dab in the season to be jolly.)
After getting divorced, the annual crush included all new characters like “I’m still single” and “I really must be hard to love.”
This year, I’m reminded of the work I’ve done each season to try again. That I’ve set some hard boundaries, tried new ways to cope, and bolstered my support system. That even though I still feel the annual crush, I’m not the same.
Here is what I’ve learned about managing the holidays:
No amount of preparation creates perfection.
The most valuable approach to high-stress environments is one where personal & interpersonal expectations are vastly tempered.
Carve out alone time.
Let discomfort, triggers, overwhelm, & anxiety be teachers. Don’t try to learn the lesson now. Cut yourself some slack & simply take note. Think “shit this hurts right here, adding that to the log for later!”
Celebrate small wins. You’re a person, not a machine. Stuff will go wrong. Focus on what’s going right. Your ship will sail a lot longer.
Apathy and distain are allowed. Sometimes it’s hard as hell to find gratitude or joy when everyone else seems to have so much. Sit with your frustrations or lack of feelings. Talk to someone about it. Conversation built from honesty might break open your disdain and show you what’s inside. Or it won’t. But at least you’re showing up real.
Take one thing off your list. Let go, a little. Not entirely, not all the way, just some. Give yourself permission to go just one inch less.
Imagine your family and friends as having as much anxiety, expectation, or grief as you. Imagine a world where they’re longing for more genuine connection & to share their growth & pain. Imagine that in the span of time that has passed since last season, they might have more capacity & desire to know you, and for you to know them. How might you show up? And how much are you still hiding?
No matter what, know that you cannot fail. This doesn’t mean you or the time from now until Jan 1 will be perfect—that’s not what lack of failure means to me. What I mean is you aren’t a failure if shit goes wrong. If you don’t meet your or others expectations. If you’re triggered or stressed or fall back into old patterns. You’re not a failure. You’re not the same. You’re just a big beautiful messy human like the rest of us.
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“I hope you show up before you’re ready. I hope you show up messy. I hope, more than anything, you show up.”