The Year I Lost My Christmas Spirit
In general, I’m a happy person. I’ve always had natural tendencies toward optimism and joy. Last year at about this time, however, I was struggling with depression for the first time. It was a companion to the grief and burnout that had hit me during the summer, and it was followed by some intense anxiety. Because it was such a new thing for me, it scared me, and I didn’t know how to communicate my needs to others. By mid-December last year, I was in a dark enough place that my husband was worried that I may not make it out. Although I didn’t get to a place where I considered ending things, I know that if I had, I would have surprised everyone around me because they would not have seen it coming. In fact, when I finally broke down to my dad, he was surprised enough to say, “You’ve always been the strong one.” I’m grateful I finally confided in my husband, my dad, and my therapist so they could help me get through that darkness.
This time of year can be really tough for some people, so I’m sharing this in hopes that it helps others. Below are some of the warning signs that I was sending out during my depression last year and lessons as to what would have helped me in that time.
Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, and this advice is based on my personal experiences only. If you or someone you love is struggling, please seek professional help as well.
For context, I’ve always been a high achiever, and I’ve used my usefulness as a worthiness ruler too much in my life. Additionally, due to burnout, I was in a state of extreme exhaustion and was not capable of completing the achievements that I had spent so much of my life investing in. This created a perfect storm for the scenarios I describe below.
Warning Sign 1: Not engaging in things that they normally do
Christmas is one of my favorite times of year. I look forward to the campy Hallmark movies. I love the lights. I love the joy of giving. I love my family traditions and learning about the traditions of others. Also, I love my decorations. Over the years, I have been very selective in the decorations I’ve accumulated for Christmas because I use their symbolism to teach my children about the Christmas story. In many ways, putting up my decorations feels both sacred and joyous. When I get them all out, my house feels magical. Last year, however, I couldn’t bring myself to get them out. Eventually, my husband put some of them up, but neither of us could find the energy or motivation to get all of them up. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t bring myself to do this and wanted to hide away. I didn’t want people to witness that I couldn’t do as much as I usually do. When it came time for one of our family traditions, I tried to ask that not as many people come over to my home. I was blunt in my delivery and those family members eventually thought it meant I just wanted to be left alone. (I’ll speak more to this in my second warning sign). When I finally broke down to my dad it was because he had tried to talk to me about being a little “less intense” with everyone and that phrase had hurt me.
Tip: Check your biases and get curious
It took me a while to figure out why those words had hurt so much. I’ve learned that part of it was because of confirmation bias on my family’s end. To explain, when we see erratic behavior from someone, sometimes our brain takes shortcuts to try and explain it. We look for evidence in the past to support the fact that the behavior has happened before and then we have a tendency to blow that evidence out of proportion. With this distorted lens, we use that evidence to determine a fundamental characteristic of someone’s way of being instead of the truth which is that it was a simple behavior at that time.
I have had times in my life when I have been really intense. It’s something I have worked on a lot over the years (mostly for my own mental health and wellbeing). In this scenario, I was trying to hold a boundary. I was not being intense in terms of judgment or performance standards like I had been in the past. I was actually sending out a poorly communicated call for help. However, because of the mental shortcuts involved, I was seen as just being how I was in the past. This hurt for a multitude of reasons, the biggest of which was that my family had not acknowledged my change and growth over the years. Being in a dark place, I used this thought to add to my feelings of worthlessness. I wished that someone had questioned that bias for themselves and instead of assuming I was being intense, had simply asked me some questions as to why I didn’t want to have people over. So, if you see something that seems off about someone’s behavior, don’t first seek out proof that their behavior is some regular character flaw. Get curious instead and use a spirit of unconditional regard guide you in your interactions.
Warning Sign 2: Control Seeking and simplifying
I mentioned the boundaries I had attempted to set up. This was because I was trying to 1) ask for what I thought I needed (which I am NOT well practiced in) and 2) I was trying to control things in my world while everything else felt out of control. In the scenario earlier, I had asked to have fewer people come to my house because I didn’t want people to see that it wasn’t as magical as it had been in years past. Those family members initially took my request to mean that I needed help with set up. Full of good intentions and gusto, they came with a fixit mindset when I didn’t want fixers. I wanted less in my world so I could process it in a safer way. Instead, a big group showed up early, cleaned some of my home (which embarrassed me more), set up the activity, and then left really quickly because my face showed that I was spiraling. They thought I wanted to be alone. After this event, they held the subsequent events at a different location. Thinking that they didn’t want to burden me, they took away the entire event and didn’t have me help at all moving forward. The problem is, I did still want to be part of it. I internalized this whole experience to think that if I couldn’t do it all, I didn’t get to do any of it. Once again, this triggered my issues with believing that my worth was only as valuable as my usefulness.
Tip: Heard, Helped, or Hugged
Boundary setting, especially for people pleasers, is hard. This was another scenario where non-judgmental active listening would have been a big help for me. I’m grateful for my family’s good intentions. However, when it comes to good intentions, they don’t always result in good actions. It’s hard to know if the actions behind those intentions will be helpful if we haven’t listened first. Also, the way my family tried to take care of me left me feeling impotent when I really needed a few wins. This is where biases toward performance and action can be really dangerous. I learned a question in my emotional intelligence class that I hope to use more as a way to figure out why kind of help will actually be helpful in the moment. She counseled us to ask, “Do you need to be heard, helped, or hugged?” Helping when someone needs one of the other two can be more harmful than helpful. I wonder how the story would have changed if instead of trying to fix me someone was willing to listen or comfort me.
Warning Sign 3: Keeping things surface level
This one can be one of the hardest of them all to notice because it is hard to see what is masking versus when someone is genuinely happy. Throughout the season last year, I learned very quickly that if I answered the question “How are you?” with something that wasn’t positive, the asker would get visibly uncomfortable. Often, the asker would lean back, look away, and talk faster- signaling they wanted to disconnect from the conversation. For someone who has issues with people pleasing (which is also now being termed by some psychologists as rejection sensitivity dysphoria), I took this to mean that sharing my struggles was not socially acceptable. So, instead of sharing, I masked up and bottled it up. This is scary because I know I was a good enough actor that I could convince people nothing was wrong. I also purposefully kept all my conversations to trivial, surface level topics. No one knows you’re struggling if you never let them get deep enough to see it. If you try asking a question that goes deeper, you may see the person try to avoid or give superficial answers because they are not sure if you are someone they can trust with the hard stuff. They may not be ready to share, and that’s ok. It takes time for someone to know if they can trust you with their ugly stuff. Do all that you can to show you’re worthy of that trust.
Tip: Be ok that they’re not ok
I shared my burnout story in my public speaking class earlier this year and one of my classmates asked me how he could support another friend who was going through the same thing. The advice I gave him is the same advice I have here. Be ok with sitting with them in their discomfort. One of the scariest parts of my depression experience was that I felt invisible. I was doing everything I could think of to “fix myself” and I wasn’t magically doing better. I didn’t want people to hold me accountable to goals or to pat me on the back while telling me “everything will work out.” I wanted to know that those I cared about most would still love me if I wasn’t ok. That I was worth being in their presence if I couldn’t muster the energy to smile or laugh like I used to. I needed someone who was willing to patiently hold a safe space so I could feel the uncomfortable things I needed to face. I’m grateful for the small circle of people who were willing to sit with me and I’m grateful I’m doing better now.
With my goal of being a life-long learner, I’m hoping my own experience with depression will help me be better at supporting those in my life that may be struggling. I know that in the last year I have learned a lot about the power of slowing down. When I was struggling, it felt like everyone else was too busy to help. I know I’ve too often been guilty of being too busy and allowing that busy-ness or a sense of urgency to blind me to seeing the needs of others. My experience has helped motivate me to slow down. Learning, growing, and supporting takes time and patience. It also doesn’t move in a simple straight line. There are setbacks and side quests. I’ve also learned that listening is more effective and efficient for true success than my former penchant for problem solving. A fixing mindset that drives overenthusiastic action rarely is as helpful as I think it will be. I’ve come to realize that good listening takes less time than I think it will and the power of connection that happens when you truly listen is an outcome you cannot get any other way. Also, I’ve learned that listening gives me the opportunity to be less than perfect as a giver because listening helps me focus less on the destination or outcome I think should be addressed and instead encourages me to walk hand in hand in the direction of the person I’m listening to.
For Christmas this year, I hope we all open our hearts to slowing down, getting curious, and using unconditional regard to listen to those in our lives. These small things can make all the difference for someone who is struggling.
Thanks for reading and sitting in a hard space with me. I hope you are feeling joy this time of year and if not, that you are open to finding the right support. I know it made all the difference for me.
Warmest wishes and holiday greetings.