Here we are again. November. The beginning of the holiday season, and I find myself wishing I could simply skip the next couple of months. I know that probably sounds terrible to people who love this time of year, but I have never quite known what to do with the holidays. There are too many memories, too many associations, and too much hurt connected to days that are supposed to be filled with happiness. Every year I think perhaps this year will feel different, and every year I find myself wondering how I am going to navigate Thanksgiving and Christmas without becoming overwhelmed by everything those holidays seem to bring back.
I have my girls and their families for Christmas this year, and I am looking forward to being with them. That is something I genuinely want. November is a little less certain. I have invitations to both of their homes for Thanksgiving, which is lovely, and I am grateful that they want me there. But I haven't decided what I am going to do. Maybe I will be recovering from surgery by then. Maybe I won't. At this point, I don't even know whether I will have had one of the surgeries, which is becoming another source of frustration.
I am still trying to get my Medicare Part B reinstated, and until that happens, I cannot move forward with either surgery. I have a knee that needs attention and an ankle that needs attention, and I am dealing with insurance paperwork instead. I understand that there are procedures and requirements, but understanding them does not make the situation any less frustrating. I am tired of waiting, tired of being physically limited, and tired of trying to arrange my life around medical care that I cannot yet schedule. I had hoped to have at least some of this behind me before the holidays. Now I am not sure what will happen.
Perhaps that uncertainty is making the holidays feel even heavier this year. I don't particularly want to make plans, and I don't want to make a big deal out of Thanksgiving or Christmas. I would rather just continue with my usual days, work on my projects, write, read, and let the calendar move along without requiring anything special from me. That probably sounds rather unenthusiastic, but it is how I feel.
I think what makes this time of year so difficult is the expectation that holidays are supposed to mean something wonderful. Family. Belonging. Traditions. Being wanted. Being included. Those are beautiful things, and I know many people have memories that make them look forward to November and December. My memories are more complicated. Thanksgiving and Christmas have associations with rejection and hurt that I have never quite managed to separate from the holidays themselves.
Rejection is an interesting thing to carry into adulthood. I can know intellectually that I am loved and wanted by my daughters and their families, and still find myself feeling the sadness of earlier experiences. I can receive invitations and still have that old feeling of not quite belonging. I don't think that means I am ungrateful or that I don't appreciate the family I have now. It simply means the memories are still there, and this time of year seems particularly good at bringing them to the surface.
I sometimes wonder why I feel as though I need to do something about that. Why do I feel that I should make the holidays better, create new traditions, find a way to enjoy them, or somehow turn them into something meaningful? Maybe I don't need to do any of those things. Maybe I can simply acknowledge that this is a difficult season for me without turning it into another project that needs to be fixed.
That is not to say I don't want new memories. I do. I love spending time with my daughters and their families, and I am grateful for the lives they have built. I enjoy being part of those lives. But I don't necessarily need the calendar to tell me when those moments should be important. A regular afternoon with my family can mean just as much to me as a holiday gathering. Sometimes it means more because there isn't the same weight of expectation attached to it.
I think I have spent much of my life trying to understand why certain experiences continue to affect me when so much time has passed. I have done the work. I continue doing the work. I have written about reclaiming months, learning to trust myself, allowing myself to matter, and becoming the woman I believe God created me to be. Yet here I am, facing another holiday season and feeling some of the same sadness. I suppose healing doesn't require every difficult association to disappear, although I admit I would appreciate it if a few more of them did.
There is also something about being physically limited right now that makes everything feel a little more vulnerable. I am accustomed to taking care of myself, making plans, moving around, and figuring things out. Now I am waiting for insurance, waiting for surgery, and wondering how much help I will need. My daughter and her family have been generous with their support, and I am grateful. Still, I would prefer to be the one who decides where I go and what I do without having to consider whether my knee or ankle will cooperate.
Maybe that is why the idea of simply skipping the holidays is appealing. I don't want to have to decide how I should feel. I don't want to force myself to celebrate something that brings sadness, and I don't want to feel guilty because I am not particularly enthusiastic. I would like to spend time with the people I love, continue working on the things that matter to me, and allow the season to pass without making it more complicated than it already feels.
I don't know what Thanksgiving will look like this year. I may be with one of my daughters, or I may be recovering from surgery. I may decide that I would rather have a quiet day. Christmas feels a little more settled because I know I will have time with my girls and their families, and that is something I can anticipate with genuine happiness, even if the holiday itself remains complicated.
Perhaps the part I am still learning is that I don't have to make the holidays into something they have never been for me. I can appreciate the invitations without feeling obligated to manufacture excitement. I can enjoy my family without pretending that the sadness isn't there. I can acknowledge the memories of rejection without allowing them to determine every experience I have now.
Or perhaps I will simply get through November and see how I feel when December arrives. That may be the most realistic plan I have at the moment, especially considering that Medicare and two surgeries are still occupying a rather large portion of my attention.
I wish the holidays felt different. I really do. But I also don't want to spend another season feeling that I have failed because I cannot make myself feel something that isn't there. Maybe this year I can allow the holidays to occupy whatever space they naturally occupy, without forcing them to be more or less than that.
Do the holidays bring complicated memories or feelings for you, even when there are people and moments in your life that you genuinely appreciate?
~ julie
If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.
Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.
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