Coping with Christmas Alone
Christmas has always been my most favorite time of year, Neighbor. The twinkling lights, the glitter, the festive colors, and a human generosity that seems more prevalent at this time of year makes everything glow and sparkle. I enjoy every second of decorating my home’s outside decks and porches, nearly every room in my home, right down to topping off each gift with its own bows and baubles. I couldn’t image a Christmas alone.
This holiday season is like none to come before, Neighbor. I find it quite poignant that my social media feed sent a memory from five years ago that states the very same thing. In that live video, I talk about coping with Christmas alone, what with my children grown and my then-spouse away.
I panned the camera around the room and talked about the many traditions that were still intact. I paused to talk about an intricate and detailed ornament I had made two decades prior, while in a treatment facility for severe depression. Every year, as I have carefully unwrapped that ornament and placed it on the tree, I reflected on how far I have come since those early years following the unexpected death of my son, two miscarriages, and serious family strife.
This Year is Especially Hard
This year marks the third year that I find myself without all those former traditions. It is also Year Three of me learning about a fifteen-year-old lie that had been told to my children shortly after I unearthed their father’s second affair. After learning that someone—I may never know exactly who—told my children the fabrication that I had tried to kill them when they were babies, my entire life seemed to implode around me.
The culmination of the ensuing events left me knowing I could no longer put my sacred wedding vows ahead of my own needs. I had to take care of my own sacred self. As is often the case in such psychological abuse cases, the fallout of The Lie’s aftermath was vast. My already delicate marriage came to an abrupt end. My relationship with my children took a bizarre turn for the worse. For any of you who have experienced parental alienation, I send you extra doses of love and light.
Grief Can Sap Holiday Spirit
Like anyone who has experienced a significant life loss event, you may relate to having little-to-no energy or desire to decorate. As much as I longed for the Christmas spirit in my home, I could not manage it, but I also could not live without it. I compromised by setting a small artificial tree and a decorative reindeer on a table next to the sofa; the place I spent many hours binge-watching feel-good, Hallmark Holiday movies or sitting in a stupor as I contemplated what I wanted my life moving forward to look like.
The following year, I rented a bedroom that served as my sleeping room, storage, office, and often a place where I ate my meals. That meant no decorations. I pulled that same reindeer from one of the bins stored beneath my raised bed and placed it on top of a bookshelf on the wall at my footboard, and I hung from my lamp the holiday ornament a friend sent me.
This year? I, once again, find myself unable to decorate as I used to, despite having found an apartment after relocating back to my hometown. This holiday season, I am literally thousands of miles away from home and living out of a suitcase. I’m in Scotland, where I have been on holiday since the end of September.
Christmas Alone is Time for Self-Discovery
Honestly, though, I have not looked at it as a vacation but more as a journey of self-discovery. When my life imploded around me three years ago, I realized how little I knew about myself. I lacked confidence and wondered, as many do when facing divorce, if I could make it on my own.
When I began asking the existential question, “Where does someone go to start her life over?” Scotland began appearing over and over and over on my path, in various ways. Several factors, including COVID, prevented me from making the trip until now. Everyone I have met in this country has greeted me warmly. There’s a possibility that I may never celebrate another holiday with my children has set in and I began to feel home-and heart-sick.
Cutting Back, Not Giving Up
Traditions come in all shapes and sizes, too, Neighbor, and one of mine is to get creative when I am feeling stuck or hopeless. A simple truth I often share is that there exist within loss, certain elements like tradition and love will always remain, though the details moving forward will merely look different.
My tradition of decorating continues to exist, albeit in much smaller measures. The first thing I did when I began feeling lonely a few weeks ago was to purchase some small holiday pieces. Each night when I retire and each morning when I wake, I greet the two snowmen, two Christmas trees, and a Santa. And I embraced the offer to help my current Scottish hosts decorate their home and yard. I allowed myself the grace to also feel sad in certain moments during the process.
Then I began making phone calls and connecting with charitable organizations in Glasgow, the locale that will be my home in the days preceding and following Christmas. Volunteerism is another tradition that I carry with me all year long and I honestly cannot think of a better way to feel alive and connect to the spirit of the holiday than to serve those in need. It might be a Christmas of a different color, but it is, nonetheless, one filled with everything the holiday represents to me: love, light, fond memories, and meaning.
Visit Annah Elizabeth on her website: www.annahelizabeth.com
