If Christmas Makes You Sad: A Quick and Dirty List

Maybe it’s a sad Christmas for you.
Maybe it’s a year of firsts.
Maybe Christmas is always hard for you.
Maybe it’s simply December again.
Maybe Christmas is your happiest season, but you love somebody who is triggered by things you can’t understand.
At our house, we have a short list of gentle guidelines to carry us through this week.
Emotional Memory is different from Logical Memory. There are things you choose to remember because it’s a logical connection. Like when you see someone wearing a blue shirt, and it reminds you of your roommate’s blue shirt that you borrowed that one time … and you intentionally follow a rabbit trail to that memory. That’s a logical memory.
But emotional memory is different. You might see the blue shirt, have no logical memory of the blue shirt, and somehow you just feel sad. It may be perhaps because a paramedic’s uniform was that color of blue, and it’s a peripheral memory that only registers as sadness. Emotional memory is hard to trace; it’s involuntary and it only produces… well, emotion.
Emotional Memory is the Result of Senses. The scent of a candle. A song on the radio. Christmas lights on the drive home. They trigger emotions.
All of this is not Surprising. December is filled with scents, smells, sounds, and songs. And so of course this is happening. I cannot will it away. These are deep neurological paths that I’m trying to fight, and that is no small thing.
All of this is also Unpredictable. Sure, it would make sense for me to slip into a spiral closer to December 22, December 23… but the first day of December? Where did that come from, three weeks early? Triggers are unpredictable, and they are in charge.
I didn’t ask for these Triggers. I’d prefer to not have them at all, thanks.
Trauma isn’t Longing. These episodes that send me spinning are about Trauma. That is all. These episodes are not about indulging in a memory, and they are not about my longing for a different life or an earlier husband. I don’t wish for anything to be different about this beautiful life of mine; this cannot be overstated.
Trauma isn’t logical. So you can’t explain a traumatized person out of it. In case you’re thinking, “But you had thirty good Christmases before that one bad one… can’t you just think about a different one?” Well, all I can say is, no. I can’t. It doesn’t work that way.
Some things can’t be fixed; they can only be carried. As Peter said, “I don’t have to fix it. I only have to be available to my wife.”
My Emotions Don’t Have to Rule the Day. Peter said, “Honey, I love you and I am in this with you. But with all due respect to your story and what you’ve been through, Christmas isn’t sad for me. And I won’t give up my happiness this season.” It’s possible to read that and hear insensitivity; but the truth is, this is a very healthy response that is every opposite of codependent. Plus, there’s so much comfort in knowing I can feel how I feel without ruining Christmas. Peter is holding on to his joy, and I love him so much for the consistency he brings and the light that he shines in this shadow.
I asked Peter what he would say to a fellow person in the support role. He said, “I would tell them to remember this isn’t about them. It’s an opportunity to not be selfish. This season gives me a chance to love somebody more than I love myself. So, if you’re married to somebody who’s struggling, then get over what you wish this looked like, and support this person who wishes it looked differently, too.”
In case you love somebody who is struggling this week, in case you’re in love with somebody whose emotionally undone for reasons that are deeper than logic and longer than a season: please buckle up, stay close, and love us anyway.
On these holy nights, may your soul feel its worth.








Patty Kline says:
So true and honestly and beautifully expressed, Tricia.