Surviving the Holidays

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. It’s been a while since I’ve slowed down enough to even gather my thoughts or allow myself to process what I’m feeling. For the past month or so, I’ve switched into what I would consider “survival mode”; I know that this mode is not only for widows or those suffering grief, but seems to be for many trying to get through this hectic holiday season these days where, for many, there are a lot of difficult family dynamics and past traumas that resurface around this time.

Survival mode, for me, is filling my calendar with as many fun things with friends as possible, to avoid having to face an empty, half-decorated house and the looming holiday alone. Survival mode is spending hours online shopping to find everyone I love just the right gifts, and then wrapping each one with ornate bows (no gift bags here). Survival mode is getting in early morning workouts despite 5-6 hours of sleep because you know that you need those endorphins now more than ever. Survival mode is extra counseling sessions where you can bawl your eyes out because you have been trying to hold it all together and be happy and merry and joyful but it really is all too much. Survival mode is forgiving yourself for going into survival mode because anything else would be too much for you right now.

The thing about survival mode is that it is meant to be a temporary fix. And I know this. I’m not oblivious to the fact that what I’ve been doing over the past month has been a band-aid; it has helped keep me too busy from having to really process Trey’s loss this holiday season. The truth is, the pain is still too raw - it’s still too close to the surface - for me to sit in it during a time that is already emotionally full. Despite all of the work I have put in over the past 7 months, despite all of the tools in my toolbox I have amassed during this time, I am still not prepared to confront this pain head on. And that’s ok. Our body can physically and mentally only handle so much, and that’s why it goes into things like survival mode to help you cope with these otherwise impossible situations. And a big part of survival mode this holiday season is forgiving myself for not being stronger, not being able to confront Trey’s absence more directly, and giving myself the space and grace to make it through this first holiday season however I can. Because no matter how many coping mechanisms I invoke, no matter how many hours I spend away from home, Trey’s absence is always felt: in that text I don’t send, in that perfect present I don’t buy, in that kiss under the mistletoe I don’t get to steal.

I don’t want to bury the hurt forever. Which means that, come January, I have to recommit to putting in the time and mental and physical energy to focusing on my healing. This is hard, exhausting, painful work, but I know that the more I put in, the quicker I heal; and I want to heal. So, if you find me saying no to more things in the New Year, do not get offended, please help support my process. I need to spend more time with myself, and this may mean more time alone.

And, if you’re in survival mode right now for any reason, know that you’re not alone. And, if you want a friend to help remind you to slow down and reconnect with yourself in the New Year, know that I am here for you. This Christmas, I hope you get to hug your loved ones and remember how lucky each and every one of us are to get another day on this great earth. Merry Christmas, peace and love to you and yours.