When I was younger, there was nothing that sparked more joy in me than the holiday season. I'd spend all day on Thanksgiving putting up Christmas decorations in my room (which typically consisted of tinsel from the dollar store and holiday-themed McDonald's toys). I danced around the house and sung my heart out to Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas albums, helped my mom with holiday baking while always sporting a Santa hat, and wrapped up random things from around the house so that I would have something to put under the Christmas tree.
Not much of that has changed as I approach 21, although I do have something of an income now so I can actually gift new items to my family. What has changed, however, is my mindset. The holidays just don't put a magic spell on me anymore like they used to.
That's not to say Christmas isn't my favorite time of year anymore because of course it is, I mean...it's Christmas. It's just gotten harder to hold on to the image of the little elf I used to be as the years go on. Of course, part of that is just because I'm growing up. But another part, a much bigger part, is because of the toll my depression takes on me during the holiday season.
I feel as though this disenchantment with the holidays is a side effect of depression that people don't actually talk about that often. You always hear about losing interest in things that used to excite you, but no one really tells you that extends to "the most wonderful time of the year." As it turns out, depression doesn't take a break for the holidays.
Depression manifests differently in everyone, but for me, it's a constant feeling of complete emptiness. I'm not painstakingly sad all the time, I'm just devastatingly numb. I want to feel the same joy and light that Christmas used to spark in me, but now I just don't feel much of anything most of the time.
This year, it's been exceptionally difficult for me to understand why I can't seem to get in the holiday spirit. I go through the motions of doing everything that brought me joy when I was younger, but they don't fill me with the same feeling of magic that they used to. Everything just feels meaningless, and the more I try to fight my way back to the image of who I used to be, the further I seem to get, and the more disappointed I become with myself for failing.
It wasn't until I started writing all of this that I realized that maybe the trick is to stop fighting. Not to give up to my depression, but to give in to it, to let myself be moved by it.
Depression has ruined a lot for me, but I refuse to let it take away the magic of the holiday season. The fact is, I know I'll never experience that same evangelical zeal I used to feel at Christmastime when I was younger. And as utterly heartbreaking and jarring as that is to admit, I don't believe that all hope is lost.
If I've learned anything from having depression, it's how to adapt to the new and unfamiliar. Coming to terms with my mental health has been a long and trying process, but in the past year I've finally arrived at a place where I can accept the person I am and can adjust to the changes that result from my depression and anxiety.
Dealing with depression during the holiday season is just another change I have to adapt to. Christmas may no longer mean the same thing to me that it did when I was younger, but now I have the chance to make it mean something different. Maybe different can still be good.
I believe in the power of hope and having things to look forward to despite the efforts of my brain to tell me that they don't matter. They do matter, and hope matters. My desire to keep the spirit of the holiday season alive is what will ensure that it does. I have to believe that good things aren't just good because they were created that way; they're good because we choose to make them good.
I don't think that happiness is a choice, but I do think that hope is. I choose to believe that Christmas is still the most wonderful time of the year. I choose to believe that the holiday season will always inspire generosity, kindness, and compassion, even in the darkest of times. I choose to believe that the spirit of Christmas isn't merely the childhood illusion we're all desperate to hold on to, but is a force of light that changes and grows into something new within us just as we change and grow along with it. I choose to have hope.
