Holiday through Crisis

At the most vulnerable time in our family’s mental health rollercoaster ride, my husband and I were consumed with merely getting through each day. We had no emotional bandwidth left to offer others, being so overwhelmed and exhausted. I wanted to cry all the time. I worried if my son was safe and what was next to come.

A lot of self-talk happened too, “Be strong and power through the emotions. Don’t show your child any emotional weakness. Weaknesses will betray how confident we are that he is in the right place. Did we do the right thing?” These were excruciating worries because our son was not living with us. The emotional toll it took on us robbed us of time with our daughter and prevented us from being available for her in the way we wanted. She put on a brave face, gave me a hug, and said for us not to worry about her; she could manage. At sixteen, she grew up too fast during those months.

For many of those dark days, we kept our home life a secret. Not even my closest friends were aware of what we were experiencing. I had not been brave enough to share this part of our life. They saw me as quiet and sad but had no insight as to why. When I spent time outside of our home, I would pretend things were fine because I just wanted an escape. When things were at their worst, I took a chance and trusted a small group of my closest friends with our secrets. They cried with me, brought meals, prayed for us, and loved me through it as I tried to make sense of why our world was upside down. Being depressed and suffering, it was difficult to ask for understanding from them. Never have I seen living angels before, but that is what they were for me. I am grateful for the love they heaped upon us as we were at our lowest point.

Christmas was near, and I didn’t have the energy or desire to celebrate. I just could not understand how to decorate my house for a festive celebration while grieving my son’s circumstances simultaneously. Christmastime brought feelings of guilt that I was not “allowed” to celebrate while he was suffering. I was torn between my suffering son and my sentimental daughter, who cherishes all the family traditions.

And then those angels showed my family all would be all right. I received a phone call about a week before Christmas, asking permission to decorate my home while we were at visitation with our son. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have a tree yet. I hadn’t pulled out any decorations. And I definitely had not purchased any presents. I planned on skipping all of it that year. I am not sure what made me say yes, but God love them, they spent hours bringing some joy into our home.

During this time, I learned I am not meant to suffer alone. It was hard trusting my friends, allowing my vulnerabilities to be exposed. It was scary knowing they were talking about us and not knowing if I made a mistake by sharing our secrets. And it was humbling to know even though I was mad at God because things were not fair for my son and for my family, God wasn’t angry with me. He gave me angels to suffer with me, love me through it, and to know I am not alone.

The most powerful lesson I learned was to allow myself to entrust someone with my secrets and shame. I found by opening up about my “shameful” situation with my trusted friends, my burden was released. The feelings I thought were shameful were more relatable to others and more natural than I realized. Sharing the very thing I guarded so carefully from others, normalized my fears and erased my shame. Listening to my concerns and circumstances was a gift my friends gave to me.

I now understand how crucial it is not to suffer alone. It only compounds the misery. Any advice I may offer to those going through similar experiences over Christmastime would be to find a trusted friend or family member who will listen and not judge. Maybe even test them out on a little secret you have been carrying to see how they handle it before you divulge the heavy stuff. My friends not only saved me from despair but gave me the gift of time to focus on what was important—family. Their acts of kindness allowed me to reach out to my daughter and show her love through keeping our traditions and showing her she was equally important as her brother in crisis.

Their gifts allowed me to flip the perspective. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I learned our celebrations would be different. They may not include all the members of the family in one location. They may not be celebrated on the same day, and they may not be the typical feasts I prepare for special occasions that are eaten all day. Things can be adaptable. So, we did not have a big party at my home that year, we did not go to many parties either, but we did celebrate Christmas instead of it being something to fear and feel guilty over.

Flipping the perspective also led the way for us to take each holiday or birthday as it comes. Trying to force celebrations into how they had always been prior to crises didn’t work for me. Being able to change the expectation allowed me to enjoy the new way we celebrate. This was especially true when my boy celebrated his birthday living away from us later that same year.