Accepting the Gifts We’re Given
by Deborah Ferber
Sometimes I catch myself longing for that idyllic childhood Christmas. Presents with shiny bows a promise of wonderful surprises waiting inside. Wide-eyed eagerness while fiercely ripping off wrapping paper. Squeals of delight filling the room upon receiving just what had been hoped for. A festive meal stuffing me to the brim, perhaps a favourite Christmas movie, a steaming mug of hot chocolate, and when the evening is over – loving embraces of goodbye given to relatives and friends. This moment would live on in my memory, sustaining me forward into the next year.
Of course, this is a fantasy, the ultimate representation of a joyful holiday experience. The fantasy leaves no space for my reality: the anxiety, loneliness, and depression that the holiday season so often lends me. Lying underneath my Christmas fantasy is the bitter truth that I don’t always feel like decking the halls and I rarely feel like “all is calm…and… all is bright.” In fact, most Christmases I’ve actually felt the exact opposite; like everything is set to collapse and crush upon my shoulders.
I first began experiencing symptoms of severe depression when I was 12, nearly 15 years ago now. Counselling, peer support, art therapy, and even medication have helped sustain me, though depression has been a part of my life so long now that it has also become a part of who I am. I may have made some improvements, but it is always there lurking in the shadows, challenging my growth and causing me to feel anxious about situations beyond my control.
Growing up with depression meant that things could get particularly “messy” around the Christmas season. First, there are the environmental challenges, the natural darkness, less hours of sunlight and time outside, which contributes to a sense of personal despair. Then, there’s the anxiety brought on by added social expectations, Christmas parties, pageants or plays, and the expectation to be joyful. All this topped with the (false) belief that I can’t share openly my internal struggles because I’d ruin others’ Christmas merriment.
I suppose by now, 15 Christmases later, I should be prepared to handle the anxiety of this season. The truth is, I still don’t always know how to cope and still encounter despair. My glimmer of hopefulness comes when I remind myself that even during Christmas I’m allowed to hold realistic expectations, place limits on activities, take necessary time-outs, find safe people to be honest with, rely on my support groups, and keep taking my Vitamin D supplements.
It is no doubt draining to live in the push-and-pull of joyfulness and despair during the advent season…but sometimes it’s more important to accept the gift we’re given, regardless of how it’s wrapped. The very first Christmas was not greeting card perfect, it was messy, confused, and filled with turmoil. Yet even in the midst of a dirty old stable, Mary and Joseph discovered their blessing. Likewise, our Christmas may be filled with uncertainty, apprehension, and mental illness, but Jesus promises to walk through it offering us His light and His love even in the darkest of valleys. Jesus has come as the Saviour of our dark, despairing, and fearful worlds.
Anxiety and depression often escalate during the Christmas season. While the push-and-pull of joyfulness and despair during the advent season is exhausting, sometimes it’s more important to accept the gifts we’re given, regardless of how they’re wrapped.
