Holiday Blues. I Have Them.

Yesterday we put the girls down for a nap a little later than usual, but because we’ve been traveling so much we haven’t really been on a schedule lately, so it didn’t seem to matter.  I laid down on the bed with Hazeline, who still doesn’t like to nap alone (although I’m kind of okay with that since it tends to let me nap as well) and closed my eyes.  About an hour later, I was woken up by faint noise in the house.  I wasn’t sure what it was, so I just laid there, listening.  After determining it wasn’t anything important, I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t.  Something just didn’t feel right.  I mean, I had determined the noise to be nothing of importance, but I felt off.  I felt sad for the first time in weeks.  And then I realized it, as much as I’d tried to escape them, the Holiday Blues had hit me like a freight train.  And while I was sleeping, no less.

But this isn’t necessarily anything new –  Every year around this time, the holiday blues strike   When I was a kid, I would cry that the holidays were over.  Literally, cry.  Real tears.  Over the passage of time and the moving past the scramble that is the holiday season.  And there’s no doubt in my mind that if you asked me what the saddest day of the year was, regardless of the time of year you asked, I’m pretty sure that my answer would be the day that the Christmas tree comes down and gets put away in storage for 11 months (Honestly, I’ve toyed with the idea of keeping the tree up a little longer but it just feels weird if it’s up too long and I feel strange lighting it past the first week in January.  It’s like walking into one of those Christmas themed amusement parks or Christmas stores in May – it just doesn’t feel right.  And I don’t want to be one of those people that keeps their tree up all year round.  Everyone knows or has heard of one of those people, I just don’t want to be them.  While I’m okay with being labeled “crazy”, there’s a an extra crazy stigma that’s attached to those people that I’m just not comfortable with.).

I know, I should be excited about it being a new year.  It’s a clean slate to start over.  To be better.  To do better.  To watch my children learn and grow.  I have 2 birthday parties to plan, a trial calendar sneaking up on me at work, and blog conferences in my very near future, but I can’t focus on any of that.  Because I’m too busy being sad that December is over.  It’s like a pit that I can’t seem to find my way out of.

And so I got out of bed, walked through my dark living room, and turned my Christmas tree lights on.  They seemed to shine extra bright in our completely dark house.  I then went over to my couch and sat there staring at it, as if it were a light box that people with seasonal depression use.  How is it possible for a tree in your living room to bring so much comfort?  Why does it seem that the hope and joy of the season are wrapped around each one of its branches?   For a while, I wanted to pretend that it was December 1st instead of January 1st.  I wanted to go back in time so I could enjoy all of our Christmas moments all over again…as hurried and as crazy as they were, they were perfect.  We saw light displays, visited Santa (3 times!), opened presents at both grandparents houses as well as at our own, and had hot chocolate to warm our tummies.  We partied.  We celebrated.  We worshiped.  I wanted to do it all over again, one hundred times over.

But I can’t do that.

Instead, I grieve over the end of the holiday season.  It’s like a process that I must go through each year.  A process which was only solidified when Greenleigh came home from school this evening and announced, “Christmas is over at school, Mommy”.  Yes, honey, yes it is.

So for now, I’ll be saying goodbye to all the extra family time due to being off work.  Saying goodbye to all the extra cheer people seem to have around this time of the year.  And saying goodbye to my beloved Christmas tree.

On a positive note, these blues only stick around for a week or two, or until I get into enough of a daily routine that I’m able to accept that it’s actually January and not December.  And once I’m done with them, they won’t hunt me down and haunt me again until next year.  The bad part is that the Christmas tree isn’t even down yet.  Scheduled take down date is Sunday…maybe.

Do you struggle with the (post) holiday blues?  How do you cope?