“The Way Through”

There’s good days and there’s bad days. Bad days can be anything from a series of bad news or events that never seems to end, to purely internal feelings of aggravation, frustration, sorrow, loneliness, or despair. Remembering that all things pass and acting ‘as-if’ are invaluable tools in times like these. Some days I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball, hide under the covers, and stay there. A dark winter with a cold spell that seems to last forever can be death to even my best moods.

I force myself to go in to work, even if I’m hating my job, and I act as-if I’m grateful. I try to remember there are many less fortunate than me, people who are out of work; people who are without homes or shelter, who are out on the streets in the bitter cold. It’s hard to remember these things when I’m stuck inside myself, but acting as-if can lead me to a place where remembering how fortunate I am defeats the defeatist attitude. Acting as-if I’m grateful I have a job can lead to my actually being grateful I do.

Here in America, we have a cultural thing that is really frustrating to me sometimes. Particularly around the holidays, the Christmas season, the need to be happy is almost militantly enforced. It seems as though cheerful music flows out of every speaker system. Wearing a frown becomes something of a sin. Even at other times during the year, there is something culturally improper about being unhappy. It almost feels like we aren’t allowed to be unhappy. Those who are less fortunate are all too ready to point out to the miserable how they should be grateful for their privilege. Those who are better at the always-be-happy skill are quick to tell those who aren’t displaying the mandatory smile that whatever the problem is, it isn’t so bad—and they offer this advice without so much as asking what the non-smile wearer is upset about or having a hard time with.

It almost feels as though, for an entire month, we aren’t allowed to express the full range of human emotion. To me, the greatest irony is that so many people are miserable during the holidays. Many people are poor and, as such, are seen as less-than because they don’t (re: can’t) participate in the consumer frenzy. Many do not get along with their families; holiday get-togethers are torture as they struggle to maintain composure and get along with people they can’t stand or have nothing in common with. Many have no family, or none they can spend time with. Many have no significant other in their life to snuggle up with in front of the proverbial fire.

And all the while, those of us who choose not to display the requisite happy mask are looked down on with disdain, pity, or outright hostility because we aren’t playing along. To those who are genuinely happy during the holidays, you have my blessings. I’m honestly happy for you that your lives are so wonderful. You are the fortunate few, and I’m glad you can enjoy your joy. To those who aren’t so lucky and choose to fake their way through, pretending everything is wonderful when it isn’t, I have nothing to say except that denial doesn’t work for me anymore.

I’m a big believer in feeling my feelings. If I’m unhappy, I am allowed to feel that. This doesn’t mean I get to spread my misery around—far from it. The importance of acting as-if is never greater than when I’m in a bad mood. But for me, pretending to be happy when I’m not is not the way through. Denial of what I’m feeling only serves to make me even more miserable because it comes with the flavor of I’m not allowed to feel how I feel, that my feelings aren’t valid. They are. It’s a fine line to walk, between feeling what I’m feeling and not allowing others to tell me how I should feel, while ensuring that I don’t spread my dark mood to others who aren’t experiencing one. After all, if no one has the right to make me happy, I certainly don’t have the right to make others miserable.

The holidays really tap my spiritual energy. Most of us have dysfunctional families, and mine is no exception, but it is not my place to pass judgment. No matter how chaotic or insane, my job is to accept them for who they are. I don’t have to try to change them or even spend energy wishing they were different. They are who they are and are allowed to be so. Maybe they aren’t who I’d prefer, maybe my relationship with them isn’t what I wish it could be, but any focus besides acceptance is a form of denial.

I want very much to launch into a tirade about all the things wrong with them, but I know that is not the way. Their problems are their own. They get to have them. They get to deal with them if they so choose. For someone raised in an extremely codependent household, this can be very hard for me to do. I was raised to solve others’ problems. It is a relief and a blessing to know that I don’t have to do that anymore, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t take work to remember. At least I’m spending my energy towards the goal of acceptance instead of feeding in to an emotionally unhealthy task—particularly because it’s futile. Striving for acceptance keeps me away from the feelings which would inevitably come after I failed to succeed at something I can’t succeed at.

For those of you who are lonely this time of year, I send this out: you are loved. Whether we are close, haven’t seen each other in years, or even if we have never met, I love you for who you are, just as you are.