There once was a time when Bing Crosby movies and the aroma of pine mixed with cinnamon would leave me warm and fuzzy inside. I’d wander the aisles of trendy stationary stores with the hopes of picking out the perfect Christmas cards. There were two kinds of cards I needed to purchase: the cards for almost everyone, and the cards for the people I thought I needed to impress. The everyday cards were a little more generic and signed simply with a holiday greeting and my name. For the people I had to impress, the cards were die cut, uniquely sized and mailed in a shimmery envelope. My signature was perfectly executed underneath a witty and memorable sign off. Because we all know that how you sign your Christmas card determines where you end up in this world.
This year, Christmas doesn’t feel so warm and fuzzy. Label me The Grinch, or Mrs. Scrooge, or just plain apathetic, but I have no Christmas tree up. There are no stockings hung on the mantle over my electric fireplace (hey, it’s a rental, okay?) and no snowmen adorning my coffee table.
There’s no nativity scene with an oddly posed baby Jesus, no twinkly lights, and no Santa.
I do however, have Valium. And at times, it seems like the only thing getting me through this high pressure, high anxiety season.
Now, before the shame-on-you emails begin flooding in, accusing me of using a sedative as a seasonal crutch, medication looks different to everyone. To some it’s a little extra comfort in their egg nog. Others, shopping. Eating. Sleeping. Whathaveyou.
Mine just happens to be a little green pill.
Is my holiday coping method healthy? I have to think it’s better for my wallet, my cholesterol, and my hips than say, a trip to the mall or seven pounds of fudgy cookies.
But that’s just me.
For many people, Christmas is merry and bright. For others, sometimes our holiday cheer isn’t turned up to ten. And I’m realizing that’s okay. Different seasons bring different seasons, and there’s much to be learned, whatever side of the fence you fall on this year.
Here’s to making it through another holiday with all the hope, grace (and coping mechanisms if necessary) one can handle. I wish you the best. May we all begin to love our flaws, our imperfections, and our potential as we close out this year, and ring in the next.


