Its 9:15pm and I'm standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle of my local supermarket as I feel a wave of depression hit me like a wall. Tears begin to well up as I take a deep sigh and try to focus on the adult contemporary holiday music instead of the watery escape of my own emotional stress. Stress that I've actively tried to ignore for the past 5 months and especially in the past 48 hours. A grown man, alone, and about to cry in the most public way.
Don't misunderstand me, I have no issue with seeing someone cry and I know that tears are a great way for your body to relax a little, cleanse the soul and take some metaphorical weight of your shoulders. I'm also not a supporter of toxic masculinity so in my world it's ok to shed a tear and still "be a man". It's what I teach my kids and what I discuss in workshops. I just wish it hadn't hit me as I white-knuckle grip my shopping cart in one hand and hold a can of blueberry pie filling in the other.
The holidays always tend to be hard for most of us. It's loud, busy, and overwhelming. Before I was married, I did an awesome job of putting on a happy face for parties and family gatherings, drink the wine and nog, eat the massive feast in front of me, sing the carols, and treat life as a great time. But the moment I was home, I'd sit in my apartment bedroom away from my room mates and feel that black cloud of loneliness come over me. I began to wallow in my misery and I would just tell myself that if it doesn't feel better by New Year's Eve, at least I can self medicate on the 31st a little to numb it all and distract myself.
Eventually, I was blessed to find my future wife and she helped me to really embrace everything that is truly amazing about the holidays. To see the blessings that were always right in front of me. She's like the Cindy-Lou to my Grinch. Parenthood shot me into the Santa stratosphere and I became the guy that wears the ugly sweaters, happily reads the stories, and sings the carols all the while whole-heartedly and honestly enjoying the holiday season. When I laugh now, its not a front. When I smile its genuine.
Except this year. The black cloud found it's way back to me and every day of December becomes more of a struggle. This will be the first Christmas and Yule without my mother. Long story short, I hate cancer. With every fibre of my being. I HATE IT. Along with the daily stress of living through a pandemic, the responsibility to keep the peace in the house, de-escalate the roller coaster of emotions of the kids, homeschooling, handle changes in protocols for flattening the curve, and figure out what the hell to make for dinner, I have a voice in the back of my head reminding me that she won't be there.
No video chat to discuss the huge amount of snow her and Dad got or how someone I vaguely remember from high school bumped into her before Christmas and says Hi. No phone call with a purposefully sung off-key version of Happy Birthday a few days after the 25th. Nothing from her. Speaking with my father I know he's feeling it too. My brother as well. We all miss her. And it hurts so much some days. It hurts like hell.
Which brings me back to the supermarket. The pain found it's way back and news that COVID-19 cases have not only arrived, but spiked within our little community have tipped the scales emotionally. I'm tired, I'm burned out, and I'm so ready for a hard drink the moment I get home. I already know it's not the perfect solution but don't judge. We all have our moments. We all have our weaknesses.
Stress is the one constant in our lives that can help to build a person up or tear a person down. It's healthy and normal and I have to remind myself that no one is immune or impervious to it. So I take another deep sigh and make a couple of runs through other aisles to dry my eyes and gain some composure before hitting the checkout. I tell myself that I am stronger than the depression. I am stronger than the dark void waiting to draw me in. I have an amazing wife and kids who have become the rock on which I stand. They are the fuel that pushes me to go on and challenge myself to be better every day. My mother left us a note saying "Start each day with gratitude" and I am extremely grateful to have my spouse to talk to. To share my ups and downs. To support when she needs it and to be supported by when I'm slipping into a negative space within my own mind. I'm really lucky of that and I'll never forget it.
If you're feeling a little lost or isolated this holiday season, just know I empathize with you. If you feel like this is the worst time of year or even further, that you feel like giving up all together, know that these feelings will pass.
Reach out and talk to someone. Chat with a friend over the phone or video call. And know that there's no shame in calling a support line. Be honest with yourself and your emotions right now. Don't be afraid to open up to the people in your life that are important to you. And even though it gets tossed around a lot in a joking manner, don't self-medicate. Speaking from personal experience, it's more of a hinderance than a helper. Like throwing gasoline on a fire. You might not make it out alive.
And remember it's ok to cry. Cry and let go of the stressors that have plagued you. Let the tears flow as needed. I only suggest not doing that in the middle of a store though.
About the Creator
Nathan Hutton
Musician, Motivational Speaker, Program Facilitator, Designer, Father, Husband, Teacher, Student. The hat I wear all depends on the circumstances.
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