There’s a saying in 12-step circles that the time between Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s is the Bermuda Triangle, because that’s when everybody disappears (i.e. relapses). And then everyone comes back after the New Year … which is why, you might notice, a lot of people, including yours truly, have early January sobriety dates. (Mine is January 2 which is really embarrassing. I couldn’t quite get it together on the 1st. I was on a bender and still had some Fosters to drink.)
I have a long history of hating the holidays
Even before I was in recovery, I’ve always hated the holidays. I know it’s verboten to say that, but I do. I was an only child constantly torn between two spiteful parents fighting over who got me during the holidays.
But it’s more than that. I’m just not a jovial, party-loving person. I won’t wear a Santa hat or go to an ugly sweater party. I hate pumpkin anything. I loathe Christmas music. (I’m half-Jewish, but I can’t blame it on that.) New Year’s is stunningly depressing, as you try to believe again “This year, I’ll _______ (fill in the resolution that hasn’t been kept for 30 years). Those tiara hats with “2025!” on them are stupid, and my epilepsy doesn’t like fireworks or kazoos or whatever those things are that you blow on and a paper tongue sticks out and makes an annoying noise.
When I was deep in my addiction, a holiday was just another day to get as high and drunk as I could. I had long lost the privilege of attending group functions, be they familial or friendly.
One Thanksgiving I ended up in the ER, and one Christmas I got arrested, so those two days are still a bit tainted.
Recovery doesn’t magically make the holidays perfect
Now that I’m over a decade into recovery, you can’t pay me enough to go to a sober dance or potluck. My parents are recently deceased, and I get a little pang in my heart every time somebody tells me they are going to their mother’s or father’s for the holidays. Not that I ever did that in my adulthood, but talking to them would be kind of nice. And my father would always ask what I was grateful for.
But holidays can be tough for anyone. Even for folks whose parents are alive, family dynamics can be very triggering. Childhood wounds get re-opened, and old tendencies can be sparked. Moreover, the whole holiday Triangle is often seen as a time to “over-indulge,” especially in alcohol. These are the few times of the year when getting really drunk is socially and publically seen as acceptable, if not encouraged. And if you’re a teetotaler (like many of us in recovery), that feels … well, shitty. Drunk people are annoying and boring, and it’s easy to feel left out as you glumly cheer with your La Croix or whatever.
The holidays can also be incredibly lonely, even if you’re not isolating. Your IG feed is populated with pics of people smiling, hugging, and laughing with lots of food and drink and maybe even a fireplace in the background. This can serve as a harsh comparison to you and your cat sharing a turkey sandwich, watching Dateline in bed. (Too real?)
There is a lot of pressure to be happy and buy things and cook. If you’re not rolling in the dough or you’re in a depressive funk, this pressure is unpleasant and yet another reminder that there’s something innately wrong with you during “the happiest time of the year.”
As the year winds down, many of us reflect on our lives … and that can be disheartening. Especially if it’s been another year where you didn’t get engaged, get that promotion, buy a new car, stay alcohol-free as long as you hoped, etc.
Don’t let the holidays sabotage your recovery
I’ve stayed sober many a holiday season and here are some suggestions to make it through:
- Volunteer. Go feed the homeless. Get out of yourself and help another. You’ll get grateful really fast.
- Say yes to one invite. You don’t have to stay long. Just show up. You might be surprised how activating human interaction is.
- Remember that this will pass. The holidays are a couple of days spread out over three months. You can do it. They’re temporary. You don’t need to buy into the whole “holiday season” thing unless you want to.
- Check in with your support group. That’s where you can speak your truth and not be branded a buzzkill or a Scrooge. You will feel understood and connected, and speaking up might make someone else feel more understood.
- Don’t compare yourself to things you see on social media. It’s all a show—a highlight reel at best and a fake facade at worst. (Nobody is posting pictures of themselves crying into a cold bowl of stuffing but that doesn’t mean no one is doing it.)
- Celebrating without returning to your old behaviors. If you love the holidays, great! Rock out with your reindeer horns. Remember there are so many fabulous mocktails now, so there’s no need to blow your sobriety just to enjoy parties or raise a glass in toasts. Either bring your own drinks to a party or ask the host to have some non-alcoholic beverages for you. (If people can request vegan or vegetarian meals, you can ask for non-alcoholic beverages not limited to Diet Coke or juice.)
If it’s your first sober holiday, welcome. Be proud of yourself for sticking to your guns. As a twenty-year relapser, I promise you, relapsing is not worth it. Don’t spend Christmas in the ER or New Year’s in jail.
