It’s the most wonderful time, of the year.

Only sometimes, it’s not.

Christmas isn’t always Merry for everyone. And sometimes you can’t always tell.

Sometimes it looks like wrapped presents, a reindeer jumper, and a smile. But underneath it is barely contained panic, the weight of expectation, a bra that hasn’t been washed in 8 months, and a broken heart.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.

Sometimes people with depression don’t look like people with depression.

Sometimes they make jokes.

Sometimes they dress up.

Sometimes they join in.

Sometimes they look like they’re having a good time.

But it might have cost them dearly to force themselves out of the house. They might be looking at the world through a veil of gray. They might not actually feel like part of their surroundings. They might be waiting, watching for judgement, for your condemnation, for their own mistakes – for signs they are really there at all. They might go home and fall apart. They might even be falling apart in front of you, within the walls of their head.

Sometimes grief doesn’t look like grief.

Sometimes it looks like normality.

Sometimes it looks like coping.

Sometimes it looks like moving on, appropriately, as people expect.

But underneath it might be rage, and despair, and snot and spit. It might be a loneliness so deep and sharp it would cut you if looked at it too closely. They might be resenting your happiness, and berating themselves for their selfishness. They might be wandering through Christmas like it’s a bad dream, without feeling it, and feeling it too much, all at once. They might go home and fall apart, wishing they could forget, praying they won’t, within the walls of their head.

Sometimes victims don’t look like victims.

Sometimes it’s not sticks and stones, it’s not clear cut, and it’s never, ever as simple as just walking away.

Sometimes they don’t even realise it’s happening to them.

Sometimes they take the piss – out of that person, or themselves. They make it a joke. They even make it public.

Sometimes they roll their eyes and appear to let it roll off them.

Sometimes they make excuses.

Sometimes they just don’t talk about it, even to themselves. They have bright eyes, a bright voice, and stick to safe subjects.

Sometimes, they even find the energy to fight back.

But it might be that in private it is worse than you can know. It might be that each attack, each criticism, each disappointment, each unattainable goal, each impossible, invisible test set and then failed, each attempt belittled and berated, each feeling invalidated – each of those has left a mark. And it might be that Christmas is where it all comes to a head, where it all becomes just too much. They might go home and fall apart in the tiny space left to them where they are allowed to do so – within the walls of their head.

Christmas is hard time of year for a lot of people in a lot of different ways. It is also all about appearances – and appearances can be deceptive.

So be kind to yourself this Christmas. Be kind to others. And have the happiest holiday you can – inside and outside your own walls. Perhaps you are lucky and that is the same space. And if it isn’t, perhaps one day soon it will be.

Mumonthenetheredge

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