We all knew this year, December would be different. But I don’t think we realised how things would be. We look back over the last year, and the pandemic has been a year now. And we could never imagine that something could still be shutting down countries and the world in the way that it is. We kid ourselves that in this day and age we can fight anything and don’t want to face the fragility that we still hold as humans. We are not all powerful, there are still so many things out there that can knock us off our feet, not only individually, but collectively as well. And promises were made, we were told that Christmas we would be able to see friends and loved ones, that we would be able to celebrate together and hug each other and things would be back to normal. And yet, many people were put under harder restrictions and had their Christmas cancelled. So Christmas had to be rethought.
And, there are lots of thoughts around this. There is the side that my heart slightly breaks for. Those people who have been isolated, for who the relaxed rules around Christmas felt like a life-saver because they could get a little fix of human contact, knowing that that was going to keep them going for this next bit of time. Those whose mental health has now gotten worse and continues on that downward path because the end they had hoped was in sight is slowly moving further and further away. That hope that they have tried to hold on to is slipping through their fingers and they are wondering what these next few months will hold. There are so many people saying that Christmas is not cancelled, it is just different. To some extent, there is so much truth in that. But the other side is, if you have been holding on to having those few days of contact that you have needed, suddenly taken away from you, it is not just changing plans. It is taking away the rock that your finger-tips have been clinging on to that has been stopping you from falling down. It is removing hope. It is taking away your mental way of getting through the winter. And people are encouraging others to reach out to every one, but the problem is, so many people hide this and don’t admit that this is where they are at, so people don’t know to reach out to them because they seem “fine”.
I speak of this first, because I don’t what to take away from the devastation that has been felt by so many people. But there is another side. For me, at the moment, there is something about this year where in some ways it feels like my brain has allowed to be more free. Christmas is usually busy, filled with people and talking and doing things. And it’s not that part of me doesn’t enjoy that, because it does. And I get to see people and family members that I don’t get to see at any other time of year, and therefore this year haven’t been able to see at all, and there is certainly some sadness in that. But, the other side of this, is that my brain has had so much more time and space. My parts have been around and chatting to each other, and have been remembering the happy times of Christmas they have, and the horrific parts. They haven’t had to hide, or be hidden so that I can just be adult me around others. The time and space has, in a weird way, been kind of healing for us. That I am probably unusual in the fact that this different kind of Christmas has been what I needed, rather than a horrible thing enforced on me.
I wonder, how many people who actually need a break, ever get to take them. We all live under the pressures of life and work. I think back to the clients I have had over the last 6-8 months as I have been back working with clients, and I wonder how many of them would like a break where their brains could just be free and relax for some time. Our brains are amazing things. They have ways of working and keeping us safe that we are still learning about and discovering. My brain is split because it kept me safe, and in many ways it still works in that way to protect me from unspeakable pain. But what else is going on in the brains of those who come to us, that are there and working because without us knowing it, it is keeping us safer and away from pain. And sometimes, when our brains don’t stop, it’s because there is too much there and we can’t face it at the moment. But what would it be if we could just offer to someone that it’s ok to stop and let our brains do their thing for a little while, before we pick ourselves up and continue again with a little renewed strength.
Fragmented Therapist 