Season is a time of celebration and of lament
THERE ARE several kinds of loneliness that Christmas brings. These experiences differ to the loneliness people encounter at other times of the year. That is the paradox of Christmas. It is a time of presence and a time of absence. It is a time that celebrates family togetherness and a time when the loss of family members is most acute. It is a time for coming home and a time when not being able to do so is felt extremely. Christmas is a time of celebration and of lament.
Christmas loneliness takes many forms and there are many reasons for it. It visits people of all ages and lifecycle stages and few are immune to it at some time in their lives. It manifests itself more visibly at this time of the year because of the starkness of the contrast with the more garish practices of Christmas lights and cheerful tunes.
Ordinary activities become more difficult at Christmas. People often find that they are suddenly, indescribably lonely in the surge of a Christmas crowd, in the enforced gaiety of a party or in the frantic cheerfulness of the streets.
The snow of the past weeks confined many people to their homes and brought them into isolated loneliness ahead of time. The images were picture-perfect Christmas card, but the reality was different for many. The protection of the pre-Christmas rush and fuss was stifled. Plans had to be abandoned. Travel to or from relatives and friends did not happen. Hospital visits were put off. The experience of being grounded made many people aware of their dependency on others or on how much they must depend upon themselves.
The loneliness of the season is always more melancholy because Christmas is an identifiable time with a relentless memory: this time last year, this time two years ago, this time a decade ago. Christmas is not just a season. It measures the passage of time. It measures change. It recalls with heartless accuracy what went before and what is now, and over any lifetime there are remembrances that are sad as well as happy times.
Loneliness at Christmas is time sensitive. It is protracted because it will not end until the year ends, until the new year is welcomed in. As the first decade of the 21st century also ends this year, this Christmas brings an especially ruthless reckoning. There are many changes in a decade and some people may look back to life at the turn of the century, to the hopes and expectations they had then and what has occurred since.
There are visible and invisible losses at Christmas. Bereavement is heightened without the person who has died. There is harsh contrast between exchanges of presents and knowing that the one thing wished for cannot be bought. Job loss can bring feelings of anger, rejection and fear. Couples without children often suffer silently in a season that is child-centred and about the birth of a child.
Divorced parents, who must measure and share time with their children, know the loneliness this brings. Children caught in tugs of love absorb the stresses of the season, adapting to Christmas arrangements that raise their concerns about where they truly belong.
Christmas is a time when people remember friends to whom they can no longer send a card nor receive one from, when people in nursing homes hope that they will be remembered, when home may be lonely but the despair of the homeless is most severe.
But Christmas is also a special time when we can reach out to everyone, when old arguments may be repaired, when forgiveness may be given, when friends are contacted and when family members can be welcomed home. Money does not buy children’s best memories: the gift of simplicity, of parent’s time, interest and attention is the ultimate present.
Accepting that loneliness is part of the human condition and that few are immune to moments of it this Christmas unites us all. We are in life together.
Marie Murray is a director of psychology. Anyone who is suffering severe seasonal loneliness should seek help and the Samaritans (1850-609090, samaritans.org) are always available