Ever since I stopped believing in Santa Claus, Christmas has slowly been losing its luster. The older I get it seems all the holidays become less merry and more scary. I am not the only one who feels this way. People all across the country see the holiday season as one of the major stress factors in their lives this time of year. Getting the family together for a holiday dinner has never been such a trying ordeal. When did we stop feeling like Ralphie when he got his Red Ryder BB Gun and start acting like Chandler Bing surrounded by Thanksgiving food?
Kids have more fun during the holidays; that is no secret. They get the presents and the good food without having to worry about the bills and the holiday weight. The media shows children basking in the magic of the holiday season, while stereotyping adults who dread seeing their in-laws. According to Psychology Today, 45 percent of adults in North America suffer from depression during Christmas time.
What is it that makes us fear what is supposed to be a joyous and peaceful time of year? A Psychology Today article, “Why People Get Depressed at Christmas,” says the vast consumerism has shifted our focus from the true meaning of this season to materialism and comparing ourselves to others based on our possessions.
Leah Borromeo of The Guardian claims that feeling compelled to spend the season with estranged family members causes unnecessary terror and anticipation, and she urges her readers to “cut the apron strings” on family holidays and to spend them with people they choose This seems like a reasonable claim, but I still wonder why this time of year needs to be the source of monumental stress.
As teenagers in high school, the way we spend holidays with our friends and families will soon be changing. My fellow seniors and I will be away at college next year, and sure, we will come back to spend the holidays with our families, but it will not be the same. We will be adults by that point, and have other things on our minds. So, in the spirit of the season, I am determined to appreciate the little things this year. I will not complain about the boxed mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner (easier said than done) or the fake Christmas tree. I do not want to just go through the motions and slowly age into holiday bitterness. Instead, I want to cherish these memories because I know that they are limited. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals!