Decorating For Christmas Makes Me Sad

Oh, hey. I'm Lisa and I am a bonafide lover of Christmas.

Despite hating winter (I get cold easily), I have so much time for Christmas. I will suffer through November and December for Christmas. Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year (after summer…).

I love the decorations, the music and watching 80s/90s Christmas films while mainlining After Eights. I get joy from watching someone's face when they're opening a present I know they'll love. I love our neighbours who go HAM on the Christmas lights.

And don't get me started on food – I live 364 days for my mum's Christmas dinner. No one makes Christmas dinner like my mum. Everything about it is perfect and she even went to the effort of making me special vegetarian bits when I turned veggie 11 years ago – and more recently she's made me vegan versions of all my faves so I don't miss out. It's the best and I've been excited to stuff my face on the 25th since the beginning of December.

It's so nice to visit family I rarely see, and all their pets. I hang out with old school friends who I haven't seen all year and we congregate in old haunts, getting merry and gossiping about people we went to school with.

I get to escape the city for a few days, breathe country air and appreciate the blissful silence while I go to sleep.

And yet, despite all of this, ever since becoming 'an adult', I've always felt a little sad at Christmas. I'll be at home, listening to Slade with a (Linda McCartney) sausage roll hanging out of my mouth, then I'll walk into the living room and feel a twinge of sadness.

I've never been able to work out why I get sad at Christmas. I've struggled a lot with anxiety and depression in the past – Christmas can be tough for those suffering with poor mental health – but I tend to know when it's that.

I've always felt like there's something else. Something missing. Something that was there in my childhood and isn't now. And I've never quite been able to put my finger on what.

Do you just have to accept that once you learn about Santa and stop getting massive presents, the bubble bursts and Christmas loses its sparkle?

I'll never forget the utter excitement of leaving my Santa sack outside my bedroom (even as a child, I thought it was outrageous for a stranger to come in my room while I slept, even if he was delivering me treats) knowing that a magical sleigh pulled by reindeer would be landing on our roof that night.

But surely, my Christmas blues can't stem just from that?

I decided to ask a psychologist help me figure it out, so gave Dr Martin Graff, reader in Psychology at the School of Psychology, University of South Wales a call, and asked him to solve my conundrum, to see if I can beat the blues this Christmas Day.

Me and my brother extremely excited on Christmas Eve many moons ago (Picture: Lisa Bowman)

He started with a point that I hadn't considered – when you're a kid, you are totally stress-free and literally get everything for nothing, especially at Christmas.

'So, in psychological terms, when you're a kid, if you're brought up in a reasonably well-off background, you'll be getting presents,' Dr Graff explains.

'When you're a kid, you're getting things unconditionally – there's no thinking about, "Do I have to do this? Do I have to do that?". It's just the time of year when you get presents! And what can be better than it?

'So in behaviourist terms, you're getting some kind of reinforcement, you're getting something for nothing – so why would you not associate that time of year with it being magical and fantastic?

'You're getting all this stuff and you're not doing anything for it, and when you get older, that doesn't happen.'

'As you get older, especially if you have a family, there are lots of other things to do at Christmas – you have to cook, write cards, go and buy presents. There's all this added responsibility.'

While I don't have a family of my own, and trot back to my parents every year (where my mum makes all the delicious food I ask for, thanks ma, you're the best), there definitely are added stresses around Christmas that I didn't have as a kid.

First off, I don't get the excitement of two weeks off school, because I'm no longer at school (to be honest, I'm still outraged that I actually have to do stuff on my last day of work, instead of someone wheeling a massive telly in and us all watching Miracle on 34th Street). Plus, I'm freelance so tend to work a lot over the festive period anyway. Add to that the pressure of nailing your gift-giving, as well as all the added socialising that often comes this time of year, and it can all get a bit stressful.

People often say that the magic of Christmas comes back when you have your own kids. First off, I don't believe that's entirely true as you've got all the added stresses mentioned above to factor in and secondly, that's such a stupid thing to say to someone who might not want kids, be ready for kids, or even be able to have them. What are they supposed to do? Give up and accept rubbish festive periods forevermore?

I'd never considered Dr Graff's suggestion that the something that's missing might be presents. We're not the sort of family who ever spent loads at Christmas – and these days I'm grateful for that, as it's made me less materialistic – but I still got a lot more than I do now.

Presents as kids are a lot more exciting – you've usually written a list based on the Argos catalogue, so it's guaranteed that you want everything you receive.

As adults, we're sometimes on the receiving end of some questionable gifts (curses to the Avon lady who used to screw my poor Grandad out of his pension money every Christmas), so don't get that thrill of opening something we've been lusting after.

But, to be honest, I feel pretty grateful in terms of 'stuff' – as an adult you can afford to buy your own things, so you don't need a big Christmas list!

Me and my brother opening presents on Christmas Day in the early 90s (Picture: Lisa Bowman)

I'd like to think that my sadness doesn't stem from material things, so maybe it has something to do with the fact that as the years go by, there are fewer and fewer relatives to fit around the table.

This year it's just me and my parents. Which is fine, but it's a stark reminder that my grandparents are no longer with us, and I know my parents will be massively affected by this, whether they openly show it or not.

This year is only my second year without any pets too – I used to make a special Christmas dinner for my rabbits and guinea pigs, and now they're all dead it feels weird not having little furry mouths to feed as soon as I wake up.

And that makes me sad.

Dr Graff also suggests that by thinking Christmas was super magical when we were younger, we may actually be looking back with rose-tinted glasses.

'We call this reconstructive memory,' he explains.

'With people's perceptions of past Christmases, you remember all the good bits but there were probably bits as well that weren't quite so good!'

Now he mentions it, he's right. I've had some horrible Christmases that my brain has conveniently chosen to forget. It wasn't all magic and wholesome family times, it was crying, screaming and slammed doors – something most families experience at some point.

Dr Martin Graff's tips for beating the Christmas blues

Manage your expectations

'Christmas is defined for us big time these days by the media, one of the big aspects of the Christmas is the John Lewis advert which always portray a perfect family Christmas and there's candles and food but it's probably not always like that.

'Social media confirms this as well, you're looking at people's constructed images on there and you're getting this idea that this is what Christmas is like for everyone. But it's not as perfect as it's made out to be.'

Make it less about you

'It does make you feel better if you give, rather than expect to receive. There's a study which suggests if you help others, don't expect too much and involve yourself in giving more, it's a better way to manage Christmas.

'If it's not quite as magical as it was before, then try that.'

Focus on people, not possessions

'Kasser (2000) reports that those individuals who focus on intimacy and community feeling most often report greater happiness and conversely those who are more focussed on money and possessions are less happy.'

I guess it's also important to be mindful at Christmas.

We spend so long anticipating the big day that we can build it up into something massive in our minds, and before we know it, the day is over and we barely even noticed.

It's probably a good idea to stay off social media – the pathway to comparison hell. I'm guilty of mindlessly scrolling Instagram while I'm with family, but this Christmas I'll stay off it as much as possible. I'm so lucky to still have two parents – a lot of my friends don't – so why am I wasting time looking at carefully constructed 'insights' into people's lives, rather than appreciating what I have around me?

If you too get the Christmas blues, then I will raise a glass of mulled wine to you on Christmas Day and wish a whole lot of happiness your way.

After all, we don't need Santa sliding down our chimney to make us feel magical – now we're adults, we can be our own Santa and do loads of cool stuff that we weren't allowed to do as children.

Like eat an entire block of cheese without anyone telling us not to.

And you can't get more magic than that.

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