When Christmas Amplifies What We Carry
For many people, however — and especially for those working in emergency and care professions — these days can feel less like rest and more like amplification. What has been carried through the year — loss, strain, unresolved grief, inner tension — can suddenly feel heavier, like a backpack we didn’t realize we were wearing until we finally stopped moving.
Holidays interrupt routines. They slow the pace. And in that slowing, memories surface. They grow louder. This is true for those who are grieving, and just as true for people who carry responsibility for others — professionally or voluntarily — often without much room for their own needs.
Grief During the Holidays Is Human, Not a Disorder
I’m writing this shortly after returning from a Psychosocial Emergency Support (PSNV) Training Week, followed by a peer conversation the very next day. These experiences shape my focus today — on mental health work and on the lived reality of emergency services during the holidays.
From a mental health perspective, it is entirely natural for grief to intensify at Christmas. Rituals that once offered comfort may now be absent — or painful. At the same time, there is often an unspoken pressure to keep functioning, to hold it together — both privately and professionally.
For people who are grieving, one thing matters above all: taking their own needs seriously.
Seeking closeness or choosing withdrawal — both are valid
Structure can be stabilizing, but over-scheduling can become another burden
Emotions are allowed, even in professional roles; they do not need to be pushed away
Rituals are not coping strategies in a technical sense. They are relational acts. They create continuity, meaning, and connection — even in the presence of loss.
Being Alone Does Not Mean Being Broken
Being alone at Christmas carries a particular weight. In mental health work and training, this rarely shows up directly. Instead, it often appears as exhaustion, emotional irritability, withdrawal, or a quiet sense of emptiness.
It helps to let go of how holidays are supposed to look. Being alone is not a failure or a deficit — it is simply a reality, and one that deserves care and compassion. This is different from loneliness, a distinction worth remembering.
Self-care here does not need to be elaborate:
Lower expectations
Keep the day manageable
Allow a few grounding, supportive moments
Not every day needs to feel meaningful or successful. Some days are allowed to simply pass.
Those Who Carry the Holidays for Others
While many people slow down, others remain fully engaged: emergency medical services, firefighters, police officers, volunteers, nurses, hospital staff, caregivers. The holidays bring their own dynamics — organizationally and emotionally.
From a psychosocial support perspective, this time requires particular attentiveness. Stress reactions do not always appear immediately. Often, they surface later — when the noise fades and the world grows quiet.
A Quiet, Personal Ritual
I have one ritual that remains constant. Every Christmas Eve, I visit my late wife in the natural burial forest. It is not dramatic, and it offers no sense of closure. It is simply being there — standing still, breathing, staying connected.
This ritual carries me. Not because it lessens the loss, but because it gives the loss space. On a day so strongly shaped by expectations of togetherness, this place is an anchor — a place where love is allowed to exist without explanation.
Children, Loss, and the Presence of Angel Babies / Star Children
Holidays are especially tender for grieving children and for parents who have lost a child. At Christmas, “angel babies” and “star children” are often deeply present, even when they are not visible to the outside world.
Children do not need perfect answers, these parents do not need perfect answers — but we can do, wahr we all can do and give — they need honesty, reliability, and permission to feel. Rituals can help:
Creating a remembrance candle together
Making Christmas decorations for the grave
Placing a gift for the deceased child under the tree
Taking a branch from the Christmas tree to a place of memory
In this way, the child remains part of the family. Not as a topic to be avoided, but as a relationship that continues.
Gratitude — And finally, thank you.
To all colleagues in emergency services, healthcare, hospitals, and volunteer organizations — whether full-time or volunteer.
Thank you for your presence, your steadiness, and your humanity — especially during days when the world grows quieter, but not necessarily lighter.
Stress does not end on a holiday.
And care often begins by allowing silence.
Until then, I wish everyone a peaceful holiday season and a healthy, happy New Year.
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