Everyone Else Is Merry… So Why Do I Feel Numb?
A Personal Reflection on Holiday Pain, Old Memories, and the Stories That Still Live in Us By John Oh
Every December, it feels like the entire world shifts into celebration mode.
People put up lights, share photos, gather with family, bake cookies, plan parties.
But for some of us, something very different happens inside.
While everyone else is talking about joy, connection, and tradition… you might feel numb, overwhelmed, disconnected, or quietly sad.
You might even feel guilty for feeling this way — as if you’re failing some emotional test everyone else is passing.
If that’s you, I want you to know something upfront:
You’re not alone. And there’s a reason this season hits you the way it does.
When the Holidays Bring Back the Parts of Our Story We Didn’t Choose
The holidays have a way of exposing old wounds we’ve learned to live around.
Not because we’re weak, but because the environment itself stirs up memories, roles, and family dynamics we didn’t choose.
I know the feeling deeply.
I grew up in San Francisco, and my childhood was kind of a mess and one of it was because we grew up in deep poverty — the kind where survival came before celebration.
We didn’t decorate.
We didn’t exchange gifts.
We didn’t have special meals or gather around a festive table.
In my childhood home, the holidays were mostly Quiet. Too quiet
So when December rolls around even now, decades later, my body remembers those years long before my mind does.
It remembers the emptiness, the silence, the feeling of being on the outside of everyone else’s joy.
Then dealing with loss
My mom passed away a couple years ago And the holidays became something heavier — because there’s no Get togethers, Jokes, or calls that fills the space left by the absence of someone you love.
So when people feel numb or sad during the holidays, I don’t see weakness.
I see a story.
Your story.
My story.
The story the holidays wake up whether we want them to or not.
Why This Season Makes Us Feel Small Again. Why is it so complicated?
If you go “home for the holidays,” or even think about family gatherings, you might notice something strange:
Even as a grown adult — a capable, thoughtful, responsible person — you can feel suddenly young again. We called his family systems in the Clinical world
In the way where old roles reappear quickly:
The one who smooths over conflict
The invisible one who keeps quiet
The caretaker who picks up the emotional pieces
The one who absorbs everyone else’s tension
The peacekeeper who doesn’t get to have needs
The strong one who never gets to fall apart
It doesn’t matter how much you’ve grown; old systems pull on old scripts.
It’s not immaturity.
It’s memory.
Your nervous system remembers the role it learned to play for survival.
And the holidays recreate the original stage
The Memories We Don’t Talk About in December
While others are celebrating, many people are quietly dealing with:
Loss that reopens
Childhood trauma that still echoes
Family systems that never healed
Grief that gets louder in the quiet moments
The feeling of not belonging
The ache of what we never had
The exhaustion of pretending everything is fine
Some people dread gatherings.
Others dread not being invited.
Some fear the conflict.
Others fear the silence.
Some feel the pain of who’s present.
Others feel the pain of who’s missing.
The holidays amplify everything we have — and everything we’ve lost.
You’re Not Broken for Feeling This Way
If you feel:
Numb
Empty
Disconnected
On edge
Overwhelmed
Heavy
Sad
“Not yourself”
…it doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you.
It means something happened to you.
It means you survived things you shouldn’t have had to carry.
It means your heart remembers what your mind tries to minimize.
It means this season brings up emotional landscapes you didn’t choose.
You’re not failing the holidays.
The holidays are simply intersecting with your deeper story.
Honoring the Story Instead of Hiding It
Here’s a gentle way to move through this season:
1. Acknowledge what the holidays stir up in you.
Not as a judgment — but as truth.
2. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel.
You don’t owe anyone forced joy.
3. Remind yourself that you’re not the child you once were.
Old roles don’t define you anymore.
4. Take emotional breaks when you need them.
Walk outside. Breathe. Regroup.
5. Share your story with someone safe.
Pain loses some of its power when spoken.
6. Create a new tradition — even a small one.
It’s a quiet way of rewriting your story forward.
Learning to Be Gentle With Yourself This Season
Healing rarely looks like a tidy, cheerful holiday movie.
Healing often looks like:
Feeling 10% more grounded than last year
Being honest with yourself sooner
Using your voice in a way you couldn’t before
Letting yourself grieve without shame
Choosing connection over isolation
Not abandoning yourself to keep the peace
Healing is subtle, but it’s real.
And it happens one honest moment at a time.
A Gentle Invitation for You
Before you rush into another gathering…
before you put on a smile you don’t really feel…
before you slip back into an old role
Pause.
Take one slow breath.
And ask yourself:
“What is my heart remembering right now — and what does it need?”
Maybe it needs patience.
Maybe it needs honesty.
Maybe it needs rest.
Maybe it needs someone to listen.
Maybe it needs a moment of grace.
Maybe it needs to say, “This season is hard for me.”
Whatever your answer is, honor it.
Share this with someone who may need the reminder too:
You’re not the only one who feels a shadow in a season of lights.
Your story matters — even the painful parts.
And you’re not alone in it.