I love Christmas, every part. Cookies and food and seasonal music, yes, please. I make menus and gift lists, and I obsess about all the details. The kids and I count down to Santa’s visit, and the Elf on the Shelf (his name is Bubbles) is in full effect every night.

This essay should be right up my tinsel-laden alley.

But not this year.

This year my holiday spirits are low. I’ve struggled through all of the things that I usually enjoy, and I can't figure out why. It could be because my usual habit of getting up early and staying up late seems to intensify in my effort to get everything done. Maybe the unseasonably cold fall and early winter weather here in Chicago moved the timeline up on my Seasonal Affect Disorder. Or perhaps my shoes are simply too tight.

Whatever the reason, as the tale goes, I am every bit the Grinch. When I started to write this piece, I had nothing joyous to say. And that made me feel even worse.

I confessed about my holiday blues to those closest to me. My best friend offered: “Don’t you think that it just be that the world is so forked right now?” (She didn’t say forked, but you get the idea.) Yes, quite possibly, that could be it. Or at least part of it. When I told my kids I was feeling sad and asked what they do when they feel that way, they were ready with practical solutions. “I feel happy when I eat candy,” my 6-year-old suggested. “You could eat more candy!” My 8-year-old also had an idea: “I’m happy at Dave and Busters!” he remarked. “You could take us there!” Well played, son.

My husband was concerned when I admitted to my lagging Christmas spirit, but he seemed to get to the heart of my needs. “Can I get you anything from Target?” he asked. Smart man.

The holidays are a time of high emotional demands and equally high expectations, according to the American Psychological Association. A 2014 survey showed that while people love the holidays, as I do, these dates on the calendar also arrive with mixed emotions, such as fatigue, stress, irritability, and sadness. Thirty-eight percent of participants said their stress level went up during the holiday season. Sounds familiar.

The National Alliance of Mental Illness offered some advice for getting through this time. They suggest that if holidays were a distinct time in the past and you try to recreate that, you are setting yourself up for sadness. They propose creating new memories and moving forward in ways that establish a ‘new tradition’ of happiness.

I love this idea.

I’ve written before about my father’s love of Christmas. He never did anything half-way, and the holidays were his Super Bowl. Although he passed away more than 8 years ago now, his loss hits me at random times but is particularly striking during the holidays. I know this adds to my gloom at what is supposed to be the happiest time of the year.

I decided to take some time and figure out what I needed to do to feel better. The answer, ironically, was: Less.

I took a day off and leisurely wrote holiday cards. I took a nap instead of plowing through tasks on a Sunday afternoon. I declined invitations to some social events and instead went to bed early. I worried less about fancy dinners and more about family time. I made donations in my Dad's name to some causes close to my heart. I let the kids stay up late decorating cookies on a school night. I did less of what I felt obliged to do, and more of what felt important.

I began to feel better.

For me, this was a temporary downturn, but the episode heightened my awareness for and sympathy for others suffering from depression - not only during this season of light and merriment but throughout the year. I may never know what caused this dip in my level of cheer. Thankfully I have the support of friends and family near and far. There’s always help available, and I hope anyone who needs it is willing to reach out.

And if all else fails, I have lots of candy, and I’m happy to share.

This essay also appeared in the December issue of Fete Lifestyle Magazine.