"Everybody Hurts....Sometimes..."

It’s that time of year again. The parties, the lights, the music, the shopping, the world seems to overflow with “joy.” But not everyone experiences the holiday season this way. For some, this time of year amplifies heaviness, not happiness.

I was in high school the first time I realized how deeply some people struggle at Christmas. Oddly enough, it started with the movie Gremlins. There’s a scene where the female lead tells the male lead that suicides are highest at Christmas. At that age, that idea felt completely foreign to me.

A year or two later, it was no longer a line in a movie.

On Christmas morning, I heard screaming coming from our neighbour’s house. A mom, a dad, three children, we didn’t know them well, but their yard backed onto ours. When the police and ambulance arrived, I assumed there had been some kind of accident. But the husband had died by suicide that morning.

As a teenager, I couldn’t understand it.

Why would a parent do that? Up until then, suicide was something I associated with troubled teenagers, not adults, not parents, not Christmas.

Fast forward to my own policing career, and I was no longer the teenager watching from the window, I was the person attending those calls.

Here’s what I know now after decades of seeing the hardest parts of people’s lives:Trauma, pain, loneliness, and heartbreak often feel permanent, but they rarely are. The experience may last longer than we think we can handle, but life shifts.

Circumstances change. And with that change, healing can begin. The deep ache that once felt unbearable eventually becomes a scar, still part of your story, but no longer an open wound.

There have been moments, both personally and professionally, when I’ve worried deeply about someone, when I could see the weight they carried and feared where it might lead. I always had the conversation. I always told them how much they mattered. I always said, “Hold on.”

A psychologist once told me something I struggled to accept: If someone is absolutely intent on ending their life, there is very little anyone can do to stop it.

Hearing that broke my heart. To think that we can recognize the signs, reach out, offer help, and still lose someone, it felt unbearable. But she wanted me to understand the reality, not to discourage me, but to remind me that we can’t control someone else’s pain or choices.

Still, my hope is always for the ones who feel sad, heavy, or alone, especially at this time of year.

Life can be profoundly challenging, and sometimes the hardest stretches last far longer than feels fair. But I also know this: sometimes one moment, one conversation, or one unexpected bit of kindness is enough to shift someone’s world back toward the light.

So at this time of year, please…hold on. Even if you don’t believe things can change, I promise you they can. I have seen people who once lived in the darkest places go on to carry the brightest light.

As you move through the season, at work, at home, in your community, remember that not everyone feels merry. And that’s okay. Make space for the quiet ones, the withdrawn ones, the people who seem “off.” Not everyone needs cheering up, but many need understanding.

It’s okay not to be happy during the holidays. It’s normal. It’s human.

And if you or someone you care about is struggling, reach out. Talk to someone. Call a support line. Or simply sit with someone in their heaviness. Sometimes a quiet nod, a gentle word, or a moment of compassion is all it takes to help someone make it through to the other side.

You never know whose life you might touch just by being there.