The Space Between: Navigating the Quiet Days After Christmas in Recovery

The decorations are still up, but the magic has faded faster than your aunt's passive-aggressive smile when you declined her spiked eggnog. Half-eaten cookies sit in tins nobody wants to touch anymore (except at 3 AM when the sugar cravings hit like a freight train). The relatives have gone home, and your sanity has almost returned. Almost.

Welcome to what I like to call "the space between" – that weird twilight zone between Christmas and New Year's where time loses all meaning and we're not quite sure if it's okay to wear pajamas to the grocery store. (Spoiler alert: it is.)

For those of us in recovery, these days can feel like walking through quicksand while carrying all the emotional baggage our family kindly "gifted" us during their stay. The rush of holiday adrenaline crashes hard, leaving us alone with our thoughts in the aftermath of family gatherings, social obligations, and enough seasonal stress to make a therapist need therapy.

If you're feeling a bit lost right now, I want you to know something: you're not alone in this liminal space. And yes, I had to Google "liminal" the first time I heard it too.

I remember my first post-Christmas in recovery. The silence felt deafening – turns out when you're not numbed out of your mind, you actually have to feel things. Who knew? Where once I would have chemically enhanced my way through this period (because nothing says "handling emotions" like not handling them at all), I found myself raw and exposed to feelings I didn't even have names for. Though I'm pretty sure some of those names would've been NSFW.

The Hidden Weight of the Aftermath (Or: Why Your Emotional Hangover Might Be Worse Than Your Old Physical Ones)

Nobody really talks about what happens after the presents are unwrapped and the last relative walks out the door (taking their unsolicited advice about your life choices with them). Research shows that the post-holiday period can be particularly challenging for people in recovery. Shocking, right? Who would've thought that after spending days pretending to be fascinated by Uncle Bob's cryptocurrency investments while dodging questions about why you're still single, you might feel a little... stretched thin?

Maybe you're processing difficult conversations with family members who still don't quite understand your recovery journey. ("But surely one glass of champagne on New Year's Eve doesn't count?" Spoiler alert: it does, Karen.) Perhaps you're feeling the weight of financial stress from holiday spending because apparently, everyone in your family deserved a gift, even cousin Tim who you're pretty sure still owes you money from 2019. Or maybe you're simply exhausted from maintaining your recovery while navigating countless triggering situations.

These feelings aren't character flaws – they're normal responses to an emotionally charged season.

Finding Your Feet in the Quiet (Or: How to Deal When Netflix Asks "Are You Still Watching?" For the Fifth Time)

Here's the thing about this space between: it's actually a gift, though it might not feel like one. Kind of like that meditation app subscription your well-meaning sister got you – the one currently gathering digital dust next to that fitness app from last year's resolutions. Without the noise of holiday chaos, we have a chance to:

1. Process and Release
   Think of this time as emotional decompression. Just as deep-sea divers can't rush to the surface, we need this transition period to process everything that bubbled up during the holidays. Take out your journal. Talk to your sponsor. Let yourself feel whatever comes up without judgment.

2. Reclaim Your Rhythm
   The holidays throw everyone off balance, but for those of us in recovery, routine isn't just helpful – it's vital. Use these quiet days to slowly rebuild your schedule. Start with the basics: regular meals, consistent sleep, daily meditation or prayer, and meetings.

3. Practice Gentle Reflection
   This isn't about New Year's resolutions or harsh self-criticism. It's about sitting with yourself compassionately and asking: What worked this holiday season? What didn't? What boundaries might need adjusting for next year?

The Power of the Pause (And Not the Kind We Used to Take Behind the Building)

Let's be real – as someone who's been on both sides of the recovery fence (hello, fellow humans I've counseled while silently thinking "been there, done that, got the court-ordered t-shirt"), I can tell you that these quiet moments are where the real magic happens. And by magic, I mean the uncomfortable, squirmy, "is this what personal growth feels like or am I just hungry?" kind of magic.

Studies indicate that as people progress in recovery, their quality of life and overall well-being improve. But this progress isn't just about the big moments – it's about how we handle these in-between times.

Think of this period as training grounds for recovery skills. When we're not caught up in the holiday whirlwind, we can practice:

• Sitting with uncomfortable emotions without reaching for escape
• Finding peace in solitude without feeling lonely
• Building new traditions that align with our recovery values

Creating Your Own Meaning

Instead of viewing these days as empty space, try seeing them as a blank canvas. Some ways to fill this time meaningfully:

• Create a gratitude inventory specifically about your recovery journey through the holidays
• Reach out to others in recovery who might be struggling with this same quiet
• Start a end-of-year ritual that celebrates your growth and resilience
• Plan small, manageable activities that bring you joy without overwhelming you

Looking Forward Without Racing Ahead

As New Year's approaches, there's often pressure to start planning and goal-setting. But there's value in just being present in this space between. Your recovery has taught you that every day is a chance for a fresh start – you don't need to wait for January 1st to begin again.

Remember, this quiet period isn't a void to be filled or an obstacle to be overcome. It's a natural part of the recovery journey, as essential as the celebrations themselves. In these still moments between Christmas and New Year's, we're not just killing time – we're healing, growing, and preparing for whatever comes next.

For those reading this who are feeling the weight of the silence: reach out. Go to a meeting. Call your sponsor or whatever you do to connect with the world. Connect with others who understand that sometimes the hardest parts of recovery aren't the big challenges, but these quiet moments in between.

You've made it through another holiday season in recovery. That alone is worth celebrating, even if that celebration is as quiet as these days themselves.

Remember: the space between isn't empty – it's full of possibility. And you're not alone in it. Even if you're still in your pajamas at the grocery store.-Belle-