Being in Treatment During the Holidays: The Work Nobody Warns You About

By Molly Bierman, CADC

Let's say it: being in treatment while everyone else is home celebrating is brutal.

(Brutal is the nicest word I could think of.)

You're in a facility instead of at your family's table. You're in group therapy on Christmas morning while your siblings are opening presents.

And if one more person tells you "this is a gift you're giving yourself," you might lose it.

I've worked with hundreds of people spending the holidays in treatment: The loneliness is real. The resentment is real.

But here's what I need you to understand: you're not here because someone wanted to ruin your holidays. You're here because your holidays were already ruined.

The Holidays You're Romanticizing

You're picturing the perfect family gathering. Everyone getting along, making memories that matter.

But that's not what was actually happening, is it?

Be honest. How many of the last few holidays were you actually present for? Not physically there while mentally checking out, but genuinely engaged? How many ended with you using alone in your room while everyone pretended not to notice? How many involved arguments about your behavior or people walking on eggshells around you?

The version of the holidays you're grieving right now is probably a fantasy. It's the holidays you wish you had, not the ones you were actually living.

What you're missing is another holiday where you show up high or drunk or in withdrawal. Another year of disappointing people who love you. Another Christmas morning, waking up with regret. That's what treatment is saving you from this year.

When Loneliness Becomes a Weapon

I'm not going to minimize how isolating this feels. The decorations feel hollow. The "special" meal doesn't compare. If your family relationships are too strained for visits, it can be tough. Watching others receive care packages while you get nothing feels really hard.

This is when the voice in your head starts lying. It tells you that treatment was a mistake. That you could manage this on your own if people would just give you another chance. That leaving AMA (against medical advice) to go home for the holidays is the right call.

Here's the harm: relapse during the holidays is devastating, and it happens constantly. The people who leave treatment early to go home for Christmas? Most of them relapse within hours. The emotional intensity, the family dynamics, the access, the stress—it's all there waiting.

You're lonely in treatment. But it would be worse if you were at home right now.

What Actually Helps

Stop waiting for the loneliness to go away before you engage with treatment. It won't. The loneliness is part of the process, not a sign that something's wrong.

What helps is doing the next right thing anyway. Going to group even when you don't want to. Being honest in therapy even when it's uncomfortable. Calling your family even when you'd rather avoid them. Join the facility's holiday activities, even if they seem silly or forced.

Treatment centers try to make the holidays bearable. Decorations, special meals, activities, and sometimes visits or calls home are all part of the experience. It's not home, but it's not nothing.

Let yourself participate. Not just because it feels great, but because connection is important, even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially uncomfortable connection.

The Version of You They Need Next Year

Right now, your family is sitting around a table with your empty chair. They're thinking about you. Some of them are worried. Some of them are relieved you're somewhere safe. Some of them are both at the same time.

They're imagining next year. Hoping that next Christmas or Hanukkah, you'll be there for real. Not just physically present but actually there. Sober. Engaged.

Part of the family again, instead of the concern that everyone's managing.

That version of you doesn't exist yet. You have to build it.

The construction is happening now, during the toughest holiday season you've likely faced.

Every group you show up for is a brick.

Every honest conversation with your counselor is a brick.

Every time you resist the urge to leave or check out or give up is a brick.

You're building something that doesn't exist yet, and it's slow and uncomfortable and lonely and absolutely necessary.

The person who will walk into next year's holiday gathering sober and stable is being made right now. In the moments when you want to quit. In the groups where you'd rather be anywhere else. In the phone calls with your family where you have to hear how much you've hurt them. In the nights when you can't sleep because you miss home so badly it physically aches.

This Season Isn't the End

Being in treatment during the holidays feels like you're missing out on life. What you're actually missing out on is another year of the same patterns that got you here.

This season is hard. The next one might be hard too, depending on where you are in your recovery. Do the hard work now. Get honest with yourself, even if it feels uncomfortable. This effort can lead to holidays that truly matter.

Not perfect holidays. Recovery doesn't give you perfect anything. But real holidays. Where you're present. Where you’re creating bonds instead of breaking them. Where you can look people in the eye without shame. Where you can enjoy traditions without needing chemicals to get through them.

That's what you're working toward here. Not this Christmas. Not this Hanukkah. But every single one that comes after.

Being in Treatment During the Holidays

The holidays will come around again. They always do. The question is: who do you want to be when they do?

The person who left treatment early because it was uncomfortable and ended up right back where they started? Or the person who sat with the discomfort, did the work, and actually built something worth keeping?

You're lonely right now. I know.

But you won't be lonely forever if you stay the course.

You'll be home again.

The question is whether you'll be sober when you get there.