End-of-Year Letters, a Psychoanalysis, an attempt to understand the motivations behind those merry missives now littering our mailboxes.

End-of-Year Letters, a Psychoanalysis

By Ann Green

They arrive every year, as inevitable as bad weather and school vacation: those end-of-year letters, the annual tributes to TMI.  They come from people you haven’t spoken to in 20 years and from those you see all the time.  That is, people you’re no longer in touch with and those who have already told you everything.

There must be a reason these things keep coming, even though their reputation for promoting holiday cheer is up there with fruitcakes and office parties.  These endless epistles and their writers have been crying for a clinical review, which I humbly offer.  I have peer reviewed this study myself.

From the letter writer’s viewpoint, the unstoppable urge to unload information comes from the belief that They can’t wait for this letter every year.  This psychosocial perspective is indicated by a narcissistic urge manifesting itself in such delusionary thoughts as:  People should take notes if they want to become fabulous.  And, Everything in my life is coming up roses, 24/7/365, except on leap years when it has a chance to be even better.  In the letters such urges result in detailed descriptions of visits to family and friends whom you, the reader, have never heard of, analyses of high school and college reunions and plans for window treatments and upholstery.

An added dimension, known as Who Wouldn’t Want to Be Me Disorder, comes from a deeper region of the writer’s psyche.  This is illustrated by travelogues of fabulous vacations; a compendium of  accomplishments of  ideal children, including election to the honor roll or Dean’s List, record-breaking SAT scores, prestigious college acceptances, team captaincies and junior years abroad making the world a better place in a remote third world nation.  Sometimes the disorder results in descriptions of the writer and spouse’s dream jobs and (if you’re lucky) tales of the hilarious hijinks of their perfect pets.  Closely related is the section on plans for the fantastic future featuring more trips, a sports car, a million-dollar kitchen and fantasies about retirement in a gated community.

The TMI level in each letter varies with regard to the intimacy intensity of descriptions of symptoms and surgeries (human, canine and feline), relationship issues between spouses and shopping habits of in-laws.

In conclusion, your humble researcher can only surmise that such letters will continue to plague the nation.  Recipients have two options.  One can read them and take them seriously, thus risking one’s own psychological disorders.  Another tactic is to read them and have a few laughs, but not share this activity with the sender, assuming this is someone with whom you actually have an affiliation.

I realize that there are people who enjoy these letters.  People like reality TV, too, and that’s okay.  However, these missives should be kept out of the hands of children, whose self-esteem might suffer from exposure. 

So, happy holidays everyone.  If you receive end-of-year letters, there’s hope.  A hotline will be up in time for the New Year.  Dial 1-800-Allaboutme.