What is good for you? You.

As I write many people are experiencing a challenging Thanksgiving dinner. Empathising with their emotional discomfort, I ponder my disdain for the entire festive period.

It started months ago when I saw the first Christmas item in the supermarket and thought, ‘Oh f*** off!’ It worsened when one aisle had plastic Halloween tat on one side and Christmas plastic tat on the other. Shiny things, placed intentionally at child height, far removed from the original intent of these celebrations.

Now it’s all about commercialism and undue pressure on parents to overextend themselves to “buy happiness.” An item that will briefly thrill their child and swiftly end up in landfill. However, there’s something more sinister at play.

First caveat: I know some people have genuinely kind, supportive and loving families. I acknowledge also that some people simply cannot get enough of this entire period, like those who decorated their houses in October. I am happy for you. However, I didn’t choose my family so well and epitomise bah humbug. 😈

I have an issue with the impact of social media at this time of the year and other times, like Mother’s Day. A day guaranteed to be full of posts saying ‘all mothers are amazing’ that makes me say – in full Aussie – ‘Yeah, no!’ while the bile rises in the back of my throat. (Ok, ok, maybe not that dramatic; as I detail in my memoir The Damage of Words, publishing on June 1, I have spent 12 years healing from the abuse.)

Second caveat: Freedom of speech and all that. Of course, you have a right to post your family photos; I know your intent is to spread joy not to evoke loneliness in others.

During the festive period, our social streams become flooded with images of people having a “great time” as they overindulge and distend their bellies. Amongst the images, I will see some from families I know who are f*ed up dysfunctional, dislike each other, get together out of some sense of obligation, and spend months recovering from the angst.

You know families like this, right?

As I shake my head at the facade, I wonder about the impact forced family gatherings can have on people’s mental health. Are some of the reasons we feel forced to see relatives we don’t like worsened by the pressure of social media? Or is it just societal pressure, like the one I hear about my choice not to see my abuser far too often, ‘But she’s your Mum!’? (Seriously, don’t do that; people don’t orphan themselves rashly!)

Yes, she is my mother, and she broke her contract to love, support and protect me. Ignoring the fact that she doesn’t want to see me – see, there is a God! – spending time with a covert narcissist is never fun; Mother or not.

Shuddering, let’s pretend I had to see her for a moment. The outcome would be:

• Mum’s angst – my self-love and joy are a mirror to her self-hate and insecurity.

• My bottled emotions as she peers at me with her pale blue eyes and open hatred, and I endeavour not to tell her to stop it or intentionally bait her. (I’m healed, not perfect! 😇)

• My sister’s anxiety!! Quite simply, I will not do anything to make her life more stressful!

Then later, I would repeatedly replay the interaction.

Over and over and over again.

Though I’d be proud that I breathed through my countless triggers and didn’t erupt into a volcano of expletive-peppered verbal diarrhoea, the restraint would exhaust me. It would take months to recover from, and I simply won’t do that to myself or my inner child.

And while I am recovering, who and what suffers? My mental health, my physical health, my loved ones both 2 and 4-legged, my clients and so on.

And for what?

For one f*ing day that has lost all its original meaning. Frankly, I’d rather overindulge with food on my own, under Banjo’s hopeful gaze, and feel happy and obligation-free.

So I ask, what if it’s not good for you, too?

Is it time to decline the dysfunction and angst, and create a new festive ritual that feeds your soul and keeps you happy?

💛