Once again, they've ruined Thanksgiving

Image by drew fralick using the program Paintbrush

The Detroit Lions are your substance addicted cousin.

You spend your whole year avoiding them to the greatest extent possible. They are toxic and you don’t need their energy in your life right now. But Thanksgiving is the one time of the year you know you won’t able to avoid them. They’re going to be at Thanksgiving dinner and you’re going to have to see them.

Why are they still at Thanksgiving dinner after all these years!? After all the harm they’ve done, all the pain they’ve caused you and the rest of the family, all the devastating letdowns time after time, why are they still invited to Thanksgiving??

Why haven’t we finally drawn some healthy boundaries? Said ‘enough is enough’. We love you and wish you all the best, but you can’t be coming around the house during the holidays any longer. We’ve done all that we could to support you throughout the years, but you just refuse to change. We can’t continue in this co-dependent relationship any longer, it’s exhausting. We’re exhausted.

We’ve invested so much of ourselves into them over the years, hoping that we’d be there when success finally comes. That they’d thank us for never giving up on them when others said they’d always be the same. Think of all the money we’ve given them in our lifetime. Did it make a difference or were we just being manipulated the whole time?

You haven’t seen them for a while, but you hear rumors from other family members that they’re starting to turn things around. Maybe this is finally it? Maybe they really have changed? Maybe they’ve cleaned up their act, put the past behind them and really are different now.

So, against your better judgement you invite them back to Thanksgiving dinner. And after all, why shouldn’t you? It’s tradition and they’re family for crying out loud!

But the moment you sit down with them your gut is already telling you you’ve made a big mistake letting them back into your life.

“It’s ok,” you try to tell yourself “just get through the afternoon without any big ugly incidents and it will all be ok. I can do this.”

But your anxiety is creeping higher and higher. A sense of dread fills your stomach as you wait for their inevitable holiday meltdown. You down a glass of red wine to calm your nerves and try to smile, pretending everything is ok.

Everything is ok. Everything is ok. Look, they’re doing well, seems like this time it’s really different. Maybe my fears were all for nothing.

Look how they’ve cleaned up. They seem Focused. Disciplined. Poised for future success.

But as the afternoon goes on they begin to wobble a bit. The demons of the past seem to poke their heads out for just a brief moment. You’re getting worried and feeling sucked in once again.

Everything is ok. Everything is ok. Just breathe.

You’re counting down the minutes until this whole thing is over and you can both go your separate ways until this time next year. If they can just hold it together for a few more minutes, not embarrass themselves once again in front of everyone…who knows? Maybe we can finally, for once, have a normal, cheerful thanksgiving. Maybe we really can have a pleasant holiday afternoon, just like families all over the country do every year.

We’re at the two minute warning. Just two more minutes until this interaction will mercifully end.

Everything is ok. Everything is ok.

Now there’s one minute to go and that’s when you look deep into their eyes and, to your horror, see that all-too-familiar expression. The meltdown starts from somewhere deep within them and then gathers steam as it works its way to the surface. 30. 20. 10.

They’re falling all over the ground now. Other family members stand up out of their chairs and grab their hair in disbelief.

9. 8…

7…

6…..

Everyone is screaming and angry. Shouting fills the living room. The young children are crying and confused. They can’t understand what everyone is so upset about.

5.

4.

3….

2…. 1…. 0.

The screaming stops. The room is deathly silent. Utter shock is written onto everyone’s faces.

Your oldest, most tired uncle stands up and walks to the other side of the room. He has witnessed this scene too many times to count.

“I think it’s best if you leave now,” he says. Then he clicks the power button on the TV.

They let us down, just like they always do. Why did we think it’d be any different this time? Once again, they’ve ruined thanksgiving.

And we have no one to blame but ourselves.