How to get through Christmas without losing your temper (or your mind)

Christmas can come with myriad stresses, writes Franki Cookney. Here are some festive tips to help you stay on top of things, and hopefully keep you sane until the new year...

The trick is to notice our tension levels rising before we reach boiling point and act (iStock)

Two weeks before Christmas, I had a hair appointment. As I sat before the wall of mirrors, eavesdropping on other people’s tales of festive stress, I was treated to some sage wisdom. “What you want to do,” my stylist said, as he pasted dye onto a section of hair, foil crackling with each brush stroke, “is at some point you’ve got to take yourself out for like a 40-minute walk. By yourself.”

I hadn’t actually asked for this advice, but such is our collective understanding of “spending time with family at Christmas” that, no sooner had I outlined my plans for the holidays, than he began to recommend coping strategies. See, no matter how good you think you are at communicating, if you’re anything like me, you find yourself regressing when you’re around family. Old patterns of behaviour start popping up again.

In normal life, if our mates suggested a freezing walk when all you wanted to do was lie on the sofa and eat chocolates, most of us would have no problem saying no, thank you. Or, knowing it would mean a lot to our friends, we might go along and make the best of it, suggesting a pit stop for rum hot chocolate as a compromise.

When the same scenario plays out with our parents, we find ourselves turning into teenagers again. “Oh my god, fine!”, we huff. It doesn’t help when family members respond in kind. “I knew you’d enjoy it once we got going. You just needed some fresh air,” they say as if I’m still six years old. They might as well tell me I’m over-tired and need a nap.

These dynamics can play out in conversations too. Something that might be a mildly heated debate in the pub with friends can quickly become a screaming row with family members who seem to think blood ties override the need for empathy and consideration for other views and experiences. We push each other’s buttons – sometimes by accident, sometimes (if we’re honest) on purpose.

And once we’re triggered it can be really difficult to calm down. The trick is to notice our tension levels rising before we reach boiling point and act. In my case, this often means “popping to the loo” (parents of small kids will be only too familiar with this particular escape hatch) but I also have an app with breathing exercises.

I will duck into a bedroom and spend a couple of minutes calming my nervous system. I’ve even been known to whip my phone out on the sofa. Chaos can be reigning all around and I’ll be sitting there breathing in for four and out for eight. It’s not a cure-all, but it’s what therapists call a circuit-breaker. And it can make all the difference.

Having some time to yourself, such as the walk my hairdresser suggested, is also key. No matter where you’re staying or who you’re visiting, you are not obliged to spend every second of your stay with your hosts.

If you can stretch to a hotel, having your own space is a really good way to ensure you get a bit of privacy. Otherwise, getting out for a coffee or even just a walk around the block can offer a much-needed chance to reset. My husband and I will usually ask our respective parents to babysit on at least one night of our stay so we can go to the pub. And my siblings and I will often try to slip out for a breather without any of our partners or kids tagging along.

Setting and honouring boundaries can also be extra hard at this time of year. Many of us find ourselves guilt-tripped into doing whatever “everyone else” wants. We invoke the “festive spirit” to persuade and cajole each other into doing things we’re not really enjoying – and, in many cases, are actively increasing feelings of anxiety and resentment.

The holidays mean different things to different people. But the fact that we are more likely to donate gifts, clothes and food, volunteer our time, and give money to charity than any other time of year suggests the idea of a “season of goodwill” is still culturally ingrained. Often, I think, this sense of altruism can make it hard to say no to plans, to extricate ourselves from difficult conversations, and take adequate time and space for ourselves.

When relationships are healthy, consensual, and collaborative, most of us are very happy to be present and attentive. We devote time and energy because we genuinely want to. When things feel suffocating over Christmas, this is something I sometimes have to remind myself: “I’m here because I want to be. I’m choosing this”.

Often, that can be enough to still my irritation… or at least put it on a back burner until I’m able to vent to my husband in the pub.