Thanksgiving When You Don't Want to Do the Things

A neurodivergent's guide to surviving a holiday built for people who don't get overwhelmed by loud relatives, weird textures, and mandatory gratitude performances.

Happy Thanksgiving! Or, as I like to call it: Sensory Hellscape Day featuring Obligation Theater and an appearance by your aunt who still doesn't believe ADHD is real.

If you're reading this, there's a good chance you're already dreading today. Or maybe you're hiding in a bathroom right now, phone in hand, taking a "break" that's really just you trying to remember how to breathe normally. Either way—hi. I see you. You're valid. And no, you don't have to want to "do the things" to be a good person.

The Thing About Thanksgiving That Nobody Talks About

Thanksgiving is a sensory and social perfect storm specifically designed to overwhelm neurodivergent nervous systems.

Let's inventory what we're dealing with:

• Routine disruption — Your entire schedule is thrown off for a day built around a meal at a weird time
• Sensory overload — Loud conversations, competing noises, strong smells, temperature fluctuations, unfamiliar environments
• Food challenges — Texture nightmares, pressure to eat things that make your body want to leave the chat
• Social demands — Small talk, eye contact, performing gratitude, navigating relatives who don't understand you
• Masking marathon — Hours of pretending to be "normal" while your internal battery drains to zero
• Emotional labor — Managing everyone else's feelings while trying not to implode

Research shows that 56% of adults with ADHD struggle to organize and function during the holidays, and over half of neurodivergent adults find holiday gatherings socially challenging. So if you're struggling? You're actually in the majority of our community.

Permission Slip: You Don't Have to Want This

Here's your official permission slip, signed by a fellow neurodivergent who's spent too many Thanksgivings white-knuckling through dinner:

You are allowed to:

• Not want to go
• Leave early
• Skip entirely
• Hide in the bathroom
• Eat beforehand so you're not hungry when the weird casseroles come out
• Bring your own safe foods
• Wear headphones
• Take breaks
• Not perform gratitude on command
• Protect your nervous system

Setting boundaries around holiday gatherings isn't selfish—it's an act of self-preservation. Honoring your need for regulation isn't optional; it's the embodied wisdom your nervous system requires to navigate this season with integrity.

Survival Strategies (That Actually Work for Our Brains)

Before You Go

Scout the situation: Find out who's going to be there, what the layout looks like, where you can retreat if needed. Information reduces anxiety.

Prepare your exits: Decide in advance how long you'll stay and what your escape plan looks like. Having a way out makes being there more tolerable.

Pack your survival kit: Noise-canceling headphones, fidgets, your own food if needed, comfort items that help you regulate. This isn't being "high maintenance"—it's self-accommodation.

Pre-eat or bring safe foods: If the food situation is going to be a minefield, eat something comforting before you go. Bring a dish you can actually eat.

Set expectations with family: A simple "We're looking forward to coming, but we may need to leave early" or "I might step away for breaks" can prevent drama later.

While You're There

Find your quiet zone: Identify a calm space you can retreat to—a quiet room, outside, the car. Having an escape hatch reduces panic.

Take strategic breaks: Don't wait until you're at crisis level. Take small breaks throughout to regulate before you hit overwhelm.

Use a code word or signal: If you're with a partner or trusted person, have a signal that means "I need to leave" without having to explain in front of everyone.

Volunteer for escape tasks: Offer to walk the dog, take kids to the playground, run to the store. It's socially acceptable AND gets you out of the chaos.

Limit your masking: You don't have to perform neurotypical for anyone. If you need to wear headphones during dinner, do it. If you need to stim, stim.

After You Survive

Build in recovery time: Don't schedule anything the next day. Your nervous system needs time to recover from the overstimulation.

Don't judge your reactions: If you were irritable, if you shutdown, if you had a meltdown—that's your nervous system doing its job. You're not broken.

Redefine success: Success isn't "I acted normal and nobody noticed I was struggling." Success is "I honored my needs and I survived."

The Part Where I Get Real About Family

Some of us have families that don't understand. Some of us have families that actively make things worse. Some of us have families we're better off not seeing.

The stigma surrounding mental health and neurodivergence can amplify feelings of shame or pressure to explain yourself. You do NOT need to educate anyone about your brain today. You don't owe anyone an explanation for why you're "being weird" or "antisocial" or "not eating the cranberry sauce."

And if your family is toxic? If being there genuinely harms you? It is okay to not go. It is okay to start new traditions. It is okay to protect yourself.

Recovery taught me that boundaries aren't punishment—they're protection. And sometimes the most grateful thing you can do for yourself is give yourself permission to opt out.

For Those of Us in Recovery

If you're in recovery, holidays add another layer of complexity. Family gatherings can be triggering. There might be alcohol present. Old dynamics surface. Emotions run high.

Some things that help:

• Go to a meeting before or after (or both)
• Have your sponsor's number ready
• Know your exit plan
• HALT check yourself (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired—don't get too any of those)
• Remember that your sobriety matters more than anyone's expectations

Your recovery is the most important thing you're protecting today. Nothing on that table is worth your clean time. No one's opinion is worth your serenity.

Redefining What Thanksgiving Can Be

Here's a radical thought: Thanksgiving doesn't have to look like the Hallmark version.

Maybe your Thanksgiving is ordering takeout and watching movies alone. Maybe it's a video call instead of in-person. Maybe it's a small gathering of chosen family who actually get you. Maybe it's ignoring the holiday entirely and treating it like any other Thursday.

All of these are valid. All of these are okay.

The goal isn't a "perfect" holiday. The goal is getting through with your nervous system intact and your recovery protected. That's it. That's success.

From One Space Cadet to Another

If you're reading this from a bathroom floor, or a car in the driveway working up courage to go in, or from your couch having decided not to go at all—I'm proud of you.

You're doing something hard. You're navigating a world that wasn't built for your brain, during a holiday that wasn't designed with your needs in mind. And you're still here.

Be gentle with yourself today. Take the breaks. Leave when you need to. Eat the things that feel safe. Protect your peace.

And if all else fails, remember: This day is temporary. You will survive it. And there's a whole community of us out here who understand exactly what you're going through.

Welcome to the neurodivergent Thanksgiving survival club. We get it. 🚀

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If today is especially hard because of where you are in recovery, please reach out to your sponsor, go to a meeting, or call a crisis line if you need support. Your sobriety matters. Your mental health matters. You matter.

Mars | Space Cadet Collective