The Evening My Christmas Spirit Vanished on the Couch (A Story for Tired Working Mums)

A working mum on the couch at the end of the day, feeling completely run down

For every working mum who’s ever found herself on the couch at 7 pm, staring at the mess and feeling like her Christmas spirit quietly packed its bags and left – this story is for you.

This isn’t a story about magical elves or perfect Instagram Christmases. It’s about the night my Christmas spirit quietly quit, and what it showed me about the invisible mental load so many of us are carrying.

That Evening on the Couch: When My Christmas Spirit Checked Out

I sat on the couch with my head heavy in my hands. I had had enough. I was completely emotionally spent. I had nothing left to give.

That’s it, I thought. The Christmas spirit has gone out of me. The Christmas Elf on the Shelf and elf babies won’t be up to any mischief in the days leading up to Christmas. I had no energy left for creatively coming up with a strange or naughty thing for the elf to do. I wasn’t up to scratching my head for places it could hide.

No, I was shifting into self-preservation mode. The mode where mechanical Mama comes out with calls of command and control, and the children march to the rhythm of order and obey.

As for my enthusiasm for hosting the family Christmas party that no one wanted to host – well, that desire had gone from 100 to zero within minutes. Christmas was not cancelled, but I had checked out of the holiday spirit. I would idle here in indifference.

Why That Evening Broke Me More Than Usual

So what had got me to this place of "I’ve got nothing left to give"?

Well, I’d had a full day at the clinic consulting. This meant a day of convincing, clarifying, explaining and emphasising, liaising and relaying information, arranging meetings and appointments.

Then, on the drive from work to school pick-up, I listened to an audiobook on How to Be the Parent You Always Wanted to Be. I needed some reminders for when I picked my children up from school.

It was hot when we got back home. The dirty breakfast dishes were still in the sink. The oat bowls had dried oats firmly crusted on, like ceramic embellishments around the bowl. The oats cooking pot was overflowing with the milky white water of the leftover oat residue. Both mine and my husband's coffee cups were standing like spectators around the rim of the ditch-like sink.

I hadn’t eaten much that day: a banana and a large soy cappuccino on the way to work; a cup of plain yoghurt, mango, toasted pumpkin and sunflower seeds and chia seed sprinkling for lunch at 12.30 pm, followed by a handful of almond nuts. The best part was having that yoghurt snack outside on the sunny balcony of our offices.

So when I got home, I was hungry, but too hungry to make myself food. Thankfully, we had enough leftovers from dinner for the girls to have a complete meal. It was butter chicken, flatbread, cucumber and yoghurt salad, fresh sautéed green beans and last night’s cold broccoli.

I reheated everything to feed our grateful girls. I ate morsels of food here and there. The girls ate and enjoyed the food, and I asked that they do the dishes – half each.

My eldest finished first, loaded a few dishes, then carried on her merry way to do her school project. I sat with my youngest as she ate and we joked around – we both had fun – until it was time for her to do her share of the dishes, except she did not think it was fair. She felt her sister hadn't done enough dishes, and should wipe the food smearings and water spills off the dinner table.

I felt the energy draining out of me. Like, seriously. After all I’ve been doing and do for you, I thought.

But, seeing the tears of frustration in my youngest daughter's eyes, I decided to hear her out and try practising the audiobook parenting techniques I'd memorised earlier. I responded with the facts, acknowledged her feelings, then fumbled to figure out a calm, compassionate parent response. It didn’t work.

In the end, I went downstairs to get her older sister to come back and load more dirty dishes into the dishwasher. She did – except the older sister was now also complaining about the amount of work she had to do. The cacophany of complaints was too much to bear any longer. I told my eldest daughter to go back downstairs, and she tearfully stomped downstairs to continue working on her school project.

I lost it. And as calmly as I could muster, told my youngest daughter to leave and that I would do it all, but tomorrow they could do their lunches and water bottles. I had to self-preserve.

I finished hand-washing the rest of the dishes, loaded the soap into the dishwasher, turned it on and sat on the couch with my head in my hands - exhausted. And that’s where you found me at the beginning of this piece: resentful and relinquishing the Christmas spirit of fun.

The Buckets We Pour From (And What Happens When They’re Empty)

Interestingly, having gotten to this point of my writing, I now feel my Christmas spirit gradually, insidiously refilling. Part of the reason I feel hope rising again in my chest is - because much like retail - writing is therapy (only cheaper). However, there's another reason why...

As I sat on that couch, another idea filled my weary head. The idea that you need to 'fill like with like'. Let me explain with some examples.

If you want to lose weight, you need to watch what you put in your mouth.

If you want to get fitter and stronger, you need to exercise.

Similarly, if you’re emotionally drained, you need an emotional refill.

If you’re mentally exhausted, you need a mental refill.

If you’re physically tired from work, you need physical exercise or movement that is fun and not functional or chore-filled.

So it is with us. We have buckets from which we give – emotional bucket, mental bucket, physical bucket, spiritual bucket and so on. Sometimes you can top up the other buckets more to make up for the deficit in the one that’s running low or on empty. However, eventually and ultimately, you need to address the relevant bucket and 'fill like with like'.

Filling Like With Like: How My Christmas Spirit Slowly Returned

That evening on the couch, I was emotionally drained. However, writing down what happened and how I felt helped me see through the haze of negative phrases that had been clouding my thinking: phrases like "I'm ruining Christmas" and " I'm not good at parenting". Writing my feelings refilled my emotional cup...for more giving.

So, will the elf get up to mischief tomorrow? Right now, I think – maybe.

So, If Your Christmas Spirit Has Quietly Quit Too, You’re Not Alone

If you’re reading this and remembering yourself exasperated on your couch, or standing fuming at a sink full of dirty dishes, or noticing how quickly you slip into mechanical-mum mode, I want you to know: nothing is wrong with you. You’re not ungrateful, a bad parent or the Grinch that stole Christmas. You’re probably just pouring from buckets that are already empty.

Are you a working mum carrying the mental and emotional load for everyone?

If you’re juggling career, kids, home and everyone’s needs – and some days you feel exhausted, overstretched and running on autopilot, you’re not alone.

If you’d like to find the roses among the thorny bits of Christmas (or any other time of the year), you’re in the right place.

Pop your name and email in the box below, and I’ll send you real stories, gentle reflections and practical, evidence-based ideas from a Health & High-Performance Doctor for Women who’s also a working mum. Go from exhausted and overwhelmed to feeling more energised, calmer and in control – without guilt, perfectionism or adding more “shoulds” to your to-do list.

No algorithms, no perfection pressure – just a doctor, a mum and a human writing to you directly about how to refill your buckets and stay sane when the rest of the world is driving you mad.

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A Small Question for You Today

Before you go home today or get into bed tonight, take a quiet moment and ask yourself:

Which of my buckets is emptiest right now – emotional, mental, physical or spiritual?

Then choose one small, kind thing you can do to refill just that one bucket. It might be a hot shower in peace, a few stretches, writing a few lines in a notebook, or stepping outside to look at the night sky. Tiny actions count.

You don't have to drudge through this Christmas on empty.

About Dr Masi – Health & High-Performance Doctor for Women

Hi, I’m Dr Masi, a Women's Sport, Exercise & Lifestyle Medicine doctor and a working mum. I help women optimise their health so they have the energy to perform at their best at work, in sport, at home and in life – without sacrificing their health or happiness.

Through HERSELF HEALTH, I share real stories, evidence-based advice and practical tools to help working women go from exhausted and overwhelmed to energised and in control.