Dysfunctionally Functional

When I hear arguments going on in my home, not those mundane arguments over the TV or washing the plates but real serious arguments, I wonder how many other households are hearing the same arguments about weight or money or work. 'Of course they do' you'll instantly say. 'Everybody has the same problems', 'nobody is perfect'. Would you say this would make a family dysfunctional therefore? No, probably not. But then what do we define as dysfunctional? In the eyes of society we don't admit that our fathers have drinking problems, our brothers need to lose weight, our sisters seem to have a jealousy complex that makes them resent us, or that our mothers take on far too much and everyone suffers as a consequence because she IS what makes this family 'function'. It's easy to get lost in what can be defined as functional consequently. Maybe our perceptions of what society should accept are making us dysfunctional in our bid to be functioning. Or rather to try and be what we are expected to be only proves that we are not and provides as complete and desperate irony. The notion of a 'functioning family' has changed over time; a single-parent family is no longer 'dysfunctional', divorce is no longer 'dysfunctional', families where teenage daughters too have children is no longer 'dysfunctional'. Since when has any domestic sitcom given a prime example of a fully functioning family? In order to keep viewers entertained our aired faux-families often have to deal with incest, death, prison and adultery all under the same roof. Narcissistically we are gratified by the misfortunes of others for our own entertainment and pleasure. Likewise coming from a dysfunctional family has become an excuse for failure, a stereotype to describe the unruly or the bad and even glamorous in terms of what defines you as cool or popular.

I guess my misanthropy makes ME dysfunctional, I can all but wonder whether there is such a thing as a definite 'functional' anything, and whilst we can think our household lot is better or worse than our neighbours, friends or acquaintances from the outside we won't ever know. I hope after such soul-searching that I will never worry again whether my family is 'ok' or 'right' as I don't think such a definition exists. But wouldn't life be simple if a template could be applied to everything, and lest we be judged accordingly and know once and for all whether we exceed or fall short of what we are meant to be.