10 Easy Steps To Fighting Holiday Depression: By A World-Traveling Drizzle

My tear-stained Christmas memories...

My tear-stained Christmas memories…

“This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad.”

I think Jesus wrote that.  But anyway, there are some valid points to that old field holler.  God artificially inseminated a woman (much in the same way gay men donate sperm to their lady friends) in order for his only son to be brutally and maliciously murdered some 33 years later.

For this, we should rejoice and be glad.  Glad that God decided to wait a few years before offing his son so the abortion issue could remain ambiguous, and provide for decades of drunken entertainment (both with impregnating and arguing with douche bag soccer moms)…and rejoice for it is yet again the time to face the Demons of Christmas Past that haunt us in the form of drunken mothers, abusive ex-girlfriends, and the long-forgotten California Raisins Christmas Special.

He has a phone, but yet he never calls.

He has a phone, but yet he never calls.

With this impending and paralyzing depression, that will most likely end with you throwing up Sam Adams Winter Ale (Old Fezziwig if you’re lucky) and ham outside of your bedroom window, I have devised some sure-fire ways to guarantee that this will be a holiday season you will not want to black out.

Without further adieu, I give you:

10 Easy Steps to Fighting Holiday Depression

Step 1.  Relax.  This is December.  Forgot to respond to that email that was flagged as important, and actually was important this time?  Didn’t submit your TPS reports with the correct letterhead?  Have no fear.  Nobody cares about your underperformance right now, and when you get back you can blame your laziness on your boss.  Just say, “I asked you about that before the holidays and you never responded.”  Chances are they checked out at the same time you did, so they probably won’t make a big deal about it.


For times when I just don’t feel bad enough about myself.

Step 2.  Drink.  Drinking is a relaxing way to forget your troubles and become more charming.  All my ex-girlfriends say so.  Holiday Depression typically involves an intense feeling of social anxiety.  This, coupled with an influx of holiday cards, phone calls, and e-mails, makes you afraid to turn on anything electronic, check your mailbox, or do anything that requires human interaction.  By drinking, you will not care about this crippling mental malfunction.  Go ahead, turn out the lights, put on the original Die Hard, open up your biggest bottle of Canadian Club Whiskey, and feel better, baby.

Step 3.  Repeat Step 2 as needed.

Step 4.  Feign interest.  Try to get into the Holiday Spirit.  It’s all a grand facade.  You know it.  I know it.  The American Public knows it.  But we all pretend to buy into it because we hate each other, and we hate ourselves. We are stuck in the freezing cold with each other for the next four months, and only manipulation will ensure survival.  Ask your friends how they’re doing now, so when you get into that big fight in January, and they say you don’t know anything about them, you can refer back to some bullshit they told you right before Christmas.  That’s just being a good friend.

You knew what this was.

You knew what this was.

Step 5.  Drunk Dial.  Why should you be alone?  Why should your dog be the only actual human being to listen to your problems?  Call your friend who lives on the West Coast.  Call that sorority sister you experimented with in your junior year.  Call your mom.  Your drunken enlightenment is not meant to be wasted.  Share! Share! Share!

Step 6.  Be honest.  As friends and family get together for holiday parties, chances are that you will be the topic of discussion.  Why bother trying to keep your personal life private?  Beat your TMZ-wannabe friends and family to the punch by giving them wayyyyyy more information than they want to know.  Let’s go through some scenarios:

Scenario A:

You plan a vacation get away:

Your uncle asks you in front of his young daughter, “Oh, so you’re going away?  You must be going with someone, eh?”

Your response should be something like, “Yeah, just some girl I’ve been banging.”

When your uncle asks you to watch your mouth in front of the girl, you should then follow up with, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m just answering your fuckin’ questions.”

This technique provides the best combination of passive-aggressiveness and spite.  You are merely giving the people the information they want to know.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  If things get snippy, see Step 2.

Scenario B:

It’s dinner time and you’re sitting with your family at the table.  The conversation of Facebook comes along, and someone makes reference to your sad, lonely status updates:

You should respond with a little something like this, “Yes.  last week’s was particularly sad, because I cut one of the veins on my scrotum while shaving my balls.  Now all the blood is building up in another vein because it has nowhere to go.  Pass the corn.”

Listen, some people might say, “It’s his status update, it’s no biggie to me.”  But others feel that your internet activity is someway connected to them, and that they must comment on the quality of your contributions.  So, if that’s the case, you’re free to let them in on your thoughts and feelings.  Go ahead!  Status update live!

Step 7.  Volunteer at a homeless shelter.  There are plenty of singles there, and most of them are down with BYOB.

Step 8.  Stick up for yourself, goddamnit!  For some reason, everyone thinks that their holiday stress is worse than yours.  This can result in assholes cutting you off in traffic.  Asshole family members complaining about Step 2, and former friends that feel the holidays are a good time to let go of the past, and be friendly to everyone they’ve fucked over along the way.

Bullshit.  You hold those fucking grudges, because the sweet fantasy of revenge is the only thing keeping your cold, black heart alive.  What you do is you get a jar.  Take all your empty cans that have just a little something left, and fill that jar up with it.  Then repeat Steps 2&3 about seven or eight times, then go driving.

Lean back, close your eyes, and channel your inner turmoil.  Ask your Holiday Depression:  Where is the source?  Who is the one that deserves this coal?  When you find out, you’ll know what to do with the jar.  You might want to throw it at a silver Toyota Carolla, or black Prius.  Whatevs.  It’s your choice.

Miss my bae.

Miss my bae.

Step 9. Find a TV Weatherperson to obsess over for a while.  Before she moved to the Today Show, Dylan Dreyer was my weatherperson obsession.  I would lay there at night and pretend she would be telling me about her day.  How Pete Bouchard hit on her again.

“I’m going to teach him a lesson,”  I’d say.

“No, baby, he’s not worth it.  I’m just happy to be laying in your arms right now.” She’d reply.

“Okay, but he better watch himself.”  I’d threaten.

It would go on and on in this circular conversation for hours.  It would really help me forget how much I wanted to self-harm.  It was great.

Step 10.  Get Ready.  Holiday Depression is just the HIV to an even bigger depression: Seasonal Depression.  Seasonal Depression is the AIDS of all depression, folks.  There’s no two ways about it.  See, the holidays have been jerking you along, distracting you with lights and merriment.  Now you have the cold desert of winter, with nothing to look forward to until St. Patrick’s day, an entire day devoted to Step 2.  My recommendations?  Detach.   Forget all friends and family.  Put on a new set of bed sheets, and be prepared to lie in them until April.  With all the extra electricity and heat you’re paying for, look towards a lower grade alcohol such as malt liquor and schnapps.  Remember the first year you came home from college, and weren’t able to buy booze yet?  Go back to those tactics.  Experiment.  Because you have nothing else going for you.

This guy...

This guy…

Good night, kids.  Sleep tight.