A bout of the holiday blues
a SUIT column by Chris Jungle

Well, it happened. I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't ask for it or subconsciously put myself in bad situations, but I fell victim to the all-powerful depression bug that floats around during the holiday season. It gave no warning of coming either. I was in a pleasant setting, too. A nice, big flake snow had blanketed the ground, and I was thinking how soothing a good snow fall could be as I went to see a friend's percussion recital. During the recital, something snapped in my head, or at least, it sounded like a snap. Suddenly, I didn't want to care about anything. I didn't care about the recital, or anybody there, or my job, or my novel, or anything. There was no real reason for my mood swing, but I'm still at a loss for why it happened. After the recital was over and everybody scuttled into the green room for the reception, I took one look at everyone chatting and smiling and eating and carrying on, and I knew I wouldn't have been able to deal with it. One thing about being depressed is that happy people piss you off to no end.

I got out of there as quick as I could and went home looking for something to take my mind off my mind. I finished the last twenty pages of Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut in which the human race evolves into some sort of seal creature. Not exactly a pick-me-up. Next, I tried a traditional feel good method of calling an old friend who would be willing to listen me babble on about the sad, pointless world around me, and as if it was willed by the Holiday Gods themselves, he wasn't home either time I called. Depression-2, Happy Happy Joy Joy Chris-0.

I don't know what happens to other people in their depressed states, but one of the side effects for me is I become one of the most clumsy beasts in the world. I walk through a room bumping into things, spilling drinks, slamming shins into furniture, and cussing up a storm after each infraction. Maybe my subconscious does have ulterior motives.

Once the depression had been swimming in my head for a good three hours, I decided there was no use fighting it. I wasn't going to cheer up no matter what anyone told me. Freud, himself, could have come over with high-priced escorts saying "Chris, you just need to roll in the sack with these beautiful ladies of sexual pleasure for profit. My treat," and I would have told him I had no idea why I had to learn about all of his crap theories in college and didn't want to entertain at the moment. If there's one positive about being depressed, it's that you can come up with an insult for everyone.

After mumbling for a half an hour about how tedious and irrelevant everything I do is, it was time to put a depressive night cap on the evening. I popped open a beer and watched the movie Naked. I have a tendency sometimes to equate my life with the main character who rapes women, rambles long after anyone is interested, reads anything, and gets the crap beaten out of him by a bunch of punk kids. Don't ask me why.

The next day was still a downer, but it was much more deluded than the night before. Instead of contemplating my wasteful thoughts, I just didn't think about much at all. By the next day, I started actually thinking positive thoughts. I must have caught a 48-hour depression bug. That's good because sometimes depression can linger on like bronchitis.

The point of this little tale (if somebody is still curious) is that it's the depression time of year. People are reflecting on what they've done in the past year, and for some, it doesn't seem like much of anything. While some are full of Christmas cheer, others are feeling down. On top of that, they feel down that they're feeling down while others are chipper. There's no telling when or why it'll hit or when it will go away, and no matter how much people around them try to cheer them up, it won't work.

Well, I just wanted to say that it's okay to feel bad during the holidays. Some of our clearest thinking is done with an evil eye and blackened heart. Nobody gets depressed on purpose. It just sort of happens, and you end up dealing with depression on its own level which means a bunch of moping, pissing, whining, and tormenting yourself. Just remember that like happiness, we can't be depressed all of the time. Just because we dig ourselves holes to sit in and hide from the world doesn't we're stuck in there forever. Stay there as long as you want, but don't forget to come out sometime.

Chris Jungle claims watching Fritz the Cat brightened his outlook on life again, but the FDA refuses to give the okay signal for this alternative medicine technique.

return to the Shut up, I'm talking page
return to the LIES home page
return to the A&A home page