'Tis the Season

"Happy Christmas, your arse-
I pray God it's our last." - Fairytale of New York

Once it was common knowledge that there's an increase in suicides during the holidays, but researchers have shattered that myth (next on their plate: yawns really aren't contagious).

Lest you forget, everything that you think you know is wrong. Halleluia! If it's a theory, I have conflicting evidence. If it's a mathematical proof, I can show you the error in your calculations. All facts are subject to interpretation, and all interpretations are fundamentally flawed.

How lucky we are to be living in the post-truth era! How sad for those primitives who still think anything can be objectively determined!

Where once we had to cope with the idea of some poor fool blowing his head off because he can't handle another holiday season, we now realize that he's just as likely to do so six months in advance. A suicide on Christmas Eve is too poignant...let's keep them spread out on March 18th, August 20th, September 4th...any day where it's insignificant and merely statistical.

Because why would anyone kill themselves during this festive time of the year? It can't be that they feel alone when the entire world is focusing on family and fellowship. It can't be that they're bombarded with memories of Christmases past, gone now forever. It couldn't be that the season of purchasing exacerbates those gnawing money issues (sorry sweetie, Santa can't afford a bike...he can't afford the mortgage, either).

Perhaps teenagers who stay home the night of the prom kill themselves no more often than those that get to go.

Perhaps suicide is Russian Roulette, going off more or less at random. Because who the hell knows why those crazies do what they do, right? Don't blame Christmas just because a bunch of psychos try to ruin it with their selfish weakness.

It's hard enough just attending all those parties and buying all those gifts and getting together with all those friends and family members and eating and drinking and singing and laughing. That kind of thing is stressful enough...even without some dumbass who doesn't have the common decency to wait until mid-January to hang themselves.

After all, it will still be dark and cold throughout January and February. You'll still be alone. You'll still have nothing to look forward to, and nothing to show for it.

Though it may be common knowledge, it's still just a myth; as bleak and horrible and hopeless as it seems this time of year, it's only as bleak and horrible and hopeless as any other time. The only real difference is that it seems more unjust than usual.