Surviving the Holidays With Minimal PTSD


A week and a half has passed since the end of the holidays. Somehow, it seems most of us have survived the harrowing adventures of over-feeding, queries about grades and seemingly endless bachelorhood, and increases in day-drinking. Reflection on survival strategies have been created, tested, and will now be described. Presumably, just in time to forget it all next year and once again venture into holiday season with optimism. 
Survival Strategy One: Constantly send and receive snapchats of the animals your parents bought to replace you. Try not to think about how they’re easier to take care of than you are. 
Survival Strategy Two (The Hunter S Thompson approach): 12 pm, wake up to your weird aunt (or uncle) ranting about the cinematic merits of a documentary on her child that she directed herself. Consume one coffee, spiked with bailey’s if you’re festive and bourbon if you’re serious. Also take two tums and a ginger tea for the hangover. 3 pm, go for a nature walk in the last remaining shitty forest in your shitty suburb. Find the place in that shitty forest that permanently smells like weed from all those sneaky high school kids and light up. If you smoke cigarettes, have one of those on the walk back to mask the smell. 4 pm, it is now acceptable under the Holidays with the Relatives clause to drink heavily spiked eggnog with no effort to hide your inebriation. 5 pm, an advil to deal with the headache resulting from a minor scuffle with a sibling, lie down and stare at the ceiling until your brain recovers. 6 pm, swipe through tinder rather than engaging your loved ones at dinner. Anybody who is as desperate as you are this holiday season is probably crazy in the sack, and probably also just crazy in general. 7 pm, you should by now be in an alcohol-induced fog, time to bring your A-game, this is what you’ve been training for. 9 pm – 1 am, alternate between nursing drinks and binging, and generally avoiding everyone else who has been unable to politely decline the invitation to a joyous family gathering. 1 am – 3 am, 2 tylenol, a night cap, and a muted porno. 3:30 am, pass out, safe from shame and despair due to the astonishing distance between you and anything resembling sober consciousness.
Survival Strategy Three: Fantasize about making a candy cane shank and stabbing every person in the mall. How many people could you stab before you get taken down? 
Survival Strategy Four: books, good headphones, and insisting that this is the way you show people love (by giving everybody their space). 
Survival Strategy Five: puzzles are calming and family-friendly, except when they’re neither of those things because fuck you, that’s why. 
Survival Strategy Six: Two words: Hotline. Bling.
Survival Strategy Seven: you can avoid the ‘new year, new you’ shit if you don’t remember the countdown, and certainly don’t remember your resolution to get kicked out of less bars this time around.
I don’t want to end this article properly so I’m not going to.