First off, let’s bury the Big Lie. You know that old chestnut about suicide rates spiking around the holidays?

Well, ho-ho-ho, it just ain't so. The Holiday Blues may well be pandemic this time of year, but apparently seasonal self-loathing does not translate into holiday self-slaughter.

Though you may be surprised to learn when the Grim Reaper does accept a large number of personal invitations.

According to Centers for Disease Control, the number of people who kill themselves in the holiday months of November and December is in fact the lowest for the year. During the holidays, across America, about 78 people take their own lives every day. The rest of the year, the average daily toll is close to 84.

So, however loathsome this season of joy might be to millions, at least it's not lethal -- that is, not immediately.

As for the peak months for doing yourself in, T.S. Eliot was pretty close to the mark. April may not be the cruelest month, but it's apparently still pretty vicious. April Fools' Day kicks off the carnage with 85 deaths, and the toll climbs steadily to over 90 deaths per day by the first week of May.

So it is not the ho-ho-ho of the holidays, but the tra-la-la of springtime that will do you in. That, plus the first payments from the previous season of excess come due -- but that's my own personal theory.

If you're young and you think you can dodge the sickle till spring, I've got some news that's good or bad, depending on your mood.

"Intentional self-harm," as the CDC so blandly puts it, is the No. 3 way for young adults aged 15 to 24 to die -- preceded by unintentional injury and homicide. For adults 25 to 34, it's the second most common means of demise.

And middle age offers little relief, because the suicide rate accelerates till age 55.

For the overall population, with about 30,000 people killing themselves annually in America, the rate is 10.7 per 100,000. For ages 24-34, the rate is 12.8. From 35 to 55, the rate jumps to 14.6. After that, death by disease steals the stage.

Is jolly ol' Kris Kringle a natural-born killer? Bah, humbug, say the stats. However unhappy your holidays may be, Nature apparently conspires with Culture to keep you alive till spring. Then, with the world all abloom, the heart turns blackest.

So I say, down the eggnog, nosh another latke and enjoy the short and brutish days of what turns out to be the kindest of all seasons.

Browse The
December 12, 2002
Issue

Join the
City Paper
Mailing List

Popular Articles

The Fall Guy

The student the School District blamed for the violence at South Philadelphia High School shares his story. It's not the same one District officials have been telling.

Reinventing Arlen

One year after he fled the GOP, Pa.'s senior senator is scratching and clawing to do what he does best: survive.

Seuss Chef

Environmental lip service takes a back seat to tasty a.m. fare at Green Eggs Café.

The Climb

Behind Ladder 15's Ansill-fied revamp.

The Next Movement

Oh! Pears' Corey Duncan is assembling an ambitious rock orchestra.

CP Photostream

User Photos
Submitted Through Flickr.