The Season of Stupid: My One Man War against Christmas


I’ve been rehearsing in my head how I could write this without sounding like a complete dick and I’ve thus far not been successful.


Oh well, here goes. Deep breath. And –

– I despise Christmas.

No, I really mean it. I’m not kidding. Everybody seems like space aliens to me this time of year. It’s like looking through a weird anthropological lens watching other peoples’ behaviour. Quite uncomfortable to be around, in fact.


Because it’s like everybody’s on drugs or something and I get people doing things like trying to hug me… a forced intimacy that I don’t welcome. Especially not from the type of people who wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire the other 364 days of the year but now suddenly wanna have bum-sex with me or something.

Hahahaha. Okay, okay, okay, so maybe that’s me exaggerating a bit…

But my reflex is to shrink into myself like a tortoise whenever someone tries to do that uninvited.

The fact is, I seem to be immune to whatever strange gas gets pumped into the atmosphere every December. I don’t get the same mushy emotions as other people and – if I’m truthful – I can’t wait for the whole ordeal to be over.

I’ve been like this for a long time. Christmas just doesn’t do anything for me. In fact, my antipathy is so bad that I make a tradition of watching slasher movies and eating pizza on my own on Christmas day.

…God I really do sound like a misanthropic asshole here, don’t I? Just hateful. I’m perhaps digging myself a hole here.

But I can’t help it.

It’s not that I begrudge other people having a good time and it’s not that I’m anti-religious (hey, to each their own), it’s just, I think, more of a cognitive dissonance issue.

That is to say that, given my atheism and my own sorta materialistic-mechanistic outlook of the world, I find that that there’s far too much saccharine for little ol’ me to handle at this time of year.

So I do my hermit thing, eat pizza, watch Zombie Flesh Eaters and cheer on Al Pacino as he tells Steven Bauer how Miami is “one big pussy waiting to be fucked” in Scarface.

And that’s my 25th of December. That’s my tradition – of sorts.

Under normal circumstances I deactivate my social media at this time of year in a desperate attempt to get away from all the tinsel and saccharine on the interwebs, but this year I need to keep active on Facebook because I’ve recently become an administrator on the Your Choice, Your Recovery forum.

It’s a great forum, by the way. For anybody who struggles with alcohol (particularly anybody struggling with it at this time of year) it’s of particular interest as it has some really good resources about The Sinclair Method and has a really good, supportive community on there.

Another one worth checking out is the Options Save Lives message board. Lots of really good people on there.

On a final note, despite my recent posts (see HERE and HERE) about falling out of love with Quora, I’ve found myself back on there writing some stuff again – hey, what can I say? She’s a demanding mistress. Hahaha.

This time I couldn’t resist answering this question:

(Click on image to open link in a new tab)

I just couldn’t help myself.

The problem? Well… I worry that my enthusiasm to get the message out there and to make a stand against the misinformation, disinformation and confusion out there about TSM has the unfortunate effect of making me sound rather “ranty”… like a nutty conspiracy theorist at times.

But the fact is, this is serious and I’ve been around long enough – living, eating and breathing The Sinclair Method for nigh on five years now – to be quite sure of my facts.

The difficulty is, given how much I owe to The Sinclair Method,  trying to keep my emotions out of my prose – which isn’t easy because I do get very emotional when I think of David Sinclair.

Though I never met the man, I cherish my memories of my e-mail correspondence with him (in which he revealed himself to be an absolute sweetheart of a man with an adorably impish sense of humour) and I can’t help but feel that it was a massive injustice that he was never awarded a Nobel for his contribution to the science of addiction.

Oh well…

Anyway, I may re-edit that response on Quora. It occurs to me that I engage in a bit too much Stanton Peele-bashing (haha! my favourite hobby these days) and perhaps could do with citing some other examples.

Okay, well I have nothing else to report for now. Thanks for reading.


Peace and love,




Author: Gary Bell

Gary Bell is a writer, illustrator and teacher based in Hartlepool in the north east of England. The Sinclair Method (a revolutionary pharmacological treatment for alcohol addiction) saved his life over 5 years ago.

5 thoughts on “The Season of Stupid: My One Man War against Christmas”

  1. I get your point. Looks like what you despise about Christmas is the fake-love-you-all and hypocritical showing of affection (not to mention the feverish rush to buying-unwanted/uncared-gifts-silly-stuff-to-stuff-in-the-cellar-as-soon-as-Christmas-ends), BUT. Christmas is not about that.
    It really can be something sweet and special. Not about gifts, not about hugging, not about family dinners /lunches. About some special (maybe silly) feeling you carry inside. It’s about enjoying a moment that is only yours, where you spoil yourself with all those little things that you enjoy (personally it’s about old classic movies with a nice glass of champagne ( ?? … I said spoiled, remember ?) and little light things to snack… a walk in the morning… enjoying the quietness that you don’t have other days (even Sundays)…
    so… yes, I do love this period… look forward to it (no rush though because I don’t want it to pass too soon.., ?)..

    1. Hi B.

      Looks like what you despise about Christmas is the fake-love-you-all and hypocritical showing of affection (not to mention the feverish rush to buying-unwanted/uncared-gifts-silly-stuff-to-stuff-in-the-cellar-as-soon-as-Christmas-ends)

      Yeah, that sums it up pretty well.

      It’s not that I begrudge other people enjoying themselves… not at all – hey, people deserve a good time… it’s just that I have issues around personal space… that and, on some level, I’m perhaps slightly emotionally colour blind when it comes to the significance of Christmas.

      I would have said that it’s an atheist thing, but I’m not so sure as I was surprised to find that an atheist friend of mine actually gets quite sentimental about Christmas – which I find interesting because whereas (despite my atheism) I’m not anti-religious in any way whatsoever – I champion peoples’ right to believe or disbelieve in a Higher Power as they see fit – and have plenty of friends and family members who are believers, she’s quite militant; so it surprises me that Christmas has this effect on her, you know?

      1. I know what you mean. And to me it doesn’t have anything to do with religion. I have been christened as a catholic, but I developed my own personal (probably weird, certainly unconventional) spirituality.
        About people and space… I think that introverts like us are often misunderstood and can get tired of the fitting in parade (put on for the sake of being left alone). Notice that almost all the things I listed are “me-time” related. Although the occasional meeting the crowd is fun (it’s when it goes beyond of what I can take that it gets tiring and makes me run away )…

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