Shame Spiral
An emotional condition commonly experienced during the recovery period following extreme intoxication. The shame spiral consists of continued, connected thoughts and emotions of lack of self-worth, shame, regret, embarrassment and commitments to refuse to intoxicate oneself ever again. – The Urban Dictionary 

To experience the perfect Shame Spiral, it’s important that you start at a high point.  The success of your spiral is measured by the magnitude of your impact at the bottom.  The impressiveness of your impact is determined by the height from which you fall.

I would suggest leaving for Vegas on a Friday after work.  After a week of drudgery and a seven hour slog through desert traffic, the sight of the strip peeking over the horizon and then engulfing your car is a thrill, no matter how many times you’ve made this mistake before.  Elevate yourself further by listening to pump up hip-hop jams and enjoying a roadie as you enter the city.  So far you have only spent enough money to pay for your share of a tank of gas split four ways, you are wearing clean clothes, and you are still certain of the whereabouts of your possessions and your pride.  You are on top of the world; you are perched atop your spiral, gazing up at the lights.

Your topple down the Shame Spiral will start slow.  You can go big your first night out with minimal regrets.  Accidentally run up a bar tab larger than your rent check, lose something in a cab, send some embarrassing text messages.  You’ll laugh about these mishaps in the morning, make yourself a Bloody Mary and refuse to acknowledge you’ve begun an irreversible slide.

Seeing Vegas in the daylight after your first breathtaking view of her lights is like waking up next to a one night stand first beheld through beer goggles.  It’s best to just keep drinking.  Down that mimosa and take her to a buffet.  Feel free to go overboard.  You felt the hottest you were going to feel last night – beers, 4 a.m. waffle fries and the patriotic, spandex-based outfit you packed to wear to the USA Sevens Tournament have all ensured your self-image will only plummet from here.  You might as well have an omelet and hit up the dessert bar.

Get to the tournament as early as possible and try to stay in the sun the entire day, as this will heighten your exhaustion and your emotional reactions to minor provocation.  Make sure you are drinking faderade or some other beverage that makes it impossible to monitor the level of your consumption.  Take a lot of unflattering pictures in your spandex number that will be posted on facebook before you have a chance to get home and play un-tag defense.  Cheer so loudly that you lose your voice.

Your goal Saturday night is to be more tired and unwilling to go out than you were on Friday, but also more out of control.  Try to lose your purse, or at least most of its contents.  Have a public makeout session or accidentally fall out of your dress.  Successfully find your hotel, but not your room, and wander around until your friends (hopefully) find you.  Go to the douchiest club possible – one with rude bouncers, undanceable techno music, weird performers and $8 Miller Lights.  End the night at a dive bar with a stripper pole.  Use the stripper pole. 

Sunday morning is when your descent will take on an uncontrollable speed.  You are now running on about an eighth of the sleep you are accustomed to.  You are several showers behind.  Your destroyed voice and newly developed whooping-cough make you sound like a veteran chain smoker.  Have another Bloody Mary.  Mix more faderade.  Put on another tight, patriotic outfit, no matter the condition of your beer belly, and make it your goal to get it featured in the tournament coverage on NBC.  Know that you are in quicksand – struggling will only make this happen faster.   

Your method of hitting rock bottom is really up to you.  A Monday departure means you have an additional night of drinking followed by an entire morning in a city that you have begun to equate with hell, giving you ample time to reflect on your shortcomings and wallow in self-loathing.  Sunday night is also good, because traffic will be at its worst.  Somewhere along the way there will be an accident involving an overturned big rig that will delay you for several hours.  You’re not sure when you will finally make it home, but you do know you will be sober and well into your hangover and depression when you get there.

Try accidentally spilling an entire handle of Jack Daniels in your trunk an hour before you leave so you can suffer through the smell as you enter sobriety and reality.  Carrying home Vegas regrets via stench or illness is a good way to ensure you remain trembling at the bottom of your spiral days after your return.   

The most important thing to remember is that this too shall pass.  You are in this condition because you had a kick-ass time this weekend.  You are like a child at the end of a full day at Disneyland: the rides, the characters, the cotton candy – they were all wonderful – but your princess dress is stained, your Mickey ears have long since disappeared and there is churro on your face; you’ve had the time of your life, but all you want to do now is go limp and sob.

Happy rugby Christmas everyone!  See you next year, Vegas.