Under the neon glow of the oppressive white LEDs wrapped around corpo plasti-pressed branches, pine leaves that will never decompose, I sat in the darkness. My screens flickered across my retinas - showing the nightmare of the news of the day. My eyes drifted to the scant presents beneath the tree, seeking hope that the displays could not provide. I released a sigh and slumped into the pleather couch, wishing I dared to have smuggled my inhaler full of the only substance that eases my ongoing anxiety about the world across state lines. But ending up in the transport authority's gulag would have been a far worse fate than sitting alone with my anxieties on Christmas Eve morning in my family's house.