A friend with some medical troubles said her doctor rather obliquely suggested she needed to find Jesus/Buddha/Mohammed/L. Ron Hubbard/Ganesh and get happy. For those of us who regard organized religion as a pathology, that's not much of an option. Fresh out of deities, I couldn't offer much help. On the other hand, I did survive a hellish year, which is worth something. So, in a presumptuous bit of grandstanding, I offered my strategies for not killing myself:
-- Develop a simplistic and vaguely positive mantra, like, "It's gonna be okay," or, "You're gonna be all right."
-- Walk or hike a lot. Trail therapy works.
-- Avoid TV.
-- Remember that there are people who love you.
-- Exercise. Sweating is usually more therapeutic than crying.
-- Read, even those books that hit a little too close to home. "Anna Karenina," for instance.
-- Eat well. You know what your body likes.
-- Keep in mind this advice from Robert A. Heinlein: "To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. Moderation is for monks."
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