Whether you’re worried that recently passed legislation will ruin your life or frustrated that a thwarted bill could have saved humanity—or even just Georgia—there’s always a good reason to cry at Georgia’s statehouse.

You’ll likely be one of just a few people—if not the only person—on board, so feel free to let those tears flow, especially if you’re an urban planning wonk lamenting the limitations of the sluggish transit option.

Let’s face it: Little Five is weird enough that no one notices when things are mildly awry, especially some random pedestrian slouching through the neighborhood with swollen eyes and a fistful of tissues. Probably seven other people in L5P are crying right now, too.

The Beltline’s yet-to-be-paved Southside Trail is hardly the bustling attraction its Eastside counterpart has become. So if you’re on the prowl for a relatively secluded walking trail, or just want to cry about not being able to stop the looming forces of gentrification yourself, you might as well put on comfy shoes and get some exercise while boo-hooing to your heart’s content.

This one might apply mainly to advocates for good urbanism—those who don’t like seeing glorified strip malls in the middle of cities. But if you’re looking for an emotional trigger to get the teardrops a-flowin’, a visit to Midtown Promenade’s parking lot is calling your name.

Win or lose, who wouldn’t want to sob beneath the largest video board in professional sports? Plus, The Benz’s drinks and concessions are cheaper than most other major arenas, so your tear-soaked soul could be lifted from the doldrums by overindulging on $1.50 hotdogs and giant $7 craft beers. (You ARE a winner, keep in mind.)

It’s tough to not be happy with shocked amazement in this basement strip club institution. But for true misanthropes, it’s dark and smoky enough in the bowels of the Hotel Clermont to bawl your eyes out without anyone noticing—or caring.

There’s something poetic about staring out at a lake, eyes glazed over with sadness, while the sun sets, pondering the existential travesties that are your personal problems. And there’s no better place for that than here, at Atlanta’s marquee park. It’s large enough for breaking down in relative solitude, and if that doesn’t work, a visit to the wildly happy dog parks will surely cheer you up.