Jessica Mason guides us through the dark, blue days of January…
Last Monday was ‘Blue Monday’. It was the first day of the first week of term: Monday the 16th of January. Blue Monday is supposedly the saddest day of the year because all the celebrations are over and the darkness of January begins to settle in. It can feel like there is nothing to look forward to, and the sun is nowhere to be seen. What a way to kickstart the term…
For me, January has always felt very desolate. Everything seems still; everything is frozen in its sad blue-grey tones; nature dies. And this January, it was like a part of me died too. ‘Blue Week’ seems a more pertinent term than ‘Blue Monday’. My planner was teeming with tasks: sort out lecture timetable, plan essay, write essay, reply to that email from that tutor, read this, and that, go to that seminar, meet this friend, sort this out, sort that out. It felt crowded. I am in a weird place in my life right now and it feels like everything is holding its breath. Although I’m constantly running around from place to place with a tote bag so full of books that it’s slowly bending my spine, it feels like I’m waiting. I am waiting for something to change. Amongst the cold greys and whites of winter there is a distinct emptiness. ‘Blue Monday’ was first calculated by measuring the number of flights that people were booking to foreign countries. When our surroundings leave us dispirited, we try to escape to paradise. It’s an attempt to fill our future with saturated colours and sunlight. I think Blue Monday is so blue because we feel like we’re missing something. January leaves us trudging around doing the same old things, but it’s like we’re living in that awful wan blue filter that they used in the Twilight movies.
It feels really hard sometimes to just go about our days when we’re not coaxed through them by sunshine that dwindles only after 9pm, or bright colours that actively make us want to go outside. I’ve reached the point where my alarm goes off in the morning and I just stare at my wall in a state of complete exasperation because my bed is cosy and warm and I know that I will be shivering as I half-shuffle, half-jog to the bathroom.
But I think there is also value to be found in these harsher winter months. January is the time for new beginnings. This is the time where we can sit in the frozen silence and work out what we want for ourselves, before the sunshine and the bright colours return. Winter is a time to reflect and to grow. We can take a breath and really look at ourselves. I’ve been learning how to bring myself comfort, and how to be kind to my desperate little existence.
One of my friends sat me down recently and told me that I needed to be gentle with myself. It often feels like Oxford expects a lot from us. The pressure can be crushing some days, but it’s important to just take yourself out of this isolated social sphere every now and then. For example, I like watching trashy tv shows, or going on walks down the canal. It makes me feel like a person, after playing at being a soulless academic machine all day. Last Thursday I was feeling really overwhelmed and when I got back to my room I dramatically flung myself onto my bed, and then eventually convinced myself to go to the kitchen and make some pesto pasta (I’m currently in my chef era). When I got to the kitchen three of my friends were there eating at the table, and they stuck around and waited for me to cook and eat so we could spend some time together. I think there is something so beautiful about the simplicity of those moments. We exchanged stories about our day and ate in each other’s quiet company. We were all so exhausted but when I got back to my room it felt like I had been inflated again. The simple act of speaking to friends helped bring me out of my sulk and made me feel lighter.
I have hope for better days of warmth and sunny colours. I know I will feel whole again one day. But for now, it’s important to be gentle with myself; watch trash tv, go on walks, and have dinner with my friends. These things are my sunlight in these harsh blue months.
