Change Doesn’t Just Happen in January: and Other Thoughts on Reflection and the Holiday Blues
“This is real. Your eyes reading this text,
your hands, your breath, the time of day, the place where you are reading this—these
things are real. I’m real too. I am not an avatar, a set of preferences, or
some smooth cognitive force; I’m lumpy and porous, I’m an animal, I hurt
sometimes, and I’m different one day to the next. I hear, I see, I smell things
in a world where others also hear, see, and smell me. And it takes a break to
remember that: a break to do nothing, to just listen, to remember in the
deepest sense what, when, and where we are.”
—Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy
It’s January. Which means you’ve survived another year. It’s also 2020, which means you’ve survived another decade. We’ve survived another year, another decade, another day on this incredibly stressful planet known as Earth where being a person can be an absolute nightmare. Let’s celebrate that!
January—at least the first week or so—also means it’s a time for everyone to reflect, and thanks to social media, everyone has felt the need to reflect on their year and their decade and what they hope to accomplish in the decade to come. And that’s great! I sincerely mean it. But I still hate January and I still hate being made to feel inadequate just because we humans once decided that the beginning of January is a new year which gives everyone an excuse to make resolutions they won’t keep and reflections on how great or how shitty their year was. In other words, time is a social construct. Time is real, yes, but when it starts to convince you that January is the best time of year for changes and resolutions, time is also an asshole.
I didn’t used to be this jaded when it comes to January and resolutions/reflections. My obsession with being perfect used to thrive during the holidays, because the cheeriness of Christmas and New Year’s convinces us all that this time of year is supposed to be perfect. “Magical.” And maybe I feel more jaded now than ever because I used to be—and still am, to some extent—the biggest believer in the magic of Christmas. I don’t ever want to lose that part of myself who loves and thrives on the magic of Christmas and the holidays, but I realize now that I have to lose some of it. We all do, inevitably. It’s just not realistic or healthy.
For a very long time (a.k.a. my entire life), I believed there was no room for mistakes or imperfections in any area of life, so when the holidays would roll around—a time where that feeling you get that the sky will fall if a certain tradition is not upheld to a specific standard—my obsession with everything needing to be perfect was always heightened. And this year, I just couldn’t do it. I was in possibly the worst “funk” I’ve ever been in during the holidays, and I wracked my brain to figure out why. I didn’t have the energy or the time to devote to the demons in my head whispering that things don’t feel perfect, but I also couldn’t bring myself to sit around with family members and pretend that everything felt happy and cheery. Because it didn’t. And it made me so depressed, because even if the rest of the year is a constant raging dumpster fire, Christmas is supposed to feel happy and cheery. It’s the one time of year where things should feel perfect. But they didn’t.
If that sounds ridiculous in any kind of way, that’s because it is. First, because the “holiday season” basically starts on November 1st, and to expect to have two months of no bad days is delusional and weird. Second, because life is, as we are well aware, a total mess. And just because I’ve strung some garland up doesn’t mean I don’t get to have problems or will stop feeling sad or won’t have to endure the idiocy of somebody whose orbit I’m stuck in. The holidays take place in the same realm we all live in, day to day. And I only truly realized this for myself on the evening of Christmas Day when, after choking back tears in family members’ bathrooms all day because I really wasn’t feeling Christmas and all that entails this year, I came home and decided to watch The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show on Amazon Prime Video. I had seen the previews for country singer Kacey Musgraves’ new Christmas special when it came out at the end of November, and hadn’t gotten the chance to watch it. That’s another issue I’ve always had with the holiday season—I can only allow myself to watch Christmas movies or listen to Christmas music in December, because there’s no place for that cheeriness outside the realm of the “holiday season.” But the holiday season doesn’t take place in some alternate sphere where everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong, even though that’s what this commercialized version of “Christmas magic” wants you to believe. Believe me, as someone who tried for years to create his own realm where everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong, I know that those realms do not exist, no matter how hard we try. So maybe that’s part of the reason why the holiday season has become a bit triggering for me.
Anyway. I watched Kacey Musgraves’ Christmas show at the end of what felt like an extremely emotionally exhausting day (because it was), and when she started singing her song “Christmas Makes Me Cry,” I once again burst into tears. I’m sure if I had looked hard enough I would have found others who agree that the cheeriness of the holiday season actually causes depression in many people, but I was just feeling so alone in what I was feeling with the holidays this year and when I heard that song, everything I was feeling felt completely validated. I wasn’t alone. This is a thing, and it’s fine. I even wrote a tweet about it, recommending the special even though Christmas was basically over by that point and saying it’s great for anyone having “a bit of a hard time with the holiday cheer this year like me,” and Kacey liked my tweet. So it’s those moments—where everything feels like a colossal mess and won’t ever get better—where we can recognize that everyone feels this way sometimes, and it’s fine. We’re never alone, no matter how much it feels that way.
The pressure for everything to be happy and perfect always starts to lift once Christmas is over, and then we’re suddenly left with this distorted version of reality where no one knows what day it is, when they’re supposed to go back to work, how many days it’s been since Christmas, and when was the last time they washed their hair. And that’s when New Year’s Eve hits, and the reality that nothing is perfect returns—with the empty promise that maybe it could be in the New Year! New year, new you, new attitude. And while I’m not against using the new year as an excuse to get some of your shit in order, I’m so unbelievably done with the pressure to completely change yourself as a person just because it’s a new year and some capitalist force has convinced you that you’re a pile of garbage who needs changing. Get out of here with that.
January is a time of reflection, and I’m a big fan of reflection. This blog wouldn’t exist if I weren’t a fan of reflection. But always remember that change doesn’t just happen in January. Take the pressure off. Change happens all year round, and for many years to come. We never stop changing and growing, no matter how old we get. And I know life is busy and the new year serves as a great excuse for taking the time to resolve to make some changes, but you don’t have to wait until January every year to resolve to change something. When you feel confident and when you feel ready is when positive change is most likely to happen, and it’s most likely that it won’t be in January. So just go easy on yourself in this new year and start to a new decade. In the immortal words of Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line, “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Baby, just let it be.”
“Struggling against struggle only makes it worse. Berating yourself for when you fall short might make you think you’re getting further, but it’s only scratching your legs. Loosen your grip. Soften your hands. Ask yourself what you need.”
—Camila Cabello
(Recommended listening for this essay: “Christmas Makes Me Cry” by Kacey Musgraves, “Imperfections” by Celine Dion, “Love Me & Let Me Go” by Ashley Tisdale, and “Dancing On My Own” by Robyn)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
It’s January. Which means you’ve survived another year. It’s also 2020, which means you’ve survived another decade. We’ve survived another year, another decade, another day on this incredibly stressful planet known as Earth where being a person can be an absolute nightmare. Let’s celebrate that!
January—at least the first week or so—also means it’s a time for everyone to reflect, and thanks to social media, everyone has felt the need to reflect on their year and their decade and what they hope to accomplish in the decade to come. And that’s great! I sincerely mean it. But I still hate January and I still hate being made to feel inadequate just because we humans once decided that the beginning of January is a new year which gives everyone an excuse to make resolutions they won’t keep and reflections on how great or how shitty their year was. In other words, time is a social construct. Time is real, yes, but when it starts to convince you that January is the best time of year for changes and resolutions, time is also an asshole.
I didn’t used to be this jaded when it comes to January and resolutions/reflections. My obsession with being perfect used to thrive during the holidays, because the cheeriness of Christmas and New Year’s convinces us all that this time of year is supposed to be perfect. “Magical.” And maybe I feel more jaded now than ever because I used to be—and still am, to some extent—the biggest believer in the magic of Christmas. I don’t ever want to lose that part of myself who loves and thrives on the magic of Christmas and the holidays, but I realize now that I have to lose some of it. We all do, inevitably. It’s just not realistic or healthy.
For a very long time (a.k.a. my entire life), I believed there was no room for mistakes or imperfections in any area of life, so when the holidays would roll around—a time where that feeling you get that the sky will fall if a certain tradition is not upheld to a specific standard—my obsession with everything needing to be perfect was always heightened. And this year, I just couldn’t do it. I was in possibly the worst “funk” I’ve ever been in during the holidays, and I wracked my brain to figure out why. I didn’t have the energy or the time to devote to the demons in my head whispering that things don’t feel perfect, but I also couldn’t bring myself to sit around with family members and pretend that everything felt happy and cheery. Because it didn’t. And it made me so depressed, because even if the rest of the year is a constant raging dumpster fire, Christmas is supposed to feel happy and cheery. It’s the one time of year where things should feel perfect. But they didn’t.
If that sounds ridiculous in any kind of way, that’s because it is. First, because the “holiday season” basically starts on November 1st, and to expect to have two months of no bad days is delusional and weird. Second, because life is, as we are well aware, a total mess. And just because I’ve strung some garland up doesn’t mean I don’t get to have problems or will stop feeling sad or won’t have to endure the idiocy of somebody whose orbit I’m stuck in. The holidays take place in the same realm we all live in, day to day. And I only truly realized this for myself on the evening of Christmas Day when, after choking back tears in family members’ bathrooms all day because I really wasn’t feeling Christmas and all that entails this year, I came home and decided to watch The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show on Amazon Prime Video. I had seen the previews for country singer Kacey Musgraves’ new Christmas special when it came out at the end of November, and hadn’t gotten the chance to watch it. That’s another issue I’ve always had with the holiday season—I can only allow myself to watch Christmas movies or listen to Christmas music in December, because there’s no place for that cheeriness outside the realm of the “holiday season.” But the holiday season doesn’t take place in some alternate sphere where everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong, even though that’s what this commercialized version of “Christmas magic” wants you to believe. Believe me, as someone who tried for years to create his own realm where everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong, I know that those realms do not exist, no matter how hard we try. So maybe that’s part of the reason why the holiday season has become a bit triggering for me.
Anyway. I watched Kacey Musgraves’ Christmas show at the end of what felt like an extremely emotionally exhausting day (because it was), and when she started singing her song “Christmas Makes Me Cry,” I once again burst into tears. I’m sure if I had looked hard enough I would have found others who agree that the cheeriness of the holiday season actually causes depression in many people, but I was just feeling so alone in what I was feeling with the holidays this year and when I heard that song, everything I was feeling felt completely validated. I wasn’t alone. This is a thing, and it’s fine. I even wrote a tweet about it, recommending the special even though Christmas was basically over by that point and saying it’s great for anyone having “a bit of a hard time with the holiday cheer this year like me,” and Kacey liked my tweet. So it’s those moments—where everything feels like a colossal mess and won’t ever get better—where we can recognize that everyone feels this way sometimes, and it’s fine. We’re never alone, no matter how much it feels that way.
The pressure for everything to be happy and perfect always starts to lift once Christmas is over, and then we’re suddenly left with this distorted version of reality where no one knows what day it is, when they’re supposed to go back to work, how many days it’s been since Christmas, and when was the last time they washed their hair. And that’s when New Year’s Eve hits, and the reality that nothing is perfect returns—with the empty promise that maybe it could be in the New Year! New year, new you, new attitude. And while I’m not against using the new year as an excuse to get some of your shit in order, I’m so unbelievably done with the pressure to completely change yourself as a person just because it’s a new year and some capitalist force has convinced you that you’re a pile of garbage who needs changing. Get out of here with that.
January is a time of reflection, and I’m a big fan of reflection. This blog wouldn’t exist if I weren’t a fan of reflection. But always remember that change doesn’t just happen in January. Take the pressure off. Change happens all year round, and for many years to come. We never stop changing and growing, no matter how old we get. And I know life is busy and the new year serves as a great excuse for taking the time to resolve to make some changes, but you don’t have to wait until January every year to resolve to change something. When you feel confident and when you feel ready is when positive change is most likely to happen, and it’s most likely that it won’t be in January. So just go easy on yourself in this new year and start to a new decade. In the immortal words of Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line, “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Baby, just let it be.”
“Struggling against struggle only makes it worse. Berating yourself for when you fall short might make you think you’re getting further, but it’s only scratching your legs. Loosen your grip. Soften your hands. Ask yourself what you need.”
—Camila Cabello
(Recommended listening for this essay: “Christmas Makes Me Cry” by Kacey Musgraves, “Imperfections” by Celine Dion, “Love Me & Let Me Go” by Ashley Tisdale, and “Dancing On My Own” by Robyn)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
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