How to Get Rid of Those Sunday Blues

How can your mood go from upbeat to somewhat disinterested to super depressed, all in the span of one morning? And why does that morning always tend to be on a Sunday?

The Sunday Blues is a universal phenomenon. Nobody wants to go back to school or work on Monday, and do the homework or chores that ensure the rest of the week will go smoothly. Most people spend their Sundays procrastinating as much as possible, then scrambling to get their work done before bedtime.

There’s also another, less talked about, element to the Sunday Blues. When Friday becomes Saturday, you’re moving from a structured day to an unstructured one. Unstructured can be fun, at first. The chance to sleep in and have breakfast at 11am, to lounge in your pajamas for half the day, or spend time outdoors in the fresh air. But with unstructured time, there can be trouble, too.

If there’s more than one person living in your house, you’ve likely already experienced the Battle of Expectations. One person may want to stay home, while the other wants to go out. One person wants to socialize, while the other wants to read. If you’re part of a couple or a family that wants to spend time together but can’t agree on what to do, it’s tremendously challenging to meet everyone’s expectations. And if you’re a parent – well – it comes naturally to place your needs behind everybody else’s. By the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you feel a creeping sense of dissatisfaction and realize that your valuable free time is running out.

Often, the negative thoughts and unpleasant feelings you’ve been avoiding all week attack you when you’re at your lowest, like on a Sunday. That’s when you really start to feel miserable. It’s inevitable, though. If you’ve spent a lifetime feeling unworthy of having your needs met, then even as you try to rebuild yourself and your sense of worth, the road to recovery will still be full of stumbling blocks. And when you stumble, you’ll feel like all the progress you thought you were making was just a hoax. It’s the “one step forward, two steps back” conundrum.

At this point, you have two options: wallow in self-pity all day, or allow yourself to feel your feelings and then re-double your determination to keep moving forward. What does it mean to “feel your feelings”? If you feel despondent, don’t hide it. Tell people and give them a chance to help you. If you feel like being alone, say so. Perhaps this miserable feeling is your body’s way of saying you need more time to yourself. You can nap or shower or read or write. You can call a friend or listen to music. What you shouldn’t do is feel guilty about taking time for yourself, as if you’re failing everyone’s expectations. Because what you are actually doing is failing your own needs. And that’s not okay.

In time, you’ll learn to express your needs more frequently. You might adopt healthy strategies like planning out weekend activities and setting clear boundaries ahead of time; letting everyone know that, on Sunday, during the morning or afternoon or whatever day and time suits you, you just want to do your own thing. Or maybe you want to do something that does involve others, like going for a group hike, or to see a play. It’s about doing something you enjoy, something that nourishes your soul.

Feeling the Sunday Blues (or in fact, feeling blue on any day of the week) doesn’t have to be a constant. It can serve as a kick in the ass, and a message from your soul that it needs some love and attention. If you heed that message for long enough, then feeling bad will lead to feeling better. And suddenly, you’ve turned a difficult experience into a more enlightened and uplifting one.

How to Find Peace

Harmony. Connection. Oneness. These words are often used to refer to humanity; how, if only all people could put away their differences and act as one, the world would be such a better place. Indeed, the world would have a greater chance for survival. So, working on the assumption that what’s good for the world must also be good for each human being, on an individual level, then how can we apply harmony, connection, and oneness to ourselves?

We’re each made up of many “selves”. There are the various masks we wear for different people. There are the multiple voices in our head, often in conflict with each other, telling us how to live our lives. There’s our light selves and our shadow selves; our mind, body, and soul; our need to be and our need to please. Whichever way you look at it, we are fragmented people, and often each fragment is working against the other, which leads to stress, anxiety, depression, and countless illnesses.

How can we get all the parts of our Being to exist in harmony and work as one? First of all, we must acknowledge the presence of each part, no matter how shameful or embarrassing. We must acknowledge and accept it, because as of this present moment, this is all we have to work with. So, one person may be kind and caring, but also self-indulgent and quick-tempered. She could try to hide her negative qualities from the world, or she could be open about them, acknowledge them, and learn how to wield her cravings and passion in a more controlled way. Every individual part of our Being has a purpose; we just need to work on figuring out what that is.

Throughout our lives, we play at being different people, taking qualities we have or ones we pick up along the way, and experimenting with them in various combinations, like a person trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. When we’re young, we try to be more like our peers in order to fit in. As we get older, we try differentiate ourselves in order to stand out. Eventually, we reach a stage where, after much effort, we begin to understand who we really are and stop trying to be someone we’re not.

I strongly believe all the puzzle pieces are there, within each and every one of us. But perhaps they’re not fitting together as they should be. The order is all wrong. Understanding ourselves is only half the battle; figuring out how best to be ourselves, how best to connect all the puzzle pieces together in a way that allows us to be at one with ourselves – that is the real work. Learning how to accept our anger but still control our temper and let go of our grudges, how to use all our pent-up energy to our advantage, or how to go easy on ourselves if we don’t have some of the qualities people around us expect us to have. We are fine just the way we are – works-in-progress, trying to solve our own Rubik’s cubes.

Harmony. Connection. Oneness. We must strive for these things within us, and simultaneously, around us. This is the struggle at the core of life. This IS life. We are meant to struggle, yearn, and persist, but we are also meant to be at peace. How we put our puzzle pieces together will have an impact on how well we can keep this balance.

New Chapter

This summer, I moved with my family from one continent to another. And so began a new chapter in my life. I’m overwhelmed by the possibilities, paralyzed, really, by all the different ways in which I can reinvent myself. What will most likely happen, though, is that I will stay put in this exact same persona, doomed to carry on the same cycle of negative thinking. I’m trying so hard for this not to be true. To be a stronger, more emotionally resilient person. Not so dependent on any one person to make me feel loved or special. The love lies within, I keep telling myself. The strength lies within.

But who am I kidding? This is easier said than done. The frequency of moments in which I feel overwhelmed just keeps increasing. The potency of those moments, too, and their ability to just shut me down, completely. I always feel a hair’s length away from falling apart. Why am I like this, I often wonder. God made me this way, so I can’t be all bad, right? God made me sensitive and caring to a fault. There must be some way to be sensitive yet strong. To not lose heart every time I hear the news, or talk to my son about what bothers him, or see my spouse vacillate between moods. I want to find this wellspring of strength within me. I need to find it. Because I don’t think my life can go on this way.

A new chapter means new beginnings and endless possibilities. I hope I find that strength so that I might be the surprise character who emerges from this next chapter, the one who will carry the entire story through to its glorious end.

No One

The thing is, I keep telling people that the world needs more “unmasking”, that we need to stop “posing” and acting like everything’s all right when, in fact, we’re breaking down inside. But do I follow any of my own advice? Nope. Hardly ever.

There’s a comfort in knowing that, even if I’m breaking down today, maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow. And why bother someone with the details of what I’m going through, why ruin the flawless impression they have of me, when I don’t really need to? I’ll bounce back in no time, on my own. Right? Or, maybe I won’t. And I’ll just suffer quietly for as long as this exterior mask will last. The question is, how long can I keep the charade going?

And what if I do tell people how I really feel? They’ll most likely say the most inane things, which, despite being well-intentioned, will just bug the shit out of me. If I am a little too honest about how I feel regarding my mother, my spouse, or my best friend, those are words I’ll never be able to take back, and relationships forever altered. I want to be comfortable being me, but without any of the collateral damage I fear it will incur. Perhaps the biggest fear is that, in being me, I’m really being no one. Because, let’s face it, I am no one. The voices in my head have done such a phenomenal job of convincing me of this. No amount of therapy and medication has been able to undo this belief. I am no one, and all I want is to be a someone, a me who I can be proud to represent.

I’ve always thought I had great faith in God. He will get me through this. Every night or day I cry, I beg Him for some help, some strength, a sign, perhaps, of what my next step should be. “Please steer me in the right direction, so I can climb out of this black hole.” I have lost interest in everything, even the things I used to love – movies, books, family. Writing. The things that used to make me feel a sense of connection with the world. They just don’t make me feel the same way, anymore.

I think I am craving connection. In this world of 7.5 billion people, why is that so hard to find? Do any of you feel the same way, too? Is anyone even out there?

 

 

 

The Wrong Rabbit Hole

I’ve always wanted to make other people happy, to shield them from the kind of depression I have experienced for more than a decade. But is it possible that I’ve been going about it all wrong? I mean, if there’s one thing I’m an expert in, it’s what it feels like to be depressed. I never thought that expertise would mean something to anybody else. Maybe it can, though.

For me, depression is the dark rabbit hole that Alice never fell through. It has no ending, only temporary landing ledges for brief respite from that constant feeling of falling. It’s self-hate, filling up your insides like bile, making you feel like you’re always on the verge of bursting. It’s the feeling of being a tree in the forest who fears it will fall, but no one will ever be around to hear it. And so, if that happens, does the fall even count? Does the tree even really exist?

It’s the world closing in on you till you feel you can’t breathe. It’s always looking for a way to escape your own mind. It’s wishing you were a different person, a happier person, living a different life. It’s the feeling that everyone will sooner or later tire of your negativity and leave you. It’s a haziness in your head, and a desire to give in to that haziness, and sleep all the time. Warm, joyous sleep, where, when you dream, your every next step is unpredictable. You feel more alive when you’re dreaming, than when you’re awake.

It’s feeling like you’re not good enough for this world. Even when there was obviously some Power that specially created you. But it must have been a mistake, or perhaps, this hell is punishment for your behavior in a past life.

Depression is falling into a pit and feeling like there’s no way out. Ever.

What does depression feel like for you?

Most Days

 

Most of my days are mediocre,

going through a cycle of pre-planned routines,

relying on handy little coping mechanisms,

sneaking in predictable bad habits like eating a hidden stash of sweets or sleeping later than I should.

On most days,

there’s child-rearing,

tv-watching,

phone-talking,

errand-walking,

job-searching,

journal-writing,

food-prepping,

mortality-facing:

all the usual suspects.

And throughout it all, a feeling of boredom I have come to depend on

because boredom is better than being in a black hole.

 

On my best days,

I feel like singing.

I’ll imagine my life is a musical with a song and dance for every occasion,

and romance,

oh-so-much romance.

I let go of all my anxieties

and instead of feeling depleted,

I have so much love to give.

Wisdom and warm hugs abound.

On my best days,

I feel like my best self,

and I want so badly for that feeling to last.

I’ll read uplifting stories, listen to inspirational music, watch intelligent videos.

It’s not long, though,

before the monotony of life sets in again,

and the feeling of being free is gone.

 

Most days,

I won’t sing out of fear someone will hear me

and think I’m tuneless.

I won’t write or share my work for fear someone will read it

and find out I’m a fraud.

Most days,

I avoid difficult conversations and distressing confrontations.

I’ll wear the veneer of an optimist who’s got it all together –

a fulfilling family life, a successful professional life, even a peaceful spiritual life –

but in reality, I’ll steep myself in the negative,

the fatalistic,

the frightening.

Most days,

my mind is like an obstinate child who will not listen

as I try to guide it towards positivity and love.

However, the mind has a mind of its own, and,

when left unchecked,

has the power to seduce me into a black hole of my own making.

 

On my worst days,

my mind is like a dominating overlord who takes joy in my torture.

I feel invisible,

isolated,

ignored.

I am weak in the face of all those voices in my head that tell me I’m useless,

that I won’t amount to anything,

when actually, I’ve already amounted to so much,

that I’m lazy,

when actually, I’m scared,

that I’m talentless,

when actually, I’m the only person in the world

who knows how best to be me.

On my worst days,

I feel unloved,

and that is the worst feeling of all,

because if nobody loves me,

then what’s the point of my existence.

On my worst days,

I wish I could just disappear.

I forget that there is someone out there who loves me,

the same being that made me,

that deemed me worthy of creation

and a place among the cosmos.

I forget

that to some people

I am the whole world,

and to others,

I’m important,

though perhaps misunderstood.

I forget that the people around me aren’t all out to get me,

but are flawed themselves,

and just want to be accepted for who they are,

despite their quirks and occasional cruelties.

They have their own black holes to battle.

On my better days,

I realize all this,

and I see the world through the eyes of an observer, not a performer.

I sense the beauty all around me,

in the human capacity for kindness,

and the majestic presence of nature,

the miniscule place our planet occupies in the universe,

and my ability to forgive.

There is beauty in every moment,

if only we could feel it.

 

On my best days,

I don’t fully inhabit my body,

and float, rather than walk.

I feel at one with the universe

and allow my spirit to guide me,

come what may.

“Just try to enjoy the ride,”

I tell myself.

“Coast through calm waters,

navigate around the rocks,

hang on tight during waterfalls,

but be sure to soar through the skies

with eyes wide open.”

 

On my best days,

I feel like singing,

and so,

without giving it a second thought,

I do.

Why so Lovelorn?

Ever feel like shit? A rhetorical question, obviously, because we’ve all felt like shit at some point in our lives. Tired, overworked, under appreciated, not really feeling the love. As if, despite the number of loved ones we may have, there is no one we can honestly share our feelings with. That would mean making ourselves truly vulnerable. And what if the person we choose to share with doesn’t understand us? Or worse, doesn’t really care? Being vulnerable has only ever caused us pain, so better not to say anything, just to stay quiet. Except the problem is, we’re still boiling over with all these negative feelings, feeling drained by life, possibly even depressed. We feel unloved.

“Lovelorn” means feeling bereft of love. And to some extent, I think we all feel this way. We have moments of feeling unloved, whether it be by a parent, a partner, or even the Universe, in general. We feel unloved and perhaps even unworthy of love. We take desperate measures to get attention or try to change ourselves to please others. We do horrible things from the lack of love, and get the sense that being horrible is just who we are because no one ever told us otherwise. One of this world’s greatest superheroes, in my opinion, Fred Rogers, aptly summed it up when he said, ““Love is at the root of everything – all learning, all relationships – love, or the lack of it.” I cannot help but agree.

In a world of hyper awareness, of processing and re-processing the news of just how vicious mankind can be, where we feel increasingly isolated and alone, and like the worth of human life – indeed, even our own – is negligible, it is only natural to feel lovelorn.

I’m sure someone out there feels the same way I do, and it might help to know that you are not alone. The pain is real and, sometimes, torturous. Full disclosure: I suffer from depression. And even though I receive treatment for it, the pain never completely goes away. Maybe it’s not supposed to.

I believe that each of us is a part of something greater than all of us put together. I believe that we are not only loved, but also needed. I believe we each have special gifts we bring to the world, and we need to identify those gifts and share them. I believe all these things, and yet, have trouble remembering them because there’s always that constant nagging feeling within me, that feeling of not being worthy, of wasting my time in this world and not being productive enough. I start to think, if only I felt loved, things would be different. It becomes this vicious cycle then, where I try to chase love, never feel like I’m getting as much as I need, and so, keep searching for it. And instead of using my energy to fulfil my purpose in life, I’m wasting it on this futile quest.

Recently, I heard Sufi teacher, Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, say, in a podcast episode of Oprah’s SuperSoul Conversations (yes, I listen to Oprah!), that this hunger we always feel, this emptiness, this longing for love, is really just a longing for the Beloved. For Sufis, the Beloved is God. I’m a pretty spiritual person, so I think there may be some truth to that.

But the fact remains, regardless of why we feel this longing, we feel it still, and it can be painful. This site is my attempt at sharing that pain. Who knows, maybe my purpose in life IS to share my pain. It doesn’t sound like a very glamorous or divinely inspired job, but, hey, what do I have to lose?