They say the third Monday of January is the most depressed day of the year. There’s a deal of controversy around it, so I won’t dwell on it too long, but basically the short of it is that with historical weather patterns, post holiday grief, and failing New Year’s resolutions, we are supposed to be most susceptible to ‘blueness’ on this day (hence why it’s called Blue Monday).

If you’ll notice the date this is posted, it is indeed not the third Monday of January. Nor is it the fourth…actually, it’s the fourth Friday. 

I figure if there’s any turning point in the blueness that allegedly surrounds mid January, it’s today. Or at least that’s how I’m going to go about things. 

For whatever reason, I usually feel quite blue myself around this time of year. I don’t think it’s seasonal depression, but rather the happenstance of high tide in a rolling current. Still, a slump is a slump. 

I know seasonal depression is becoming more recognized, and earnestly too, rather than as a token piece. That’s pivotal, because people need to know they’re not simply defective. That’s what depression can feel like; people wonder why you’re not eating and it’s simply because you’re never hungry; people ask why you’re always tired and you don’t know, for you were asleep in bed just as long as they. 

Most people probably know how these things feel, because they crop up now and then, and sometimes they decide to stay longer. It seems like the symptoms act on their own accord. This can make assertions like “you need to decide to make a change” feel like a splash of cold water to the face. 

Sometimes, though, it does come down to deciding to make a change. Because what else could you possibly do? There’s very little we can control, with our biological circumstances and in general, and that makes the choices we do have all the more important. 

We may not be able to choose how we feel when we wake up, but we can choose to do certain things: open the blinds, make the bed, whatever else required for general upkeep. That way, when the ground does level, the rest of your life is intact and waiting. 

There’s something in psychology that’s called resilience, and it means overcoming. Saying to someone in a depressive slump, to me, that means fighting instinct. The way I’ve felt depression is in my gut, in my hypervigilant instinct. It inclines one to double check everything: the door, the wellbeing of their pets, social media, grades. 

Whatever your habits, or compulsions, or misgivings, it’s essential to balance those out with whatever you can, and hopefully that makes this fourth Friday a turning point.