new years resolution

So, it’s January. Again.

So, it’s January. Again.

by Andrew Kravig, LMFT.

 

I often feel like the new year (and all of the hype around it) arrives like an overenthusiastic motivational speaker— there’s the banging of pots and pans, folks shouting about “fresh starts,” and insisting this is the year everything changes. So much noise. Meanwhile, I’m standing over here in my mismatched socks, feeling emotionally exhausted, and wondering if it’s acceptable for me to set my expectations somewhere between “survive” and “remember to drink water.”

I live with chronic depression. And living with depression has a way of muting the fireworks. No matter how big and beautiful those fireworks might be. While the calendar flips with explosions of confetti and enthusiastic countdowns, my brain tends to respond with a kind of cautious squint. Hope feels fragile. Light feels far away. And yet—annoyingly, persistently—January still shows up, asking me what I want from the new year.