Un-posted: Let's Talk About the Big SAD
Friday. 9 am buzz. Five more minutes. Tired. 9:32. How long has this been ringing? I snooze my alarm and turn around. Is the weather bad or is it just another mental cloud? I have nowhere to be. Laying in is self-care, isn’t it? My duvet feels like a big warm cloud hugging me. Nowhere to be sounds nice. 11:17, I get out of bed. My body feels incredibly heavy though. I hop in the shower and stare at the wall. Why are my feet still cold? I dress up in workout clothes because I am working out today. I’ll check my e-mails and then I’ll leave the house. 1:24 pm. How long have I been scrolling down TikTok? My bed keeps me warm. 1:30 pm also seems like an awful time to start my day. I’ll just rest today. It’s okay, I’ve been busy all week. This is not a depressive episode. My phone rings. I can’t remember the last time the sun felt warm on my skin. I am laughing on the phone. This is not a depressive episode.
I’ll ignore that funny feeling for another couple of weeks.
But deep down I know, the big sad is back.
This probably won’t come as a shocker to you but, Instagram only depicts highlights of my life abroad. Between the beautiful Scottish sights, frivolous parties, cosy coffee breaks and mischievous adventures you will find the heavy days. The big ugly cries over the phone, the big dark under-eye circles, the big questions and the big silences that follow. Those are often un-posted.
Despite hinting at some difficulties, I found it incredibly hard to open up about the state of my mental health online. But, the truth is that this academic year has been rough.
This winter I struggled with what I call The Big Sad. SAD stands for Seasonal Affective Disorder and is often known as seasonal depression or winter depression. I was aware of it and had my vitamin D supplements ready with a sturdy plan to keep up with a healthy lifestyle. However, in Scotland the days are short and you face a biting cold from December until March. And I wasn’t quite ready for that. The winter was longer, darker and colder than I had expected. And for most of it, I felt incredibly challenged, insecure and lonely.
In addition to the weather, I have been living outside of campus which made me feel very isolated. And making friends as a Master's student turned out to be a lot harder than in my undergrad.
In the first term, I burned out trying to make everyone feel comfortable as many of my peers were away from their homes for the first time. I quickly realised that many of these friendships were as shallow as the one you’d share with a booty call; texting ‘you up?’ at 2 am when in need of something. My heart sank a little when I realised that no matter how hard you try, some people will only ever see you as an additional LinkedIn connection.
This feeling of being some sort of misfit among my peers opened the door to an incredible amount of self-doubt. It was a feeling that tortured me throughout my entire MSc program. The lingering thought that I didn’t belong weighed me down, and I felt like a fraud most of the time. Simultaneously, I felt incredibly let down by my University. It seemed like I was trapped in some expensive narrative and couldn’t back down due to the short nature of my course. I questioned my degree every day and considered dropping out multiple times.
Ultimately, I felt like I was stuck in an environment in which I couldn’t be my true self or reach my full potential. But the real challenge was keeping up with the appearances because I felt like a brat for complaining. Being able to live abroad, have heating, have disposable income and, be educated at one of the most prestigious European institutions in times of extreme economic recession is an immense privilege. And not only I was not raised to be a quitter, I wasn't raised to underestimate the privileged position I am in either.
So, crippled with anxiety, imposter syndrome and a big old seasonal depression, I bawled my eyes out throughout winter. I flew home as much as I could to cry some more and whine at my mom. Was this healthy? Not really. Did my flatmate and I consume a scary amount of cheap wine from Tesco to get through the funk we were in? Absolutely. Would I recommend these coping mechanisms to anyone? F*ck no. But it is what it is. It wasn't my best performance and my social media reflects a diametrically different reality.
It’s March now. The sun is out a little longer and shining a little more often. I reduced my circle. Quality over quantity I suppose. My experience in Scotland wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for but maybe it was what I needed. It was hard in ways I didn’t expect it to be which made me understand what was worth putting my energy in.
Rainy days allow you to grow your roots deeper into the soil. Without rain, the ground becomes dry and nothing grows anymore. Rainy days are important.
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