(Emotionally) Dry January
Seasonal depression and the insane pressure to deprive yourself of nice things at the start of the year
You’re broke from spending too much on your siblings’ personalised pint glasses and grow-your-own-herb kits for Christmas, so you should probably stop buying yourself those little treats (by which I mean random trinkets dishes you find in charity shops that would be PERFECT for your nightstand only to get home and realise you already have five trinket dishes and you actually need a bigger trinket dish for all of your other trinket dishes).
You (by which I mean me) also gained at least three kilos over Christmas from over-eating, over-drinking and over-socialising so you should probably get rid of it all in the gym – “hey girlies, lock in with me this January and be in the best shape of your LIFE” – even though you’ve never actually managed to successfully lose weight, but like, January is different, right? This is the year you look better than you did at 16.
Also, you should probably give up alcohol because it’s FATTENING and BAD FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH even though you actually only drink at social occasions and you find excuses not to go to most of those anyway. Don’t forget also to give up doomscrolling, drinking more than one coffee a day, spending half an hour on the loo because you can’t solve the Wordle, and gossiping about people you don’t like (who else would you gossip about?)
And then, in place of all of these things, you should definitely drink 10 litres of water a day, consume at least 35 grams of fibre before your morning poo, be able to run a 10K by the end of the month, and get up at 5am to manifest your future, do yoga, journal, and plan your day to the minute. Also, you should be reading at least one book for each leg of your commute and replying to all Whatsapp messages within one working day.
So, as a 27-year-old working woman (I have a 9-5 now, what the helly) with raging ADHD, obviously I gave up ALL of the things on the 1st of January 2026, and pledged to be better, healthier, more in control of my life, more successful at work, the best female-girl-boss-nice-to-everyone-good-at-everything I can be.
I’m pleased to say it’s going really well. Not only have I successfully given up unnatural sugar (apart from sticking my finger into the icing of a friend’s birthday cake the other day) and alcohol, but I have also taken to seasoning my pasta with my own tears at least once a week during my inevitable !emotional breakdowns!. I have deprived myself of all things dopamine and delicious, AND as luck would have it, have completely torn my ACL in my left knee and am now walking like I’ve got a carrot up my ass. Fun also because even though I’ve explained 100 times that I’m waiting for knee surgery, if we get awkwardly stuck in the lift together, the men in the office keep asking how my foot/ankle/hip is doing. Also the air is that dry in London that I’m covered in eczema, getting regular nose bleeds and have a prescription cream to put cream up my nostrils. 27 and THE SEXIEST I’VE EVER FELT.
I guess this is a pledge to being kinder to myself in the cold. When she was alive, I would talk to my grandma about Seasonal Affective Disorder. She lived with M.E. (chronic fatigue) for most of her life, and would retreat inside for the winter, knitting jumpers for her grandchildren and sending us chocolate in the post. Her love language was looking after other people, and I often wondered if it was because she was too exhausted to focus on looking after herself.
I’m learning new things about ADHD all the time, but recently a nurse told me that symptoms get much harder to deal with as you grow older, simply because there is more to think about, more looking after yourself to do. Yasmin in Industry has a great monologue where she talks about the summer of 2020 being the best of her life, because all she had to think about was which pyjamas to buy.
As a neurodevelopmental condition that causes both dopamine and serotonin dysfunction in the brain, ADHD HATES winter. With less sunlight and shorter days comes less serotonin production in the brain, which contributes to feelings of sadness, lack of motivation and a difficulty enjoying the things that normally make you happy. It’s a tough time of year for everyone, and certainly for me it doesn’t feel like £5 oat flat whites or overpriced knit jumpers are enough of an answer. This is a very roundabout way of saying that January is already asking a lot of you, so taking things away in the name of self-care only makes looking after yourself feel harder.
So, because it’s easier than self-control, I return to the things that I know make me happy: watching good telly, eating good food, wasting entire afternoons playing The Sims or Planet Coaster or Two Point Hospital (one day I will download Planet Zoo and never emerge from my cave), yapping away to my boyfriend, my friends, my family, and running (well, limping) up to every dog or cat I see to ask its name and pet it as vigorously as possible before its owner drags it away in fear.
I have spent most of January crying or trying not to cry or getting angry at the universe for throwing me curveballs and for the calories in chocolate. I am finding patience very difficult, and am excited to get better, to get warmer, and to maybe convince my boyfriend that we should get an emotional support cat, which would require moving flat, again. But anyway. Next time winter pops round I will most likely forget I ever struggled, will set a load of ridiculous New Years’ resolutions and just be excited to wear slippers again.
