Recently, a college-aged client who has been dealing with homesickness told me he found a part time job at a small hardware store. He worked at one after school and on weekends throughout high school, and the job is a nice reminder of home. The narrow aisles crowded with lightbulbs, extension chords and paint buckets filled with screws are familiar and comforting. When I expressed concern that he might not have enough time to study, he reassured me. “It’s just one evening a week and on Sundays. You know, because Sunday is the hardest day.”
Sunday is the hardest day.
I’ve heard this sentiment many times from clients, regardless of their demographic or issue we were working on in therapy. Whether unemployed or working, single or partnered off, large social network or isolated, everyone is vulnerable to what I refer to as, “Coming down with a case of the Sundays.” Writing this post on the Sunday at the end of Thanksgiving weekend, I can feel it a bit myself. It’s is the feeling of dread that the weekend is almost over, even if there is still a full day left of it to enjoy. It can be the self-judgment that you did not get enough done around the house, in the yard, or on your dissertation. It can be as complicated as loneliness exacerbated by the misconception that everyone else is strolling the streets of your city’s trendiest neighborhood, drinking a latte and holding hands with their new lover, or as simple as the anti-climax of a great weekend drawing to a close. A case of the “Sundays” is when your negative emotions, whatever they may be, pull you out of the present, and prevent you from enjoying the end of the weekend.
For some the “Sundays” are a product of anxiety, and start creeping in just before bed, the “Oh God!” feeling as you are running down the to-do list for Monday morning. For others it is a depressed feeling right when they wake up Sunday morning, that the day will drag on, that there will be no one to share it with. Whether it is a day dedicated to church, rest, brunch, football, or dinner at grandma’s, Sunday is supposed to be different, special. There is a great deal of external pressure to enjoy Sunday, and when we don’t we feel even worse. We judge ourselves, saying things like “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just relax? Why don’t I have anyone to spend the day with? How did I let the weekend slip by?”
If you’re lucky, this feeling only comes up once in awhile, but if it’s every Sunday, it warrants some exploration. Do you have unrealistic expectations of your weekend that you need to let go? Are there Sunday traditions, like watching your daughter’s soccer games, that need to be replaced or reworked because your children are grown up? Were you raised going to church every Sunday and now don’t know how to replace that sense of community you felt every week? What is it about the upcoming week that is bringing up the dread? Can you make it go away? If not, can you make it have less power over you? There are so many areas you can explore to help you learn how to take back Sunday.
I used to refuse all invitations for Sunday evening activities, even if it was something I really wanted to do or with people I really wanted to see. My rationale was, that with my busy and stressful work week, I wanted to “start the week off on the right foot.” My plan for Sunday evening was to pack a healthy lunch, plan my outfit in advance, and get a good night’s sleep. But after a few months of feeling anxious starting around 7:30 PM, tossing and turning the whole night, spending most Monday mornings sleep-deprived, and wearing an outfit I really didn’t feel like putting on that morning, I realized planning the perfect Monday morning had too much power over me, and was giving me a bad case of the “Sundays.” I was wasting too much time planning and was missing out on being. Now whenever possible, I meet friends and play trivia Sunday nights. It’s not a monumental change and it doesn’t make my work week any less busy, but it keeps Monday morning to Monday morning, where it belongs.
Lauren Schiffer, LICSW, MPH 