I don’t know how other people experience this, or if they even do, but the “Sunday Night Blues” are a reality for me almost if not every week. I might enjoy “Sunday Night Blues,” if it was a weekly music event that promoted local artists, or something like that; however, in my own experience, The Sunday Night Blues are far less fun and enjoyable. They are the result of thoughts and emotions that build up because they are not properly dealt with in the moment.
I first experienced The Sunday Night Blues about eleven years ago, but I had no name to assign to it until now. My parents divorced when I was twelve years old, and after that, I grew up in a split home that I wished I could fix. I didn’t understand how this could happen in my home. I tried to make the most of the time I had with each parent, but being stuck in the middle of a two-sided story and switching houses every Monday morning made Sundays very difficult. Every insecurity, every fear, every feeling of inadequacy, would resurface every Sunday night, and when Monday morning came, a surplus of emotions would spill into my week. Some weeks were better than others, but the same issues continued to fester.
Especially when another person was added into the mix, I unhealthily bottled up feelings that I felt unsafe processing in the moment, and I felt like I never did enough, excelled enough, or tried enough, no matter how much I knew my parents loved me. I didn’t realize that this grew into a lack of trust in people. I felt I couldn’t even share everything that was on my mind with my own family, so how could I fully lay my heart out for others? Emotions remained in my head and in my heart because I wanted to not get hurt and to be perfect, since my family wasn’t. This was the beginning of my Sunday Night Blues.
I have been out of college for a year, and I have wondered why I still experience the Sunday Night Blues. I am working in a place that I love, surrounded by some of the most wonderful people I have ever met, and I have very little to worry about. I look forward to returning to work each day, and I now see weekends as breaks, rather than as precious commodities. I have wondered why Sunday nights are still difficult, despite these things.
At Tensility, we work to eliminate power and control, starting in our work community. I have learned that control manifests itself in different ways for different people, and it can rear its head when there exists some form of a threat, whether perceived or real. Remaining others-centered allows us to view the situation from an outside, more objective perspective, rather than an internal, subjective one.
Internalized ways of living and being are not easily uprooted or reversed. Emotions can turn into a certain kind of control over a person, and because I feel emotionally safer than I ever have, I have felt things I left untapped and untouched. I am finding out the hard way that being perfect is not possible, and there’s a difference between knowing this in your heart and knowing it in your head. Perfection might often be masqueraded as success, but for a perfectionist like myself, it is nice to know every once in a while that being imperfect is okay, even necessary.
Being imperfect allows me the freedom to be myself with others. The Sunday Night Blues happen when I forget or don’t have confidence that there are people I can trust. I forget that it’s okay to reach out. I forget that life is a process meant to be shared. When I forget, I withdraw instead of risk being authentic. This destroys connection and is not fair to others.
My challenge to everyone else who has experienced or currently experiences the Sunday Night Blues is to think about your personal reason for why it happens. When I was able to put words to what I felt, I gained a different perspective, and it was very freeing.