In:
Skipping class to go to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania
Keeping two cups of peanut butter in the fridge for baking
Feeling smart because you have lots of books on your desk
Foco mozz sticks
Leather boots that click-clack on the pavement
Waiting patiently
Out:
The Co-op not having strawberries
Wintry mix
The price of Core Powers at Collis ($5.75!)
Getting to class on time
Last night’s glitter on your clothes
Slipping on the ice in Mass Lot
At least once a week this term, I have tried to give myself a night set aside for rest. Shutting my door to the blustering breezes outside, I curl up on my bed with a fuzzy blanket and one of those Korean face masks that make me look silly. Armed with a bag of my favorite sea salt popcorn and my latest binge watch, I set out on a voyage of inner peace and relaxation.
The phrase “protecting my peace” has practically become my mantra over the past few months. It was almost a necessity, a gut instinct for survival, after the emotional maelstrom of last fall. Returning home for six weeks gave me some perspective on the happenings of last term — I often marvel at the fact that while I remain relatively content at home, returning to Dartmouth induces some insane volatility that leaves me ricocheting wildly between euphoria and despair.
The bottom line was that I knew something needed to change. If I was going to get through the winter — a time I knew would be particularly cold and miserable — I would have to insulate myself, to stabilize the rocking boat and prevent it from dumping me headfirst into the battering waves of the term.
So I entered this winter committed to my personal well-being and attached to the time-worn adage of “working on myself.” Arriving on the third of January, I immediately set out to accrue some constructive habits — beginning with an unhinged trip to the gym mere hours after I hauled my bags off the coach.
Despite some misguided attempts, I dare say I have had some success. I’ve built up a skincare regimen as a way to unwind after a stressful day, I’ve commandeered my friend’s sorority kitchen to whip up some of my favorite foods from home and I’ve normalized the notion of picking a night when I feel my lowest to blow off my obligations and stay holed up in my dorm like a hobbit.
I’ve found that while I will always have a blast at beach parties or après-ski on Webster Avenue, taking some time to just rest has its merits. After all, some of my best memories of last winter were those moments when even as the snow piled up outside, I was snuggled up indoors enjoying the coziness of it all. I’ll never forget those sacred Sunday nights when all my friends gathered in my room to project the latest episode of “Euphoria,” or the late nights we pulled in Sanborn alternating between finishing endless readings and falling asleep on the couch.
Lately, I’ve often found myself wondering if this self-care journey was just a New Year’s resolution kick. Come the end of the term, would all of my new healthful habits have gone the way of the front entrance to the Hop? In some ways, I have staggered — maintaining all of these things gets difficult when the term gets busy. I’ve fallen off of the job recruiting train, I don’t finish a lot of my readings and my fitness era is waning with papers and finals on the horizon.
But part of this new phase of prioritizing my serenity is that it is acceptable to let some of my obligations go by the wayside. Frankly, if I set out to be the model student, rounded out completely with clubs, sports and a job offer already in their inbox, my mental health would be in the gutter. This term has helped me accept that all of my life’s elements have to be in balance — and my mental health is not one that can be simply discarded.
Like any other, this term hasn’t been without its challenges. I am still often riddled with anxiety. I miss my family members, and my heart aches that I am closer than ever with my sister but I have to watch her go through high school from afar. I worry about my dogs getting older every day when I cannot hold them. My anxiety still sometimes turns inward and I worry that I am not enough. But I am getting better and better at silencing these dreads.
Somehow, I now feel better prepared and ready to take on the problems that Dartmouth continues to throw my way. It’s no secret that Dartmouth’s terms are turbulent, and facing the endless barrage can be difficult. I am slowly learning that my best solution is to situate myself at the eye of the storm — even amid all the chaos, I just need to center myself and set aside some time for peace. I suppose it helps that this winter has been incredibly mild, staving off some of my seasonal depression, but I am also proud of the effort I have made to protect myself.
My freshman year, anticipating my upcoming seasonal depression, I had solicited some advice from friends that were used to living in cold climates. “Get outside,” they said. More than one recommended skiing or ice skating as a way to stave off the gloomy grays. And these activities were fun last year, a great way to bust the monotony of trudging to class through winter slush.
This winter, though, I think my solution of choice is to turn inwards — I can save all the outdoors time for when I return home to Florida for spring break. For now, I’ll stick to comfortable nights indoors, with my heart content and two cucumber gel patches plastered under my eyes.
