Since the dawn of Dec. 1, all my friends and classmates haven’t stopped talking about the upcoming two weeks off from school. It seems to be the only thing entertaining their thoughts.
And I don’t blame them. For them, the break is a chance to be free from the stress of the seemingly interminable barrage of LEQs and math homework, a chance to breathe when the whole school has been holding its breath for four months.
For them, it’s an opportunity to spend time with friends and family, to give and receive gifts, and to blissfully enjoy life outside of school.
For me, it’s not so joyous.
I know my break will be plagued with late nights, breakfasts at noon, and doom-scrolling. I know I won’t be able to enjoy it like everyone else because I can’t seem to motivate myself to step out of the blankets that keep me chained to my bed.
My dreams and thoughts have instead been occupied with what I’ll do with all the time I’ll suddenly have. As much as I’d like to be optimistic about what two free weeks could hold, the unfortunate truth is that every year, without exception, I find myself spiraling into rock bottom. My days won’t be filled with snowball fights, sleepover parties, or hot chocolate. The morning sun won’t be a sign of a bright, new day but rather of a dim, gray night.
Ever since fifth grade, I have dreaded winter break. It no longer felt like an opportunity but instead an obligation. Out of the blue ice that coated my driveway, I hated everything about “inclement weather” days and so-called “breaks.” I hated how I wasted them and looked back in regret.
When I’m suddenly dumped into a new reality opposite to the one I’ve reluctantly become accustomed to, I simply don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t enjoy waking up at 6:30 a.m. every morning, but at least I can rely on it. Suddenly, my whole day is open, and overwhelmed by all that I can do, I’m left alone in a house that refuses to heat past 70 degrees with no one home.
This will be my life for two weeks.
But only if I let it.
I’m committed to making this the year that I don’t give in to the boredom that pulls me towards my phone. In the last month, I’ve grown to love the cold weather and the thick snowflakes that blow in from the west. This holiday break, I’m going to choose to be happy, to seek out the positive aspects of the cold sun. This time, I hope, I can walk outside with a mug of hot chocolate to take a deep breath of winter air as my eyelashes collect flakes of snow.
