January has always been my least favorite month. It presents the illusion of a clean slate, only to leave you alone with all your mistakes. Everyone wants to act like it’s a fresh start, but for me, it’s a month-long reminder of everything I haven’t fixed and all the ways I’m still the same person I was last year. This January has been nothing but a grim reminder of every bad decision from the past year — and every single one I’m already making again.
This year started with resolutions, as it always does. I told myself I’d spend less time on my phone, read more books and practice discipline with better habits like journaling. I even set up a screen time limit on my phone, thinking it would hold me accountable for the hours I waste on Instagram and TikTok. But by Jan. 2, I was already hitting “Ignore for Today” like it was second nature. Instead of journaling, I spent hours scrolling through my Pinterest feed, adding sad quotes to my numerous boards. It was easier than having to write about my feelings.
All the books on my to be read (TBR) list were ignored for mindlessly watching movies. I’ve powered through so many that my 2025 Letterboxd end-of-year review will be incredible. This doesn’t change the fact that my brain feels static and empty.
The days in January feel infinite, but somehow it feels like the month is slipping away, leaving me with a heavy dread about time wasted. I’ve spent more mornings than I’d like to admit lying in bed, scrolling through social media, and ignoring the pile of school work or job-searching I promised myself I would complete. The worst part is the sense of inevitability, as if every small mistake now is setting me up for yet another lackluster and boring year filled with the same problems.
On top of everything else, current events have done little to inspire any optimism for the future. The effects of the Trump Administration’s immigration policies remain deeply concerning. Ending birthright citizenship, harsh treatment of asylum seekers and the continued crisis in the U.S.-Mexico border are reminders of systemic issues that have only gotten worse with a new year. The trend is likely to continue as President Trump continues to fill his cabinet by nominating individuals like Robert F. Kennedy Jr. who has a history of anti-vaccine advocacy.
All these unresolved problems combined with the new year’s challenges take away any sense of renewal that January could offer. The personal and global problems this year feel intertwined in the worst way. I can’t escape the pressure to be productive or to embrace some illusion of a “new beginning.” And instead of making any progress, I’m stuck in a loop of avoidance. I know my last two quarters at UCR are supposed to be a time for preparation and reflection. My schedule is easier than it’s ever been, yet I can’t bring myself to do anything meaningful with all this time. I’ve spent more hours doom-scrolling and wallowing than actually preparing for the massive changes I’ll face this year.
Rather than a “fresh start,” January feels like a magnifying glass, showing me all the flaws I’ve been avoiding. Every decision and every moment of procrastination feels like a step backward. It’s a month filled with poorly concealed regret and the crushing weight of unmet expectations.
For me, January isn’t the beginning of something new. It’s a confrontation with the worst parts of myself and the world, an endless loop where all I can do is hope that February might break that endless loop. Until then, I’ll probably stay in bed, watching time pass and trying to figure out how to make it through this month without losing my mind.