Daylight savings time is ending and just like that, I’m back in my Sylvia Plath era. Every year when the clocks change in November, I become a Walmart version of Sylvia Plath, complete with blank stares, brooding poetry, and a demeanor that exudes gloom. The end of daylight savings time signifies the descent into my own personal bell jar, which I know will last all the way until March when the clocks go forward again. Let’s talk bell jars, seasonal depression, and how we’re going to make it through this winter.
First, who is Sylvia Plath and what is The Bell Jar?
Sylvia Plath was an American poet who lived from 1932 to 1963, and The Bell Jar is her only novel. Partly autobiographical, The Bell Jar follows a young woman during the 1950s, documenting both her suicide attempt and recovery process. It’s a feminist text that explores themes of self-destruction, depression and alienation, and the experience of being a woman with mental illness. The metaphor of the bell jar is the experience of being trapped in an isolated state, observing but not experiencing, watching the world go by while falling into a depressive episode. Sylvia Plath is a feminist icon and a renowned author: her writing is poignant, brilliant and absolutely worth the read.
The end of daylight savings and the descent of the bell jar
When the clocks turn back in November, they signify the coming of the winter solstice, the darkest months of the year, and the particular brand of Kingston windiness that seeps into your bones and doesn’t go away. It’s easy to imagine the descent of a bell jar: the days are dark, the weather is cold, people spend more time inside, and all the fun and warmth of summer is officially gone. Once I’m nicely established inside of my winter bell jar, not even the fun Starbucks Christmas flavours can do anything to help me get out. I’m sad, lonely even when I’m not alone, cold all the time, and stuck in a state of self-alienation from all things cheery.
Why the bell jar?
Seasonal depression sets in so quickly and with such ruthless abandon that it becomes almost like an aesthetic. It’s hard not to relish in the sadness, to take a sick pleasure in the isolation, and to crank out pages of gloomy poetry. It’s my Sylvia Plath era: there’s a beauty in the darkness and comfort in the familiarity of the bell jar. When you’re so incredibly used to something, even when it’s bad, there’s a soothing quality to its reoccurrence. It’s difficult to not fall victim to this cycle, and not to relish in one’s Sylvia Plath era.
How do we get out?
While it’s important to let yourself have your Sylvia moment, getting stuck in the bell jar is not conducive to health or wellness. Though we should respect our periods of darkness and allow ourselves to be sad, we shouldn’t give up. Here’s what I’m planning on doing this winter to keep the bell jar at bay:
- Walking my dog: Whether you need to go to the gym, join an intramural sports team, or just walk your dog, the practice of forcing yourself to move your body will make you feel better.
- Eating healthy: Mental health is very closely tied to physical health. Get your fruits and vegetables in, and don’t forget about Vitamin D gummies!
- Practicing gratitude: Do I hate winter? Yes. But does that mean that there’s nothing to be happy about? No. There’s something that happens every single day that you can be grateful for—a hug from a housemate, a fuzzy pet, a nice comment in your feedback for your latest assignment. Notice the good things and make a big deal out of them.
Spring will come again
Though seasonal depression is pretty all-consuming and many of us find ourselves stuck in bell jars, spring will come again. The sun will come out, summer will return, and we will find space to be happy again. In the meantime, let’s take the proper steps to ensure that we can survive winter with as much grace and health as possible. If you find yourself in a Sylvia era like mine, remember to have hope and practice gratitude: we can always find beauty somewhere, even in the darkest of times.
