When the Glitter Settles: Why January Hits So Hard (and What To Do About It)

Dr. Julie Sorenson

So Kai, you know how December is, right? The lights, the music, everyone running around trying to hit ten holiday events in one weekend. And then January just... sort of creeps in and the house suddenly sounds like—well, like nothing. It's like emotional whiplash. I had this moment, a few years ago, where everything had finally quieted down. I was standing in my kitchen and, for the first time in weeks, I swear, I could actually hear my fridge humming. That’s when it really hit me—wow, silence after all that noise is its own kind of overwhelming.

Kai Mercer

Yeah, it’s wild. Like, you go from max-volume everything to—boom—radio silence. And then your brain’s just sitting there like, “Wait, where’d everybody go?” Which kinda makes sense, though—after all the anticipation, adrenaline, I mean, you get that biochemical drop-off. Starts to feel a little like the ground is falling out, right?

Dr. Julie Sorenson

Exactly. And honestly, that’s totally normal. It’s the way our nervous system works. For weeks, our brains are running on all these “go-go-go” chemicals—dopamine, adrenaline, just the anticipation and busyness of it all. And then everything slows down, real fast. It’s a crash, and sometimes it even mimics symptoms of depression. People get really worried—like, am I broken? —but Watson and Naragon-Gainey have shown it’s just a really normal brain reaction to a huge dip in stimulation.

Kai Mercer

And I mean, we’re always saying, “Don’t confuse a season for your story,” right? The drop is jarring, but it’s not a personal flaw or anything. It’s just how the brain recalibrates after so much activity. I always think of it like—when you’ve been blasting music at a party and suddenly it stops, even the ticking of a clock is deafening. Where was I going with this…? Oh—yeah, you’re not alone if your January feels weird. It’s the transition.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

Right. And I think, especially after the holidays, our calendars are all blank, decorations go back in storage, and we kind of look around wondering: “Is this all there is now? Leftovers and emails?” I want people to know—if you’re feeling that sort of emotional letdown, it’s not just you. It’s the nervous system adjusting. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re human, in a very human season.

Kai Mercer

Well and it’s not just, like, emotional. January’s brutal because all those financial chickens come home to roost. I always dread opening my credit card statement after the holidays—it’s like, uh, no surprises please. Suddenly those “I’ll deal with it later” moments become right now. I’m pretty sure the only subscription I *didn’t* forget about is the one that comes out of my account the first week back.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

So true. I hear this from so many folks—those holiday bills, all the automatic expenses that just seem to pile up out of nowhere. And what’s so important here is remembering you’re not irresponsible, you’re not somehow “bad with money,” you’re just… human, living in a consumer culture that ramps everything up in December. And financial stress—NAMI talks about this in their 2022 report—it’s actually one of the heaviest loads people carry, and it hits mental health really hard. Shame, anxiety, sometimes arguments… it spirals fast.

Kai Mercer

Yeah, and it all gets kind of tangled up with social stuff too, you know? The holidays, you’re surrounded by people, or at the very least, there’s this kind of forced togetherness, and then January is weirdly… echoey? The phone stops ringing, it’s too cold to go out, everyone’s tired—or broke. I remember after the holidays last year, I felt this little pit in my stomach every time I thought about reaching out. But honestly, honestly, I finally said screw it, met up for coffee with a friend, and that hour did more for my head than any app or budget hack. Like, sometimes we forget we’re biologically wired to want connection, right?

Dr. Julie Sorenson

That’s it. Our nervous system actually expects connection; it’s not about being needy or dramatic. Watson & Naragon-Gainey point out—we’re literally built for attachment, so when everything quiets down, loneliness can skyrocket. And for some, the holidays even highlight the stuff they don’t have: maybe there’s grief, distance, conflict, or absence, and January just sort of… gives you space to feel all of that. Again, that’s not weakness, that’s being human.

Kai Mercer

And then you add the weather. Like, okay, can we talk about that one day of sunlight in January? I mean, “blink and you’ll miss it” is not even exaggerating. I always tell people—if all you want to do is eat carbs and binge old sitcoms, your brain’s probably just responding to the darkness. Seasonal Affective Disorder is real. It’s not just grumpiness—it’s actual brain chemistry stuff.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

Yeah, absolutely. That reduced daylight can trigger all sorts of changes—sleep, mood, energy, even appetite. And going back to what you said about the coffee date: sometimes the smallest act of reaching out, just a little bit, can be a total game-changer when things feel heavy and quiet.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

So with all that in mind—it’s like, okay, what actually helps? Harvard Health and Mayo Clinic both talk about gentle daily routine as one of the biggest things for mood. And by “routine,” I do *not* mean, like, cold plunges at 5am or military drill journaling. It’s more “gentle anchors”—just keeping meals around the same time, starting the morning with something grounding, like tea, or even just sitting with your thoughts for a few minutes. My go-to is a little bit of morning reflection, sometimes with a journal, sometimes just looking out the window. That tiny anchor says, ‘You’re safe, you can relax.' Your nervous system loves that predictability.

Kai Mercer

Yeah, I love that. And for me, movement is everything when the brain fog rolls in. Not for like, punishment or chasing a “new year, new you” body or any of that—just to remind myself, “Hey, I still live here.” And most people know I don’t take myself too seriously, so I started a tradition: every January, I host a totally ridiculous board game night. No goal except to laugh, eat snacks, and, I dunno, get out of the “January stuck” mode with friends. Finding those silly joys is underrated medicine, I swear.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

And that’s science-backed, by the way—movement in any form is one of the best mood stabilizers out there. Even a short walk or just dancing in your kitchen does wonders. I also want to say—it’s so normal to need help, especially if those January feelings just aren’t budging. Therapy isn’t weakness. It takes so much strength to say, “Hey, I need some support.” There’s no shame. If hopelessness hangs around, or if you notice your sleep, appetite, or joy fading, please do reach out. Sometimes connection, whether it’s with a therapist, friend, or even a support group, is what really unlocks hope again.

Kai Mercer

Totally agree. And sometimes it’s just about giving yourself something to look forward to—maybe a little creative project, volunteering, or starting a new show. Heck, even putting that silly board game night on the calendar makes the month feel less endless. Little joys, little anchors, that’s the magic. And just being gentle with your own mind—talk to yourself like you’d talk to a friend who’s having a rough time.

Dr. Julie Sorenson

That’s it. January doesn’t have to be about reinventing yourself. What if it’s about rest, reflection, or realignment instead? Whoever’s listening, you’re not broken—you’re human in a tough season, and that’s enough. Take this month as a chance to slow down, reconnect, and let brighter days find you. Kai, thank you for sitting with me in this tender topic, and for always bringing in a little calm and a little levity. Hope folks remember: even in the hardest months, we can find ways through—together.

Kai Mercer

Appreciate you, Dr. Julie. And thanks to everyone tuning in—take it easy on yourself out there, and hey, let us know if you try any of these strategies. We’ll be back soon to unpack more. Until then, be kind—especially to you. Bye, Julie!

Dr. Julie Sorenson

Bye, Kai. Bye everyone—sending you all a gentle January.