Dealing with Sunday Scaries
Every Sunday, around late afternoon, I get this feeling. Hard to describe exactly. Like a stone settling in my stomach. The weekend slipping away. Monday looming. I used to think I was the only one who felt this way until I mentioned it to a colleague at the coffee machine. She laughed and said “Oh, the Sunday Scaries? Yeah, I get those too.”
Apparently there’s a name for it. Apparently almost everyone experiences it at some point. The dread of the week ahead, hitting you precisely when you’re supposed to be relaxing. Classic brain behaviour, really. Can’t leave well enough alone.
I’ve been trying to figure out why it happens and what to do about it for years now. Read some books, talked to a therapist, experimented with different approaches. None of it is magic. But some things help more than others. Figured I might as well share what I’ve learned in case any of it resonates.
The Ancient Wisdom Angle
When I first got interested in Stoicism – through a podcast, embarrassingly – I was sceptical. Ancient philosophy felt like it would be either too abstract or too preachy. But Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor who kept private journals about managing his anxiety, somehow clicked for me. Two thousand years ago, running an empire, and still lying awake worrying about tomorrow. Made me feel slightly better about my own neuroses.
His central insight was simple: stop living in your head about the future. Monday isn’t here yet. Sunday evening is. That’s the only moment that actually exists right now. Worrying about what might happen means you suffer twice – once in anticipation, once when it actually arrives. Seems obvious when you write it out. Incredibly difficult in practice.
Then there’s Seneca, who suggested looking fear directly in the face rather than running from it. So sometimes when the Sunday dread hits, I grab my phone and list out exactly what I’m anxious about. The email I need to send. The awkward conversation with my manager. The presentation that isn’t quite finished. Written down like that, it all seems more manageable. Less of a looming monster, more of a boring to-do list.
What Actually Seems to Work
Everyone’s different, obviously. These are just things that have helped me over the years. Take what’s useful, ignore the rest.
Sunday evening rituals make a surprising difference. For me it’s making the same dinner every week – nothing complicated, just pasta – because the routine is soothing. Don’t have to make decisions. Muscle memory takes over while my brain does its worrying thing in the background.
Deleting work email from my phone was terrifying and also the best thing I ever did for my Sundays. Turns out absolutely nothing is so urgent it can’t wait until Monday morning. The world keeps spinning. Nobody dies because I didn’t reply to a message about the quarterly report on a Sunday night.
Moving my body helps, even when I really don’t want to. A walk around the block. Twenty minutes of something. The dread shrinks a bit when I’m in motion. Don’t understand the science behind it but the pattern is consistent.
Calling someone also works. My mum usually. She’ll talk for forty minutes about nothing of any importance. By the time she’s done my brain has stopped spiraling because it had something else to focus on. Sometimes boredom is the cure.
When Something Deeper Is Wrong
I need to mention this because it’s important. Sometimes the Sunday Scaries are telling you something real about your life. I had a job a few years back where Sundays weren’t just uncomfortable – they were unbearable. Panic attacks. Couldn’t eat. Crying in the bathroom. Thought I was going mad.
Turned out the job was toxic. My boss was manipulative, my colleagues were miserable, and every Monday felt like walking into a minefield. My body figured it out before my conscious mind caught up. Eventually I quit. Best decision I ever made.
So yes, some level of Sunday anxiety is probably normal. But if yours feels genuinely devastating every single week, that might be information worth paying attention to. Maybe it’s not your brain chemistry. Maybe it’s your situation.
The Self-Compassion Bit
I used to get angry at myself for feeling anxious on Sundays. Why can’t I just relax like a normal person? What’s wrong with me? Which of course only made everything worse. Getting anxious about being anxious. Very productive, brain.
Now I try to just notice it without judgement. Oh, there’s that Sunday feeling again. Hello, old friend. Doesn’t make it vanish but it does seem to take the edge off. Fighting it gives it power. Accepting it sort of deflates it.
Epictetus, another ancient philosopher who started life as a slave, said we cannot control what happens to us – only how we respond to it. I can’t control whether my brain does the Sunday dread thing. I can choose whether I let it ruin the entire evening. Small distinction. Big difference in practice.
Still get the Scaries most weeks. Probably always will. But they don’t own my Sundays anymore. I’ve got my routines and my coping mechanisms and my ancient wisdom from dead Roman philosophers. Monday will come either way. Might as well enjoy the remaining hours of today.
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