I have been stuggling this week. Yes, you read that correctly. I haven't even had enough "R" in me to struggle properly. Thus, I stuggle. Every year I stuggle right around this time as the days begin to get shorter. It would appear that my brain and body truly need sunshine to function properly. When the daily sunshine levels begin to decline, I feel as though a fog has settled over my brain. All operations slow dramatically as my energy levels plummet. I feel sad and overwhelmed. This happens every year.
I've tried slapping myself in the face and shouting, "Snap out of it!" a la Cher in Moonstruck, but that hasn't seemed to do the trick. In the past spending early morning time in front of my old friend, the light therapy box and upping my intake of Omega 3 fish oils has been helpful in combating my seasonal depression. Early in the morning I shockingly do not feel like standing in front of a blinding artificial light source. Every cell in my body seems to be pleading with me, "Just go back to bed! It's so warm and cozy there!"
I am proud to say that I fight those persuasive, pleading cells since, in this case, the voices in my head are not telling me what I really need to hear. I force myself to get out of bed. Alley-oop! I greet my two older children with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, and I make breakfast for them while that blindingly bright light box spills its artificial luminescence all over the kitchen. On Wednesday morning my daughter Sophie turned on music, which at first seemed loud, repellant and highly inappropriate at such an early hour. I immediately turned it off and then thought better of it. I turned it on again and just stood still for a moment while I felt the light and the rhythm of John Denver thanking God for his status as a country boy fill my insides. As the faux glow of my lamp and the musical elements of John's rollicking hymn of gratitude settled within me, I felt the fog lifting, and an energetic warmth returned to my core.
A couple of minutes later, scrambled eggs were on everyone's plates, and we were all singing along with Freddie Mercury, "Oooh, you make me live. Whatever this world can give to me, it's you, you're all I see..." And suddenly it was a great day. I was just about ready to go and see a doctor to ask about anti-depressants and melatonin supplements, when my daughter inadvertently discovered the rejuvenating power of "Music Therapy" when coupled with light therapy.
I don't expect that this will be the end of my winter woes, but for now I plan to carry on with this regimen of self-care. Anyone else out there experience Seasonal Affective Disorder? (It sounds so fancy and important when we call it by its proper name.) I am open to any other tips or helpful advice, so please, comment away!
I've tried slapping myself in the face and shouting, "Snap out of it!" a la Cher in Moonstruck, but that hasn't seemed to do the trick. In the past spending early morning time in front of my old friend, the light therapy box and upping my intake of Omega 3 fish oils has been helpful in combating my seasonal depression. Early in the morning I shockingly do not feel like standing in front of a blinding artificial light source. Every cell in my body seems to be pleading with me, "Just go back to bed! It's so warm and cozy there!"
I am proud to say that I fight those persuasive, pleading cells since, in this case, the voices in my head are not telling me what I really need to hear. I force myself to get out of bed. Alley-oop! I greet my two older children with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, and I make breakfast for them while that blindingly bright light box spills its artificial luminescence all over the kitchen. On Wednesday morning my daughter Sophie turned on music, which at first seemed loud, repellant and highly inappropriate at such an early hour. I immediately turned it off and then thought better of it. I turned it on again and just stood still for a moment while I felt the light and the rhythm of John Denver thanking God for his status as a country boy fill my insides. As the faux glow of my lamp and the musical elements of John's rollicking hymn of gratitude settled within me, I felt the fog lifting, and an energetic warmth returned to my core.
A couple of minutes later, scrambled eggs were on everyone's plates, and we were all singing along with Freddie Mercury, "Oooh, you make me live. Whatever this world can give to me, it's you, you're all I see..." And suddenly it was a great day. I was just about ready to go and see a doctor to ask about anti-depressants and melatonin supplements, when my daughter inadvertently discovered the rejuvenating power of "Music Therapy" when coupled with light therapy.
I don't expect that this will be the end of my winter woes, but for now I plan to carry on with this regimen of self-care. Anyone else out there experience Seasonal Affective Disorder? (It sounds so fancy and important when we call it by its proper name.) I am open to any other tips or helpful advice, so please, comment away!
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