Over the Christmas holidays, my four year old brought home a wonderfully endearing, imperfect, asymmetrical, knobbly-looking stuffed bear that was given to her by her ingenious preschool teacher, Mrs. Carbary. Lili's assignment was to name the bear, (no problem. Sugarbear, of course) and to write in the bear's journal about his winter adventures. One day as we sat at the kitchen table and I took dictation, this is what Lili had to say about Sugarbear's state of mind:
I wondered if Sugarbear and I were kindred spirits because there are many winter days when I am hungry and every fiber of my being tells me I should eat chocolate and mashed potatoes and follow this action with a long nap. I too am "made for summer...days" and tend to feel shivery, lethargic, and unimaginative during the cold, dark winter months.
This year the cold months in Michigan have been exceptionally sharp and stinging, yet somehow I am doing okay. After many difficult winters battling seasonal depression (also known as SAD), I think I may be on to something: radical self care.
A friend introduced me to the term "radical self care" last winter. I nodded approvingly at the idea but didn't put much stock in it. Radical self care sounded like something for which a busy, low maintenance girl like me would have no time. I pictured weekly pedicures and spa treatments, indulgent dinners in fancy restaurants, and hours of uninterrupted, silent meditation. To be clear all of those things sound great, but they do not add up to radical self care. I couldn't truly imagine achieving a zen-like state of radical self-care without completely neglecting my children. I had it all wrong.
Radical self-care doesn't actually mean making oneself as comfortable as possible or indulging every fantasy. For me it means:
- Dragging myself out of bed every morning. resisting the urge to hibernate under the blankets where it's warm on days when the outside temperatures are double digits below zero. (Honestly does anybody have time for -18 F?)
- Taking my vitamins and supplements every day. (Particularly life changing supplements for me are: Vitamin D, B Complex, and high doses of Omega 3 fish oil.)
- Resisting the urge to ingest only simple carbohydrates. Potato chips, why must you be so delicious? I feel best when I prepare and eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables and limit refined sugars. Yes to carrots! Up with people!
- Exercising even when I don't want to. I always feel better after a group exercise class like Zumba or Pilates. A walk outdoors also does wonders, but only when the temperatures are above 20 F.
- Getting light. Natural sunlight is ideal, but there are days when I rely on my full spectrum light box. Spending time outdoors, when possible, makes a world of difference. I like to tromp down a snowy track, hug a slumbering deciduous tree, or throw a snowball at a snarky neighbor whenever possible. A long weekend in sunny Florida this past month also lifted my spirits and helped to recharge my dying winter battery.
- Being part of a community. This is, perhaps, the most counter-intuitive, item on my list. As an introvert teetering on the verge of depression, my natural m.o. is to dig into my burrow and watch Murder She Wrote in my sweat pants, but regularly scheduled meetings/outings with close friends, singing in church, and interacting with other parents at my kids' schools (instead of burying my nose in a book) is an important part of caring for myself.
- Sleeping. Getting the right about of sleep is obviously crucial. Too much leaves me feeling demotivated and useless. Too little sleep causes me to feel stressed out, run down, and grouchier than that dirty green guy on Sesame Street. Generally I try for 7-8 hours per night and my rule is: no going back to bed after getting up in the morning. I have stuck to my rule approximately 98% of the time this winter, and I'm good with that.
Of course none of this means I am enjoying the frigid temperatures, the blustery winds, or the claustrophobia-inducing, mile-high snow drifts, but I am coping well and doing my best to acknowledge and savor moments of joy when they arise.
