It's the end of January and this morning I crashed. Except for a driving compulsion to sit next to windows when I entered dark restaurants, I was never aware of seasonal affect disorder until my daughter was diagnosed with autism. Then, I became acutely aware of my body's bio-chemical need for light. As with major life changes, I experienced reactive depression, not to be confused, in my understanding, with clinical depression, though I've skirted those edges a few brief times.

Barring a serious familial-genetic chemical imbalance, I've found a recipe over the years to keep the blues away. Sometimes, such as now, the recipe needs some tinkering. We've experienced about six snows since the week before end-of-the-year school exams. Since then, more precipitation has brought the tally to eight snow days. As a result, my daughter will be going to school in June.

During the full week snow prevented the school buses running, Grace and I got out and walked daily. But I didn't follow-up in the cold, damp dreariness that followed after that and resulted the week's end…snow. Nor the next bone-cold dreary week that was interrupted mid-week by…snow.

Carolina Wren. Photo by M. Dee Hamilton

Driving toward the horizon, the day before MLK holiday, my heart knew. It felt the hope that the days had gotten longer already. Yesterday, waiting for my daughter's bus and today, seeing it off, I looked out into the damp earth and felt it again. Spring is coming. She might not get her quickly. But my heart felt the hope.

I didn't get my needed sunglass-less sun to retina serotonin-store boost by walking  the last two weeks. And three times I skipped my supplements, which contain natural anti-depressants–needed now more than ever. This morning, I could not get up. Not at 4:55. Not at 5:00. Not at 5:15, 5:30. Finally, at 5:45, I got Grace up and, in my pajamas, saw her off to the bus at 6:30. I went back to bed until 8:30. Sleep has been disrupted the last five nights. An internal investigation concluded with this scenario. It's winter. And I've not been using my trusted self-care recipe diligently enough.

So, it's back to trying to do what I know best. Get out. Exercise. See the sun. And not skipping those preventative nutrients. And, then, to know the hope in my heart will Spring true in time.