The inevitability of The Slump™️
I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to endure its presence once again.
When the air starts to turn brisk as the sun begins its descent, you can practically hear the clattering of attic doors and drawers across the hemisphere as sweaters are pulled out of hibernation for the cold months ahead. If you listen closely in my household, you can also hear the clattering of a bottle of vitamin D and the slight electric hum as my sun lamp flicks on.
As someone who is working to create a career that caters toward my whimsical and spooky nature, it makes sense that I’d be a fall-loving girlie. And let me be clear — autumnal fashion, foods, and entertainment are some of my favorite things each year.
But for me it’s less “Winter is coming,” and more “The slump is coming.”
If I had to define The Slump™️, it’s what happens in my brain and body when the lack of sun and the stark cold slapping my bipolar disorder collides with what feels like a culturally enforced promotion of a particular brand of holiday cheer, topped off with a spoonful of capitalism that's punching the concept of rest in the face. In other words, nature is giving my body and brain all the signals to slow down, recharge, and take care of myself, while society is telling me to be happy and never stop go, go, going.
It’s not about preventing or avoiding the slump — as it’s simply not possible for the body in which I occupy — but preparing to endure its presence. I pull out the sun lamp, check off my self-care needs like dancing to get in exercise, and try to keep moving forward by following through on projects that bring me joy. I can do everything right, though, and the slump will still exist.
I truly do feel like I’m simply surviving from the moment we turn the clocks back to Standard Time until we’re pushing them forward again. The good news? It won't stick around forever. Where fall and winter come with a certain brand of heaviness, spring and summer spark new life and a literal breath of fresh air. It's a time that feels like my body is physically waking up alongside the rest of nature. And after years of doing the hard work, I feel fortunate enough to be able to recognize these patterns and prepare for them, but at the end of the day, it is preparing for something that I know is an incredibly difficult inevitability — and that in itself can be discouraging on tough days.
But just as it comes, it will too go, and even when I can’t feel it, I know there will be brighter days ahead.
