The dark winter months are cold and depressing – so we need to find ways to let the light shine through

Once the clocks change, it feels as if the optimism many of us feel about summer is replaced by the realization that we are in for months of inclement weather. In addition, for months we consider whether it is financially feasible to turn on the central heating at four in the afternoon.

We all know the reality. It gets cold. It’s going to be a struggle to pay the heating bills. We now have about six or seven weeks of boredom before looking forward to Christmas and then we can do what the Irish do best – pretend everything is fine and strive to have a good time.

It’s truly amazing to see how the Irish react to the arrival of winter. People just give up. I was on a radio show the other day and all the off-air talk from the other guests was about how miserable they’re feeling when we hit that time of year. Of course it’s ridiculous. After all, the onset of winter is no big surprise.

But I was probably the grumpiest of us all as I tried to park my feelings of seasonal depression and instead tried to say something funny and be upbeat about things.

I guess I probably failed on both counts. That’s because we Irish aren’t really logical. I know we’re trying to be, and most of us are all rational people who have realized that the seasons change, and it obviously happens every year.

In fact, we often feel like we’re on an island in the wrong ocean. A Mediterranean or Pacific location would suit our temperament much better than being stuck on a windswept rock on the eastern edge of the Atlantic, where we seem to experience weather that manages to be dull and miserable at the same time.

In fact, I think the Irish may have invented Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), such is our widespread revulsion for the dark, depressing nights ahead. My mother, for example, always went to bed between now and Christmas.

The heater could never be warm enough. The occasional afternoon sunshine, pale in quality, could never be bright enough. So she just went “sod this” and stayed in bed.

Ultimately, this is when we should all decide to call it a day and just hibernate for the next few months like my mom used to do. But our response to seasonal change is just that—a voluntary response. For years I picked up and emulated my mother’s despondency.

I withdrew into myself and spent days in bed. My birthday is in November, but I would rarely celebrate the occasion because I was just too depressed to enjoy it. In fact, there were a few times I’d even forgotten it was my birthday by the time I got a birthday card (you can send as many cards as you like, by the way).

Then one year, I just decided to embrace the change and try to enjoy it. Can one really look at the bright side of life when there is no brightness? Well, let’s be honest, this year more than ever we have no other choice.

When the choice is to stay in bed rocking in misery, repeating the mantra “Everything is doomed and we’re screwed,” or just trying to do our best and to make the best of a bad situation, i will choose the latter option.

It’s about looking for the good, little things in life that will get us through the next few months. For me, a lot of it has to do with my diet.

Too bad the grill is covered until next spring. But then again, who doesn’t love a good, healthy and tasty winter cake? I’ve taken my casserole dishes out of the press and been busy making stews and duck cassoulet that can make even the most depressed face smile.

In fact, I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time scouring the internet for the best winter recipes, then tried and usually failed to replicate them. But what else do we do when it storms and the rain bounces off the ground?

Then of course there is the traditional Irish Pub. Is there anything nicer than sitting by the open fire with your friends at your local pub while the outside is burning? It brings with it a sense of comfort that often goes unrecognized but remains an indelible part of the Irish psyche.

I’ve even rooted out the flashy LED collars for my dogs that turn on and off when we’re out for a walk in the dark.

Oddly enough, one of my mutts, Belle, freaked her out when she saw them because she knew it meant we were past summer. She hates the rain and refuses to get wet, so she knows what to expect in the coming months. In fact, she’s the only dog ​​I’ve ever met that’s likely to be diagnosed with SAD.

We all know what’s in store for us over the next few months, and it’s not going away. So we might as well do our best.

If only we could all hibernate…