Low energy in winter — when the light goes before we've got going.

It's already ten to four and we've just switched the big light on. The day hasn't really started, or that's how it feels, and it's packing up and heading home. We had a list and we’ve managed to do the first thing on it, well, sort of. The rest is looking at us from the kitchen table with thinly disguised disappointment.

By six it feels like ten. By eight we're debating if it's too early to go to bed, and the answer, honestly, is that it probably isn't.

If winter tends to drain you too before you've even got going, you're in very good company. It happens to us all at some point. And it isn't in our heads.

Why winter takes more out of us

Light does a lot of quiet and essential work for us. It helps set our body clock that tells us when to wake, when to feel alert and when to wind down. When there's less of it, our clock can get a bit vague. Mornings feel like the middle of the night, and the afternoon slump arrives early and stays for tea.

Then there's the cold. Keeping warm takes effort, even when we're not aware of it. So does the getting-ready that winter adds to everything: coats, scarves, boots, clearing paths, scraping the car, finding the remaining wayward glove.

During winter, we spend more time indoors, often in the same room, under the same lights. So it's no wonder days can blur.

And winter tends to bring a steady parade of coughs and colds, each one leaving us a little more tired than before.

None of this is dramatic. It's a lot of small things, all pulling in the same direction, for several months at a time. It makes sense that we feel it.

Low energy in winter isn't laziness

Somewhere along the way, a lot of us also picked up the idea that we should run at the same speed all year. Expecting the same output in winter as in summer and the same sociable, capable version of ourselves whether it's light at nine at night or dark by half three.

But, and here's the thing, almost nothing else in the natural world works like that. Trees drop their leaves. Grass stops growing. Some birds leave altogether. Hedgehogs take the whole season off, and nobody calls them unmotivated or failing.

Winter has always been a time for pulling in and conserving what we’ve got. So if you're feeling slower right now, you're not falling behind. You're responding perfectly to the season you're actually in.

One gentle note though: if the low feeling is heavy, lasts for weeks, or is getting in the way of everyday life, it's worth a chat with your doctor. Sometimes winter tiredness is more than a slump, and there's real support available for that.

Things that still count on a dark, low-energy day

On the days when the light, and your get-up-and-go, has got up and gone, here are a few things that still count:

- Getting dressed, even if it's into a different set of comfy clothes

- Opening the curtains, however briefly the daylight hangs about

- A warm drink you ensure you get to finish while it’s still warm

- Heating up something simple and calling it dinner

- Five minutes outside, or even just at an open door

- Answering one message and leaving the rest for another day

- Going to bed early without needing a reason

These aren't a ‘to-do’ list. They're just gentle reminders that small and quiet still counts as living a good day.

Some suggestions for gentler ways through the darker months

Catch the light when it's there.

If you can, step outside around midday, when daylight tends to be at its best. A short walk can be lovely, but standing at the back door with a cuppa also counts.

Lower the bar on purpose.

Decide ahead of time what a 'good enough' winter day looks like for you. It can be smaller than you think. That way an ordinary day doesn't end up feeling like a failed one.

Make evenings ask less.

Long dark evenings can feel like a lot of time you're supposed to fill, but they don't need filling. Soft lamps, a familiar programme, a blanket, an early night all make a perfectly good evening. Maybe even add in an indulgent hot chocolate because, well, why not?

Keep warm, kindly.

Warm socks, a hot water bottle, soup, a cosy blanket, thermals (yes, thermals!), even gloves. Not as a ‘tick list’ to get right, but because being cold all the time is tiring and draining in itself.

Go easy on the looming festive build-up.

Somewhere around November, winter tends to pick up a second (and highly demanding) job — the run-up to Christmas, with all its complex plans and sometimes unrealistic expectations. You are allowed to pace yourself. Remember presence is way more important than presents.

We're allowed to be the winter version of yourself

Don't worry, the light will return. It always does, a minute or two at a time, long before we begin to notice. Until then, we don't have to keep up with 'that' ideal version of ourselves.

We're allowed to be slower, quieter, and to be in bed by nine. That's fine.

Slow is still moving. Quiet is still living.

If you'd like a soft companion for the darker months, The Tender Wobble Guide to Winter is full of gentle permission, small comforts and kinder ways through the season.

A gentle note: The Tender Wobble Guide offers encouragement and reflection only.

Nothing here is intended as medical, psychological, or professional advice, and it is not a substitute for professional support.

If you are struggling, please reach out to a qualified professional or helpline. You don't have to wobble alone.