Nearly everyone I’ve consulted with this week has expressed a great tiredness.

“How are you? How has your week been?”

“I’m exhausted…”

And, to be quite frank, I can relate. I’m also pretty blood wrecked.

I live in the Southern Hemisphere, and I’m often aware how people crash - whether physically, emotionally, or both - just as Winter releases it’s hold, and the weather warms up. It’s been an annual conundrum to me that just as the scent of lavender is in the air and we’re donning short sleeves, that we all spring a leak.
Suddenly, everyone I meet is Googling ‘jet fuel vitamin IV drips’ and feeling like it’s 3am from dawn to dusk.

But why? It makes no sense that Spring doesn’t usher in a sense of replenishment, and newness.

(I’ve even, year in and year out, noticed a September upsurge in suicidal thoughts and behaviour amongst some of my patients. I’ve wondered about the extent to which biorhythms, environmental and contextual factors play a role. Not, realistically, a significant role, but a role nonetheless).

I’m curious about the sentiments that recur amongst people. And psychotherapists are, by default, exposed to all of the trends and patterns that exist across the experience of their clientèle at various times. If we tune into them.

And these trends can be plotted against the backdrop of what is prominent at that time socio-economically, politically and environmentally. Now obviously, no trend reporting here would be objective and scientific, as there are simply too many moving parts and untested assumptions (coupled with the relatively minuscule research population, limited to one psychologist’s practice!).

There are hints at trends.
These are interesting.
For exploration. For debate. For discussion.
And for introspection and intervention, if necessary.

(For example, my inbox lights up like a Christmas tree on the 2nd January - when everyone sets, as their New Years’ Resolution, to fix their marriage or exit it. Or for this year to be the year where peace is finally made with something troublesome that has lingered. It’s also the time when medical insurance replenishes, and funds become available for such).

I have two inter-related hypotheses for this September Exhaustion Epidemic:

1. I perceive that Winter has often taken it’s toll.

Unwittingly. In the background. Out of awareness, until that toll reaches a critical mass and can no longer exist in the shadows.
Much like the experience of chronic pain, the inconvenience of coldness and darkness increases the threshold of joy and enjoyment, and imposes additional stressors that summer sun doesn’t.

2. The Relief of A Holiday Is Too Far On The Horizon

We’re programmed, in many countries, to start a year symbolically and practically in January, and exit it in December. The first quarter begins with gusto and resolve. The second quarter often sees us well settled into the year, with decent energy reserves and commitment to our various causes. The third quarter ups the ante, with the freeze and the dark.
And then, comes September. Not only are we often a little frayed, frazzled and war-weary.
But the December reprieve is suddenly a Very Long Time Away.

So that’s how I’ve rationalised this strange September Exhaustion Epidemic to myself. Winter has often lingered just a while too long; just a moment beyond our capacity to endure. Coupled with the three or four months that remain between ourselves and festive season down-time.

And so we wear this as FATIGUE. As tiredness. And if it’s really profound, it can take the form of despondency and depression.

(I know that I write for a diverse audience. I am aware that I have North Americans, Canadians, Europeans and Brits on my mailing list. I am aware of my Middle Eastern cohort, and the Asians who read and engage. And I know that there is a sense of Southern Hemisphere, and even South African bias in this article. Even with respect to how a year is structured (with everything, even schooling, kicking off in January and ending in December). This is not a global concept. I am aware).

But everyone, from any hemisphere, can relate to the ebbs and flows of life, and how there is a collective consciousness around what particular days, months and seasons mean. And how they filter down to, and impact upon our individual experience.

It’s sometimes useful to cast our mind to sociological factors, as well as psychological, when trying to make sense of our sentiments and realities. There’s a liberty that comes with an experience that turns out to be common and shared. And also rationalised and explained.

Because I’ll go a step further, and say that this September Epidemic really is short-lived, and does not dominate all the way to December (which may be the fear). The ring of October seems to shift it completely, and suddenly we’re in a frenzy of project completion, and feverishly tying up loose ends in preparation for our December holidays. As well as strategically planning the new year.

So what then do we do, when we realise we’re a statistic, and are afflicted by September Exhaustion?

Honestly: we do nothing!

We acknowledge what it is. And we wait for it to pass. We do the minimum required, to keep abreast of our personal and professional commitments. We exercise self-care, and self-nurture. We realise that there are always elements of life that we can control. And elements that we cannot. And we consciously and deliberately flesh these out, and sort them into manageable bundles! We seek out pockets of replenishment, be they in the form of a great social activity, a Sunday morning lie-in, a hike in nature or escaping into a good book.

And we literally ride the wave of exhaustion, and surf it to the shore of October.

I had a little ramble on my YouTube Channel and FaceBook page, about monitoring personal biorhythms, and learning to work with them, rather than engaging in a futile struggle against them. Have a watch, if you’re intrigued.

The key take home: moods pass, and energies change.