I've had a great summer. It's been full of fun, laughter, adventure, relaxing days, time with people I love, and plenty of moments where I've simply thought, this is what life is about. There have been holidays, days out, evenings walking the dog, sitting outside, enjoying the sunshine and making the most of those long summer days. There's something about summer that seems to make life feel a little easier.

Even the ordinary things feel different.

A walk at 9pm while it's still light. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my face. Sitting outside in the evening without needing another layer. Having the energy to get out and do things rather than constantly thinking about the weather, the cold, damp, or how quickly the daylight is disappearing.

Of course, summer hasn't been without its challenges.

Living with a long-term health condition means I can't always just do whatever I want, whenever I want. There have been times when I've probably pushed myself too far because I was enjoying myself and didn't want my health to get in the way. Managing exertion, knowing when to stop and trying to find the balance between enjoying life and looking after my health isn't always easy.

But on balance, it's been fantastic.

And perhaps that's why I'm finding the change of season particularly difficult. Because now I can feel it coming. Autumn … And eventually, winter.

The evenings are getting shorter. The temperature is dropping. The light is changing. The rain is coming. That lovely feeling of summer slowly slipping away. And if I'm honest, I don't like it.

There is something about the transition from summer into winter that affects me more than I would like to admit. I experience what I think of as seasonal affective symptoms, and for me, they feel very real. It's a change in my mood, my energy and my motivation. I can feel myself becoming more reluctant to get out and do things. I miss the light. I miss being outside. I miss the sense of possibility that comes with a long summer evening.

I've noticed this in my therapy work too. It's interesting because I'm already hearing clients talking about it in sessions. People are noticing the darker evenings, the change in weather and the impact it's having on their mood. For some, there's a genuine sense of dread about the months ahead.

And I think it's important to say that this is okay. We don't always have to love every season. For some people, the transition from summer to autumn and winter is genuinely difficult. If you experience changes in your mood, energy, sleep or motivation as the seasons change, you're not imagining it. From personal experience, I know seasonal changes can have a very real impact on our mental and emotional wellbeing.

I also think there's something particularly difficult about going from feeling good to knowing that you're likely to feel less good. When you've had a summer where you've felt energetic, happy and free, the thought of that changing can be difficult to sit with.

There's almost a little bit of holiday blues involved. The holiday ends. Normality returns. The weather changes. The nights draw in. And suddenly you find yourself looking back at photos from a few weeks ago and thinking, where did that go? Perhaps that's part of what I'm experiencing now.

I'm not just responding to winter arriving. I’m grieving summer leaving. And maybe that's okay too. Perhaps I don't need to fight it, and I can simply acknowledge that this time of year is difficult for me. It means recognising what I need and being a little more intentional about looking after myself as the seasons change.

Getting outside when I can.

Making the most of the daylight.

Keeping connected with people.

Planning things to look forward to.

Being mindful of my mood rather than ignoring it.

And, perhaps most importantly, not beating myself up if I don't feel quite as energetic or positive as I did during the summer.

I've written before about investing in yourself, and perhaps this is another example of that. Knowing yourself. Recognising what affects you. And making small changes to support yourself rather than criticising yourself for finding something difficult.

So, winter is coming. I'm not going to pretend I'm excited about it. I'm going to miss those long summer evenings. I'm going to miss the warmth and the dry days. I'm going to miss the freedom of getting out with the dog to the field without thinking about whether we'll be home before dark.

But maybe I can learn to make room for winter rather than simply wishing it away. There will still be good days. There will still be laughter, adventures, walks, friends, family and things to look forward to. And eventually, the evenings will get lighter again.

Until then, I'm going to try to be kind to myself. Because sometimes looking after our mental health isn't about making ourselves feel better. Sometimes it's simply about accepting how we feel, understanding why, and giving ourselves permission to find it difficult.

Winter is coming. I'll do my best to meet it where I am.