By the time February arrives, Christmas feels firmly in the past, but for many families, the strain it placed on already-stretched nervous systems is still very present.

For many families, January can feel like the longest, dreariest month of the year. The sparkle of Christmas has faded. The weather is cold, dark, and relentless. Routines are only just being rebuilt after weeks of disruption, excitement, sensory overload, late nights, and emotional intensity. For parents of neurodivergent children, this transition back into “normal life” can feel especially exhausting. Even when the calendar says the holidays are over, the nervous system ofte

For many families, the moment the Christmas tree comes down marks more than the end of the festive season. It signals a shift in energy, routine, and expectations within the home. The lights are packed away. The decorations return to the loft. School bags are repacked. Alarms are reset. And suddenly, the pace of life changes again. For neurodivergent children, and for the parents supporting them, this transition can feel surprisingly heavy.

As someone who walks with neurodivergent families every day, I feel the weight of what it means to live with ADHD, not just in moments of creativity or hyperfocus, but in the tricky, exhausting, everyday moments when logic and calm dissolve, and overwhelm rushes in. One of those moments? After school: when the world transitions from structured to unstructured, from academic to relational, and everything feels too much.

October carries a quiet invitation. As the leaves fall and the air cools, nature gently reminds us to slow down, to release, and to rest. And this year, as World Mental Health Day approaches on the 10th of October, it offers a powerful reminder that caring for your own emotional wellbeing isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity.