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“Winter is Coming” and so is Seasonal Affective Disorder

Alice Wade


Temperatures in the UK were never scorching this summer but that doesn’t make the October chill down feel any less demoralising. For many of us it’s impossible not to notice a dampening in the mood as August closes its doors onto chilly autumnal winds, darkened days and naked tress. But why is it that winter is so depressing?

What is Seasonal Affective Disorder?

Seasonal Affective Disorder or, SAD to her friends, was a term first coined by Norman Rosenthal in the 1980s to describe chronic seasonal depression. It is in its seasonality that makes SAD different from other patterns of depression. The depression usually materialises in winter and resolves in the spring. However, symptoms are reversed in some cases.

Symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder include  (but aren’t limited to) low mood, anxiety, social withdrawal and loss of interest in previously enjoyable activities. More specifically for SAD, symptoms can include acute fatigue and extreme carbohydrate cravings.

Rosenthal emphasises that SAD can make life considerably more stressful for sufferers. Ordinary tasks that seemed perfectly manageable in the summer can quickly become onerous. Even getting out of bed can seem impossible and unbearably stress inducing. This can make symptoms of SAD self-exacerbating. The more vegetative winter makes us, the harder it becomes to do anything. And the harder it becomes to do anything, the more we become racked with guilt and stress. In this circular fashion one might say, how depressing.

SAD and Light

Up to a third of us in the northern hemisphere are likely to experience the sluggish lows of winter blues…

So why exactly does winter signal this gloomy psychological forecast? Well, it’s mostly to do with light. It’s easy to forget that having unlimited finger flick access to light isn’t actually an element of the natural world. Without the invention of the light bulb, winter would be extremely dark. If you lived in Scandinavia, you’d be needing to eat a lot of carrots to survive the colder months. Tromso in Norway gets almost no sunlight from mid-November to mid-January. This rather complicates matters as our bodies are extremely sensitive to light. Shorter days and a decreased consumption of light disturbs our “internal biological clock” which negatively impacts mood.

Because of its connection to light, the likelihood of developing SAD increases the further you get from the equator. Up to a third of those of us in the northern hemisphere are likely to experience the sluggish lows of “winter blues” at the very least. The risk also goes up if you have a family history of SAD or bipolar disorder. And, just for added depressive measure, women are four times more likely to develop Seasonal Affective Disorder than men. It is unclear as to why this is, though some have suggested it has some evolutionary reason relating to energy conservation.

The Solution?

In scouring the internet for resources on how to soothe a wintery brain, I was disappointed to find my search littered with advice advocating a ‘healthy lifestyle’ as the solution. Why is it that regardless of the ailment, body or mind, the blanket remedy for all human qualms is to gobble a salad and pop off for a run? This is disheartening and counterintuitive to say the least. Simplifying a clinical illness as rectifiable through an alleged healthy lifestyle also intercepts the recent growth of healthier conversations on mental health. It is outdated, overused and for me, represents blanket stupidity.

If anyone had dared to tell me and last year’s pandemic depression cave, to keep ‘active’ or eat anything other than stale cheddar, well… Well, actually I would seldom have had the energy to tell them to ‘do one’, but I’d have expressed my disapproval by around Easter.

‘Healthy Lifestyle’ Is Not a Cure-All

“Taking control over the more menial things can establish a sense of authority of one’s state of being…”

Though of course, if taking on board these kinds of habits is beneficial to you then, proceed. What I am hesitant to is advice that proposes such enormous solutions for those who feel capable of very little. I think it is a far less daunting to approach is to start taking control of the smaller things. For me, this might simply be opening the curtains to let in some natural light in the morning (to accompany me as I lie in bed for several hours). Or making sure I sit outside in the sun for at least five minutes a day.

Taking control over the more menial things can help establish a sense of authority over one’s state of being so we are better equipped to take on the bigger things, you know, like going for a run. Even thinking, “on Sunday I will open the curtains but I will allow myself to sit in bed all day” gives a sense of decision and autonomy in action, even the decision to do something unchallenging feels better when you’re the one who’s dictated it.

Intentional Laziness

In taking intention into action, even the ‘unproductive ones’, we can look to the Scandinavians for inspiration. Despite spending a good amount of the year in perpetual darkness, Denmark was ranked the happiest in the world in 2016 and much of this has been attributed to the “Positive winter mindset”. Writer of The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secret of Happiness, Meik Wiking credits this positivity to the practice of Hygge. Hygge is all about “cosiness of the soul” and creating warmth and intimacy with your loved ones. It seems a fairly obvious concept. Getting cosy by candlelight, reading a book, a stew bubbling away in the peripheral. But I think it is the practice of intention that’s important in this.

“You Americans know entertainment but you don’t know pleasure” Eat Pray Love, 2006

In reading about hygge I was reminded of one of my favourite films Eat, Pray, Love, an adaptation of a memoir of the same name by Elizabeth Gilbert, where an Italian tells Julia Roberts, “you Americans know entertainment but you don’t know pleasure”. I think there’s something in this for us Brits too. In this hyper-productive fast-paced world, it’s difficult not to feel absorbed by the apparent motivation and hustle of others around us. For people who suffer with SAD this can exacerbate those feelings of guilt and stress when they feel most unmotivated. In taking control of our pleasure, our relaxation, we take control of what might previously be perceived as a dreary, lacklustre winter. I’m not claiming you can “choose” to be happy, but perhaps making a slow winter a matter of intention, we can lean into the cold and the dark, making it seem a little less woeful.


Featured image courtesy of on Max Bohme in Unsplash. Image license found here. No changes were made to the image.

Graduate from University of Leeds in Philosophy. Currently au pairing in Europe before starting my MA in Journalism next year.

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