That Time of Year Again
Trigger Warning: This article discusses topics related to seasonal depression.
The leaves are falling, the climate (maybe) is changing, and seasonal allergies are hitting a lot harder than last year. All of this to say that the time has gone back—days are shorter, nights are longer, and no one can help but groan when they take a look at their watch, only to find out it’s 4:30 p.m., and the sun outside is almost gone.
By 5 p.m., we’re left in darkness, and the “late night feels” are starting a lot earlier than usual. Summer nights out with friends are gone, leaving an emptiness in our chests as we wrap ourselves in warm blankets and wonder why we’re even here. Or is that just me?
Seasonal depression has taken the reins again. Every year, I think I leave it behind once spring arrives, but every October or November, it crawls right back and settles into my aching chest. It piles on top of the usual, year-round depression, and I can’t help but wonder why it feels worse each time. I thought I had it bad as a teenager—how did it suddenly get so much worse?
Photo by Regina Seanez
Realistically, how long does this even last for? It feels like the older you get, the more people you lose, adding more reasons to dread the holidays. Or maybe it’s that as people grow up, they find their “the one” and spend the holidays with them, while you’re left celebrating Christmas and New Year’s with your little cousins at the kids’ table because listening to the adults seems a lot more boring than it did when you were younger.
Maybe I’m projecting.
Still, it doesn’t take away from the fact that seasonal depression is real, and it’s here. At this point, I’ve welcomed it with open arms because rejecting it only seems to make it worse. Honestly, it’s like a leech.
It just absolutely sucks. I think most people can agree—we don’t want to feel like this. We don’t want to stay in bed all day with the lights off. We don’t want to cry alone (especially not after this year’s elections). We don’t want to depend on others to keep us distracted from what’s really going on. But we still do it anyway.
Henri Matisse’s Interior (La Fenêtre Fermée) / Photo by Regina Seanez
Sometimes, I feel like seasonal depression has become more of a companion to me than most people, despite the bad rep it gets every winter season. As it creeps in during the late hours of the cold nights, it’s still something that is with me. As empty as my chest may feel, the coaxing of seasonal depression is just so tender and sweet, it’s hard not to sink into it.
Again, is that just me?
Either way, seasonal depression is not uncommon. A totally sane person could experience it—it doesn’t pick and choose who it affects. And these time changes aren’t helping either. As someone who loves the sun, seeing it for less than 12 hours a day has been destroying my serotonin levels. Why is it dark at 4:30 p.m. on the East Coast? I never realized how good I had it in Texas during the winter; the sun would set by at least 5:30 p.m., and even then, I felt like I was losing daytime hours.
When I was younger, I loved having that extra hour to sleep in. Staying warm in my bed was all I wanted to do rather than go to school. Now, as an adult, I want to be up and doing things, but it’s become impossible. I need the sun!
Photo by Regina Seanez
I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do when seasonal depression hits, because honestly, I don’t know what to do. I’m still navigating my emotions and schedule to figure out how to handle it this year, now that I don’t have classes or finals to distract me. Wherever you’re at with seasonal depression, just know that you might not be alone in it.
May this holiday season bring peace to your uncertainty. Keep reading, stay hydrated, and take the chance to learn and research about issues that matter the most right now. And if it ever feels like too much, here’s a playlist I created a couple of years ago—perfect for those moments when all you need is a quiet space, a warm blanket, and a good cry.
