Fighting the Winter Blues: My Journey with Seasonal Affective Disorder

Why Winter Hits Hard for Me, and the Small Acts That Make It Bearable

Every year when the clocks fall back, the air grows colder, and the skies dim to a permanent shade of gray, something shifts in me. Living in the Midwest again has reminded me that Seasonal Affective Disorder—SAD for short—isn’t just a clever acronym. It’s real. It’s heavy. And it’s something I wrestle with every single winter.

Some days, I wake up already tired. It’s not exhaustion from work or lack of sleep—it’s the fog of a mind that’s fighting to stay positive when the sun barely shows up. It feels like dragging my body through invisible molasses. The mornings come late, the evenings too soon. And even the things that usually make me happy—teaching, writing, connecting—take extra effort.

But I’ve learned that while SAD is real, it’s not unbeatable. Over the years, I’ve developed some practices that help me keep the light on inside, even when the world outside feels dark.

---

1. Acknowledge It—Don’t Minimize It

For a long time, I tried to brush it off. I’d tell myself, “Everyone gets tired in winter. It’s just the cold.” But pretending it’s not real doesn’t make it go away. In fact, denial only deepens the struggle. When I finally accepted that what I was feeling wasn’t laziness or weakness—but a biological, emotional, and psychological response to less sunlight—something shifted. I stopped beating myself up for not being “motivated enough” and started focusing on what I could control.

Acceptance isn’t giving up. It’s simply calling a thing by its name—and that’s the first step toward healing.

---

2. Seek the Light—Literally

Sunlight is medicine for the soul—and the brain. When I lived in Florida, I didn’t have to think about it. Sunshine was a daily companion. But here in the Midwest, I have to chase it.

I started using a light therapy lamp in the mornings—a simple, science-backed way to mimic the effects of natural sunlight. Studies show that 20 to 30 minutes a day can significantly improve mood and energy levels for those with SAD. It’s not a miracle cure, but it helps.

I also try to sit near windows during the day, even if it’s cloudy. The act of facing the light matters. There’s something symbolic about it, too—turning toward what’s bright, even when it’s faint.

---

3. Move, Even When You Don’t Want To

Exercise is one of those things we know helps, but when you’re in the middle of winter blues, it’s often the last thing you want to do. The irony is that motion creates emotion. On days when I force myself to walk, lift weights, or even stretch, I always feel a little lighter afterward. Not perfect—but lighter.

I’ve learned to set micro-goals: five minutes of movement, one song’s worth of dancing, a quick lap around the block with the dog. When I start small, it usually leads to more. Momentum is everything.

---

4. Keep a “Joy Practice” Journal

When everything feels gray, your brain starts to believe that everything is gray. That’s the lie SAD tells. So I fight back with evidence.

Every day, I try to write down three small joys—even if they’re ridiculously simple:

• A hot coffee that hit just right.

• A student who smiled when they got the right answer.

• A song from my teenage years that made me nostalgic and happy.

Recording these doesn’t erase the darkness, but it balances it. It reminds me that joy isn’t seasonal—it’s scattered all around, waiting to be noticed.

---

5. Stay Connected (Even When You Want to Isolate)

This one’s hard for me. When winter rolls in, my instinct is to cocoon—to stay inside, binge shows, and avoid people. But isolation amplifies SAD. Connection breaks the cycle.

I’ve learned to schedule regular calls with friends, attend a small gathering, or even text a few folks just to say I’m thinking of them. It’s not about being social for the sake of it—it’s about staying tethered to the world outside my own head.

When I talk about how I’m feeling, I often hear someone say, “Me too.” That simple phrase is powerful medicine.

---

6. Nourish Your Body Like It’s Fighting a Battle—Because It Is

In winter, I crave carbs and comfort food like everyone else. But I’ve noticed how much better I feel when I prioritize protein, leafy greens, and vitamin D-rich foods. I also take a vitamin D supplement—because the lack of sunlight really does deplete it.

Our brain chemistry depends on what we feed it. When I eat better, my mood follows. It’s not about restriction—it’s about fueling the fight.

---

7. Give Yourself Permission to Rest

Sometimes, the best thing I can do is stop trying so hard to “feel better.” I rest. I read. I listen to music that matches my mood. I stop forcing sunshine into a cloudy day and let myself be human. There’s power in gentleness.

Rest isn’t laziness—it’s recovery. And winter, at its core, is nature’s season of rest. The trees aren’t dead; they’re preparing to bloom again. So am I. So are you.

---

8. Professional Help Is Strength, Not Surrender

I’ve talked with professionals about SAD—and I can’t stress this enough: there’s no shame in that. Therapy, medication, or both can help reset the system. If you find yourself sinking deeper than usual, don’t try to outthink it. Reach out. The brain is an organ, and sometimes it needs support—just like a heart or a knee does.

---

My Winter Reality—and My Hope

Here’s the truth: even as someone who writes and speaks about happiness, I don’t wake up happy every day. Especially not in November through March. Some mornings, it takes every ounce of energy to find the light switch, both literally and figuratively.

But I’ve learned that happiness isn’t about always feeling good—it’s about continuing to choose practices that create space for the good to return.

I still take walks under gray skies. I still make my coffee ritual sacred. I still write these reflections, even when I’m not “feeling it,” because writing helps me reconnect with what’s true: that this season, like all seasons, will pass.

---

Phil’s Happiness Practice

If you struggle with the winter blues too, try this:

• Start your morning with light—natural or artificial.

• Move your body for just five minutes.

• Write down three small joys daily.

• Reach out to one person—text, call, or coffee.

• Give yourself grace.

You’re not broken. You’re just human, living through the quiet season of the year—and even now, there’s light to be found.