Every year, somewhere around November, the light goes flat. The lake turns grey, the trees are bare, and by the time supper's on the table it's pitch black outside. And every year I feel myself go flat with it.
I've never been diagnosed with seasonal affective disorder. I want to be clear about that. But I live in La Petite-Nation, in rural Québec, and our winters are long. When you already carry depression, and you already struggle to leave the house, five months of short days don't help.
So, the question: how do you cope with seasonal depression? The short version is that seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is a real, recognized form of depression that comes back at the same time each year. The treatments with evidence behind them are light therapy, a version of CBT built for SAD, and in some cases antidepressants. Getting outside in daylight and keeping a routine help too. And because SAD overlaps with bipolar disorder, a doctor should be part of the plan.
What is seasonal depression, exactly?
The US National Institute of Mental Health has one of the clearest pages on it (NIMH, Seasonal Affective Disorder). The key word is recurrent. SAD is a pattern, with symptoms lasting about four to five months of the year. The winter kind usually starts in late fall or early winter and lifts in spring and summer. There's also a summer pattern, but it's less common.
On top of the usual depression symptoms, the winter pattern often brings:
- sleeping too much
- overeating, especially craving carbohydrates
- pulling away from people
Reading that list was a bit uncomfortable. In winter I sleep more, I want bread and pasta, and I go out even less than I normally do, which is already not much. I wrote about the bubble I build around myself. In winter the bubble gets smaller.
It's easy to wave all that off as "everybody hates February." Lots of people get a bit down in winter, and that's not the same thing as depression. The difference is how much it takes over: can you still work, still care about things, still get out of bed most days? If you can't, that's worth a doctor's visit, not a shrug.
Does a light therapy lamp actually work?
For SAD, light therapy is the standard first thing doctors try. NIMH describes it as sitting in front of a very bright light box, 10,000 lux, for about 30 to 45 minutes every day, usually first thing in the morning, from fall to spring.
For depression that isn't seasonal, the evidence is weaker. A Cochrane review called it "modest though promising," and the results weren't statistically solid. So I'd treat the lamp as one tool, not the cure.
Here's what my mornings look like in winter. Coffee, lamp on, sitting close enough that it counts, not staring into it. It's boring. It's also one of the few things I do every single day without arguing with myself.
10,000-lux light therapy lamp
My take. Québec winters are long and dark. Thirty minutes in the morning. Modest evidence, real difference for a lot of people.
Good to know. Talk to a doctor first if you have bipolar disorder: it can trigger hypomania. Check it's UV-filtered.
Two warnings I take seriously. First, if you have bipolar disorder, or think you might, talk to your doctor before you start. Bright light can push some people toward hypomania, and NIMH notes SAD is more common in people with bipolar disorder, especially bipolar II. Second, check that the lamp is UV-filtered and that it really gives 10,000 lux at the distance you'll actually sit. Some cheap ones overstate it.
What else helps with winter depression?
CBT built for SAD. NIMH describes a version called CBT-SAD: group sessions twice a week for six weeks, working on the negative winter thoughts and scheduling things that actually engage you (they call that behavioural activation). In Québec, start with your family doctor or your CLSC to ask about access. Therapy costs are a whole other problem, which I get into in what therapy costs in Québec.
Antidepressants. For some people, yes. NIMH says they can take 4 to 8 weeks to work, which matters if you know November is coming. That's a conversation for your doctor or pharmacist, not for me.
Vitamin D. Everybody has an opinion on this one. NIMH says the research is mixed: some studies found it helped as much as light therapy, others found no effect. Get your levels checked before you start buying bottles.
Getting outside. This one has no clinical trial attached in my notes, so it's just me talking. I make myself go out around midday, when the light is strongest, even when it's minus twenty and I'd rather not. The camera helps. It gives me a reason. I wrote more about nature as a reset.
Routine. Same wake-up time, even on bad days. My sleep falls apart in winter if I let it. More on that in why I can't sleep.
Living with it here
There's a thing about rural Québec winters that people from the city don't always get. Dark is only half of it. The other half is distance. The nearest anything is a drive on icy roads, and when you already fight the urge to stay in, every trip becomes a negotiation. For a guy who leaves before he can be left, winter is the perfect excuse to disappear for months and call it hibernation.
I don't have a neat fix for that. What I do is plan for it in October instead of being ambushed in December. The lamp comes out. I tell Sandra, my partner, it's that time of year. I book things in advance so I can't cancel as easily. Some years that works. Some years February still wins a few rounds.
And then there's that first stretch of real sun on the snow, usually late February or March, and something in me unclenches. It does come back. The light, I mean. So far it always has.
If winter ever takes you as far as thinking about dying, don't wait for spring. In Québec call 1 866 APPELLE (1-866-277-3553) or text 535353. In the rest of Canada and in the US, call or text 988. 811 option 2 (Info-Social) is there too, day and night.