I am not built for this.
It’s my tenth year in New England and I still dread the cold. As soon as the October foliage descends upon New Haven, I take out my biggest puffer coat and prepare for wind chills to cut to my bones. Then Daylight Savings hits. The clouds become stony and trees are robbed of their color; temperatures become sub-freezing in the mornings and 4:00 p.m. classes dismiss with the sun halfway set. I have no choice but to accept the sudden, unwelcome darkness with cups of caffeine and a touch of sadness.
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a type of depression that occurs during the fall or winter, marked by symptoms including increased fatigue, low moods, hopelessness, and social withdrawal. The Winter Depression Research Clinic, an initiative created by the Yale School of Medicine’s Depression Research Program, estimates that 5% of adults living at the New York latitude have been diagnosed with SAD. Results from the clinic’s questionnaires suggest that 90% of its research participants observe changes in energy, mood, or sleep when winter arrives. However, these individuals don’t experience symptoms sufficiently debilitating to daily functioning to qualify for a SAD diagnosis.
“I get sad whenever it’s gray outside,” Sophia Zhang, TD ’28 told me on a rainy day inside the Morse College dining hall. Sophia grew up in the subtropical city of Shenzhen, China, with scorching summers and mild, sunny winters.“Where I’m from, you have sun all the time. And I loved it!”
The Winter Depression Research Clinic reports that those living in southerly latitudes may have more significant seasonal symptoms when they move further north. Sophia, however, is a veteran in dealing with winter blues. Despite growing up in Shenzhen, she spent her high school years in New Hampshire, where SAD rates are around 10%—double that of the New York latitude, as New Hampshire has even shorter days in the winter. To combat the collective winter gloom, her school’s library installed light boxes. These screens of full-spectrum fluorescent lights mimicking sunlight are typical parts of SAD treatment. “I would go to those all the time and just let it shine in my face,” Sophia said. Now in a more cramped TD dorm room, she leaves her curtains open and lamps switched on to illuminate an otherwise dark winter.
Maren Walker, TC ’28, is from San Francisco, where winter skies are gray, but daytime lasts longer than it does in the Northeast. She can feel New Haven’s darkness sapping her energy. “Sometimes I try to romanticize it to be productive,” said Maren, as I asked about her ways of coping. “But then it doesn’t work, and I’m just like—I should be in bed.” Because such long winters are a novelty, Maren’s mom encouraged her to get a light therapy lamp to “not be sad.” Maren, however, has not yet gotten her hand on one.
Some find the winter liberating. “I feel more justified in staying in when it’s cold outside, so I can just be indoors with a cup of coffee somewhere,” said Smile Jiang BK ’28, “there’s just more freedom to do whatever you want.” Winter also provides the opportunity to more intimately bond with friends: Friday night outings transform into nights in with your suitemates, drinking hot cocoa and watching a sitcom. Acts of self-care aren’t always easy—too often, I find myself submitting to the temptation of rotting in bed on Saturday mornings.
Winter socialization can become draining. Finals approach. Bass Library fills up at midnight. Conversations devolve into a competitive echo chamber: you have 200 pages of reading? I have 400. Got a last-week-of-school midterm? He’s got three.
Winter passes slowly, but it will indeed pass. The trees will bud and bloom. I will store my puffer away and try to remedy my caffeine addiction. In the meantime, the cold and dark tell me to cherish things: weighted blankets, ceiling lights, quiet radiators, tight hugs. At their urging I begin to notice how my neighbor’s fairy lights blink gently, like stars, into illumination each night. From these interviews, I learn, sometimes with exasperation, to ask for support. To seek out friends, blankets, and even light boxes just a tad more often, all before the sun shines down on Cross Campus again.