Seasonal Affective Disorder Isn't Always About Feeling Sad — and You May Be Experiencing It Without Realizing
Have you ever noticed that certain times of the year seem to make everything harder?
Perhaps you're more anxious than usual, even though nothing particularly significant has changed. You're having trouble sleeping, your motivation has disappeared, or everyday challenges suddenly feel much more overwhelming.
Maybe you find yourself worrying excessively about things that wouldn't normally bother you. Your concentration is worse, your energy is lower, and you just don't feel quite like yourself.
And then, sometime in the spring, things begin to feel easier again.
What if some of what you're experiencing has less to do with your circumstances than you realize?
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is far more than simply feeling sad during the winter. And I suspect many people are significantly affected by seasonal changes without ever recognizing what's happening.
I know because I was one of them.
I've been a clinical social worker for more than 30 years, yet it was only about three or four years ago that I fully recognized that I experience Seasonal Affective Disorder myself.
Looking back, I suspect I've experienced it for much of my life. The seasonal pattern was there, but I didn't recognize it because it didn't look the way I thought SAD was supposed to look.
I had always imagined Seasonal Affective Disorder as something more dramatic and obvious. Someone becoming profoundly depressed during the winter, perhaps struggling to get out of bed or losing interest in everything they normally enjoyed.
That wasn't necessarily my experience.
For me, SAD tends to show up primarily as anxiety. But it's anxiety with a different quality to it.The best way I can describe it is anxiety with a side of doom.
Things that would ordinarily feel manageable suddenly seem much more concerning. I can find myself worrying about something far more intensely than I normally would, or experiencing a vague sense of dread that doesn't seem proportional to anything actually happening in my life.
As I've become more aware of the pattern, I've learned to recognize that when my anxiety suddenly seems unusually intense, the time of year may be contributing.
And that awareness has been incredibly helpful.
Rather than assuming something is terribly wrong, I can remind myself that my nervous system may be responding to the seasonal reduction in daylight.
I can take steps to support myself, and perhaps just as importantly, I can cut myself some slack.
Although I suspect I've always been sensitive to seasonal changes, my symptoms became considerably more pronounced during perimenopause and menopause.
What had previously been relatively subtle became much harder to ignore.
This isn't necessarily surprising. Hormonal transitions can affect mood, anxiety, sleep, and stress sensitivity. When those changes overlap with seasonal vulnerabilities, the combined experience may become much more noticeable.
Research into the specific relationship between menopause and SAD is still developing, so I wouldn't suggest that menopause necessarily causes SAD. But in my own experience, this was when the seasonal pattern became impossible to overlook.
It also helped explain experiences from earlier in my life that had never quite made sense.
One of my biggest surprises was discovering how early my symptoms could begin.
I had assumed that Seasonal Affective Disorder would become noticeable in November, December, or perhaps January, when the days are short and winter is firmly established.
But for me, significant symptoms can begin as early as September 1st.
Sometimes I can even feel the beginnings of the change in the latter part of August.It's still summer. The weather may be beautiful. There may be plenty of sunshine.
And yet, something feels different.
The days are getting shorter, and the quality and timing of daylight are changing. My body seems to notice those changes long before I consciously think of winter approaching.
Although winter-pattern SAD more commonly begins in the fall or early winter, individual patterns vary.
That's one reason I encourage people to pay attention to when they begin feeling different, rather than waiting until the middle of winter to consider whether seasonal changes might be affecting them.
For the first few years after my symptoms became more pronounced, one of my strategies was to travel south during the winter.
And those trips were enormously helpful.
But one particular trip to the Dominican Republic really brought home just how profoundly the lack of sunlight was affecting me.
The travel itself had been fraught with anxiety. By the time we arrived at our hotel, I was desperate to get outside and feel the sun.
Unfortunately, the check-in process took an extraordinarily long time.
By the time we finally got checked in, the sun was going down.
And I started sobbing.
I was so disappointed, so overwhelmed, and so desperate for relief that I couldn't contain my emotions.
It wasn't really about the inconvenience of a delayed hotel check-in. It was about how badly I needed to feel better.
The next morning, I was up unusually early and on the beach by 7:30 a.m.
Within about half an hour of being in the sunshine, I felt an extraordinary sense of relief wash through my entire body.
The anxiety and sense of doom that had been so overwhelming seemed to lift.
It was one of the most striking experiences I've had of how strongly seasonal light changes can affect me.
That experience was powerful, and it fit a pattern I was increasingly beginning to recognize.
Unfortunately, I also discovered something else.
Although travelling south could provide tremendous relief, after returning home the benefits generally lasted only about 10 days to two weeks before I began feeling off again.
Clearly, I needed a more sustainable strategy than repeatedly getting on airplanes!
Another important realization was how interconnected my symptoms were.
When I don't get enough daylight, or effective alternatives to natural daylight, my sleep can deteriorate significantly.
And when my sleep deteriorates, everything else becomes more difficult.
My anxiety increases. My ability to concentrate suffers. Everyday demands become more challenging.
I've also noticed that my stimulant medication doesn't seem nearly as effective when I'm not getting sufficient light or sleep.
Poor sleep can worsen attention, emotional regulation, and executive functioning. Increased anxiety can make sleep even more difficult. And when you're already struggling, maintaining the routines that might help can become harder.
It's easy to interpret this as a personal failure.
Why can't I get organized? Why am I worrying so much? Why does everything seem so difficult?
But sometimes there may be an important seasonal component that hasn't been recognized.
Interestingly, research suggests that people with ADHD symptoms may be particularly vulnerable to seasonal mood changes.
A 2016 study involving 2,239 participants found that probable SAD was approximately three times as common among those with clinically significant ADHD symptoms compared with those without them.
A 2025 study of 3,000 participants also found a significant association between ADHD traits and seasonal changes in mood, sleep, weight, and food preferences.
These findings don't mean everyone with ADHD experiences SAD, and the studies relied on screening measures rather than confirming every diagnosis. But they do suggest that seasonal changes deserve particular attention when someone with ADHD begins struggling more than usual.
The relationship between ADHD, circadian rhythms, sleep timing, and seasonal mood changes is especially interesting.
For people who already experience challenges with sleep regulation or executive functioning, seasonal changes may add another layer of difficulty.
And although ADHD is where some of the more specific research has been conducted, I think it's also worthwhile for other neurodivergent people to consider whether seasonal changes influence their individual patterns of functioning.
One of the things I find particularly interesting about Seasonal Affective Disorder is how its effects can extend beyond what we traditionally think of as mood symptoms.
Our sleep, cognitive functioning, emotional regulation, physical health, and nervous system functioning are all interconnected. When one area becomes more difficult, it can have a ripple effect on others.
For example, I live with fibromyalgia, and I've noticed that my chronic pain can be somewhat worse during the darker months. Interestingly, research has identified seasonal differences in fibromyalgia pain, with one large study finding greater widespread pain during autumn compared with summer, particularly among women.
People living with migraines may also notice seasonal changes in their symptoms. Interestingly, research has found that migraine attacks can vary throughout the year, although the patterns differ between individuals and geographic locations. Some people experience more migraines during the darker months, while others are more affected during spring or summer. Changes in sleep, daylight exposure, and weather may all play a role.
I'm also particularly interested in what this might mean for people recovering from brain injuries. Sleep disturbances, cognitive fatigue, and difficulties with emotional regulation are already common after concussion. Research into light therapy following traumatic brain injury has shown some promising findings for sleep and fatigue, although the evidence is still developing.
This doesn't necessarily mean that Seasonal Affective Disorder is directly responsible for worsening these conditions. Changes in temperature, activity, sleep, stress, and other seasonal factors may also be contributing.
But I think it highlights something important: when we begin struggling more than usual, it's worth considering the bigger picture rather than looking at each symptom in isolation.
For someone already managing ADHD, chronic pain, trauma, anxiety, or another complex condition, even relatively modest seasonal changes in sleep, mood, or energy may have a significant impact on their overall capacity to cope.
And sometimes recognizing that connection can help us respond to ourselves with greater understanding and compassion.
Before assuming that your anxiety, ADHD, chronic pain, or other symptoms are simply getting worse, consider whether you've noticed a similar pattern at this time of year before.
Sometimes what feels like a setback may actually be part of a recurring seasonal pattern that you haven't yet recognized.
This may be the most important thing I want people to understand.
Seasonal Affective Disorder is classified as a form of depression with a recurring seasonal pattern. But depression doesn't always feel like sadness.
It can also involve anxiety, irritability, restlessness, hopelessness, difficulty concentrating, changes in sleep, reduced motivation, and feeling overwhelmed.
Some people sleep much more than usual. Others, like me, may experience significant insomnia.
Some withdraw socially or lose interest in activities. Others find themselves increasingly anxious, reactive, or unable to manage the demands of everyday life.
And some people experience milder seasonal difficulties that don't meet the diagnostic criteria for SAD but still meaningfully affect their quality of life.
You don't have to feel conventionally depressed to recognize that seasonal changes may be affecting your mental health.
The important question is whether there's a recurring pattern.
Do certain difficulties consistently become worse as the days shorten and improve when daylight becomes more plentiful?
That pattern may be worth exploring.
Because my clinical practice is entirely online and international, I work with people living in many different climates and geographic locations.
Over time, I've become increasingly aware of how often seasonal changes are overlooked.
When a client tells me that they've been struggling much more than usual, particularly between fall and spring, I've learned to ask where they live.
Then we begin looking at the timing of their difficulties.When did their sleep start getting worse? When did their anxiety increase? Have they experienced similar changes in previous years? Do things tend to improve in the spring?
It's remarkable how often people begin recognizing a seasonal pattern they hadn't previously considered.
Sometimes the difficulties have been attributed entirely to stress, trauma, ADHD, burnout, or other challenges.
And those things may certainly be contributing.
But recognizing a seasonal component can open up additional possibilities for support.
It doesn't mean that everything someone is experiencing is caused by SAD. It simply means we may have identified another important piece of the puzzle.
Over the past several years, I've experimented with different approaches and learned a great deal about what helps me.
I don't think there's one perfect solution for everyone. But there are several strategies worth considering.
Bright-light therapy is one of the most established treatments for winter-pattern Seasonal Affective Disorder.
I've used SAD lamps for years, but one of my biggest discoveries was that not all lamps are equally effective.
During that memorable trip to the Dominican Republic, I had already been using a SAD lamp daily. It simply wasn't providing enough relief.
Last year, I invested in a much better-quality lamp, and the difference for me was remarkable.
In fact, I didn't even need to travel south last winter, and I'm considering staying home again this year.
Good-quality lamps can be more expensive. While some inexpensive models cost around $40–$60, others may be closer to $100–$200 or more.
But compared with taking several winter vacations, a genuinely effective lamp can be a very worthwhile investment!
Price alone isn't the deciding factor, however. What matters is whether the device provides appropriate light intensity at a practical viewing distance, along with suitable UV filtering and clear usage instructions.
Many clinical recommendations involve a 10,000-lux light box used in the morning, although the appropriate duration and distance depend on the device and individual circumstances.
It's worth choosing carefully and discussing light therapy with a knowledgeable healthcare professional, particularly if you have certain eye conditions, take medications that increase light sensitivity, or have bipolar disorder.
I also have a professional-grade red-light therapy system that I've personally found very helpful.
I generally use my SAD lamp in the morning and my red-light system in the evening, when I find it supports my sleep.
Conventional bright-light therapy has a much stronger evidence base for SAD than red-light therapy does. Red-light devices also vary considerably in their wavelengths, intensity, and intended uses.
So I wouldn't suggest that red-light therapy is an established replacement for a SAD lamp.It's simply another tool I've found beneficial in my own routine.
For me, sleep is one of the biggest pieces of the puzzle.
When I don't get enough effective light exposure, my sleep can become much worse. And when I'm not sleeping well, the anxiety and executive functioning challenges become much more difficult to manage.
Maintaining a reasonably consistent sleep schedule, getting appropriate daytime light exposure, and paying attention to how different habits affect sleep can be enormously helpful.
For me, regularly listening to the Rest & Restore Protocol (RRP) has become an important part of supporting better sleep. Interestingly, I've also noticed that I need to be more mindful of how I pace my RRP listening during the darker months, as seasonal changes seem to influence how much listening my nervous system can comfortably manage. It's another reminder that our nervous system's needs aren't necessarily constant throughout the year, and that adjusting our approach accordingly can make a meaningful difference.
Read more about my RRP journey here...
I also think it's important not to underestimate how much poor sleep can amplify everything else.
Sometimes what feels like a dramatic deterioration in mental health is being compounded by significant sleep disruption.
Vitamin D is another consideration, particularly for people living in northern climates where sunlight exposure is limited during winter.
Low vitamin D levels may contribute to health difficulties, and correcting a deficiency is important. However, research on vitamin D supplements as a specific treatment for SAD has produced mixed results.
It's worth discussing testing and supplementation with a healthcare professional rather than assuming that more is always better.
Regular movement, nourishing food, time outdoors, social connection, and other basic forms of self-care can also help support overall well-being.
None of these strategies needs to be approached perfectly.
Sometimes doing what you reasonably can is enough for that day.
This is an area that's especially important to me, both personally and professionally.
When I'm experiencing more seasonal anxiety, I find it helpful to pay attention to my overall nervous system regulation.That might mean slowing down, reducing unnecessary demands, using familiar regulation practices, or making more space for rest and recovery.
In my clinical work, I also use approaches such as somatic therapy and nervous system-focused interventions to help people develop greater capacity for managing stress and emotional overwhelm.
These aren't established stand-alone treatments for SAD, but they may be useful complementary supports when seasonal changes are interacting with anxiety, trauma, or other challenges.
Perhaps most importantly, I've learned to be kinder to myself.
Even when I'm doing all the things that help, I don't necessarily feel quite the same during the darker months as I do when sunlight is more plentiful.
And that's okay.
When I notice that I'm worrying more than usual or reacting more strongly to something, I can consider whether the season is playing a role.
That doesn't make my feelings any less real.
It simply helps me understand them with more compassion.
One of the challenges with Seasonal Affective Disorder is that we can keep forgetting to take it into account.
Even when we know we're affected by seasonal changes, it's surprisingly easy to become caught up in the immediate difficulties and lose sight of the bigger pattern.
We may forget the strategies that helped last year. We may not recognize that our sleep has been deteriorating for weeks. Or we may assume that an increase in anxiety means something has gone terribly wrong in our lives.
Having an outside perspective can be invaluable.
A therapist who understands SAD can help identify recurring patterns, explore how seasonal changes interact with other challenges, and support the development of strategies that are realistic and sustainable.
For some people, this might involve recognizing the overlap between SAD and ADHD, anxiety, trauma, menopause, or chronic stress.
For others, it may involve building routines, identifying early warning signs, or learning how to respond more compassionately when symptoms begin to increase.
Psychotherapy is also an evidence-based treatment for SAD, particularly cognitive behavioural therapy adapted for seasonal depression.In my own practice, I take an individualized approach, drawing on more than 30 years of clinical experience and my training in trauma, neurodivergence, somatic therapies, and nervous system regulation.
I know from personal experience how long it can take to recognize these patterns.
And I know how much difference that recognition can make.
If you've noticed that your anxiety, sleep, mood, concentration, or ability to manage everyday life tends to change at certain times of the year, I encourage you to get curious about the pattern.
You might begin by looking back over the past several years.
When do things tend to become more difficult? When do they begin improving? Are there changes in your sleep, energy, anxiety, or motivation that you've never connected to the seasons?
You may discover that there's more of a pattern than you realized.
And if you do, that awareness can be an important first step toward finding effective support.
For me, recognizing Seasonal Affective Disorder didn't make the darker months magically easy.
But it helped me understand what was happening, find strategies that made a meaningful difference, and stop being quite so hard on myself when things felt more difficult.
Sometimes understanding why you're struggling is the beginning of making things easier.
I'm Carol Ann Brayley, MSW, RSW, SEP, a clinical social worker with more than 30 years of experience supporting people with anxiety, trauma, neurodivergence, and complex nervous system challenges.
I offer individualized online therapy for adults, integrating traditional psychotherapy with somatic and nervous system-informed approaches.
If seasonal changes are making life feel more difficult, or if you're struggling with anxiety, sleep, emotional overwhelm, or other challenges, I'd be happy to explore how therapy might support you.
Learn more about my work at SSP Yoda.
This article is intended for education and personal reflection and is not a substitute for individualized medical assessment or treatment.