SAD has been equated to the experience of jet lag or to the slump we all feel when we donate back that arbitrary hour in the name of Daylight Saving Time. Undoubtedly, then, you have suffered too.

I imagine I understand a little about someone with ADHD or autism, the world spinning brightly by as we try to hop on board. I have stopped blaming myself, stopped being ashamed or minimalizing my condition. I must take care of myself like someone with diabetes. This is a hard lesson. No one wants a disease or mental condition. Yet here we are. Humans. Suffering. No one gets out alive.

What I do is this: I need light like insulin, rising when a vampire would retire, taking it in like blood. I can feel the pull of the sludge, and some days I succumb. The next day I pull myself up and walk in the low angled light. I force myself to say yes sometimes, but sometimes I say no. If I need help, I look up and find a hand and let them pull me up. And sometimes even in the dark, I too will see a hand and pull.

And spring will come with the first tender green shoots and blessed stretching of the days. I will feel joy bubble up inside me and swell, and I will look outwardly again. I will savor spring and summer with a hunger and appreciation that is the gift of winter. Persephone returned home.

 

When you are pulled out by a riptide, your instinct is to panic, to struggle back the way you came. You can’t fight a riptide head on. You must resist your natural inclinations. A riptide is too strong. If you push against it, you wear out, slipping slowly under, first your body giving out to the churning water, and then your mind. Instead, you must understand it as it is, a beautiful chaotic mysterious force, and let it bear you lightly out to sea. If you float with it, it won’t take you too far, just far enough to see the entire shoreline in one panoramic shot, and the view from the sea is lovely. When the current releases you, stick your head up and turn to the right. Begin moving in sure, slow strokes and make your way home to shore.

 

Sharon Lee Snow earned an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of South Florida in Tampa. Her award-winning work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and published in Typehouse Literary Magazine, Gulf Stream Magazine, Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art, Bridge Eight Literary Magazine, and other journals. She’s currently working on a series of poems about her time in LA, a short story collection, and essays about illness and life. Connect with her on Twitter @sharonleesnow