There’s a very specific kind of depression that hits me the minute I look outside at 5 PM and realize the sun has fully clocked out for the day. Not even a dramatic sunset. Just… darkness. One second it’s kind of sunny, the next it’s pitch black and you’re wondering why your body thinks it’s midnight. Winter evenings have a way of sneaking up on you, taking whatever motivation you had and flicking it off like a light switch. So the question becomes: how do you make this season feel less like a slow emotional collapse and more like something you can actually enjoy?
The first thing I’ve learned is that you can’t fight the darkness. You kind of have to lean into it and romanticize it. This is where hygge comes in. It’s a Danish concept that’s about making your environment feel warm and cozy enough that you stop caring about the outside world. Think of candle-lit rather than a big overhead light.
Lighting is the biggest hack. The overhead lights in my dorm feel like punishment after 5 PM Instead, I switch to lamps that make everything glow. Fairy lights, candles, salt lamps: Whatever warm light you can get your hands on, use it. To fight off the seasonal depression, your goal is to make your room feel less like a cave. Hygge lighting almost tricks your brain into thinking the darkness outside is planned, aesthetic, intentional.
Then there’s the question of how to actually spend your time. Because the worst feeling is when you suddenly realize it’s only 6:15 and you’ve already eaten dinner, scrolled through the entire internet, and contemplated cutting bangs. One of the better winter habits I’ve fallen into is planning tiny rituals. Small, comforting things that make the dark feel less heavy. A specific tea you only drink this time of year. A show you watch only at night. Listening to a new album each night.
Reading is also wildly better in the winter. Summer reading always feels performative, like you’re supposed to lie in the sun with a book and pretend you’re having the best afternoon of your life while sweating through your clothes. Winter reading is different. You’re under blankets, you’re barely talking to anyone, and you suddenly understand why people in old novels spend entire chapters sitting by a fire staring into the void.
If you’re someone who actually likes doing things, nighttime walks in the cold are underrated. Hear me out: put on a big coat that makes you feel dramatic, listen to music that makes the streetlights feel more cinematic, and just walk for twenty minutes. The key is keeping it short so you don’t freeze to death. The cold bites at your face a little, but in a way that makes you feel awake again after the post-5 PM slump.
And honestly, let yourself be a little slower. Winter is not the season for overachieving. It’s okay if your productivity drops at the same rate as the daylight hours. We’re human. Our circadian rhythms are fighting for their lives. If all you do after 5 PM is sit under a blanket and eat something warm, that’s not failure, but seasonal instinct.
So when it gets dark unfairly early, don’t panic. Think of it as an invitation. You’re not being forced indoors; you’re being nudged into softness, into warmth, into quiet. The world outside will do whatever it wants, but you don’t have to follow. Switch on your cozy lighting, make your space glow, and let the darkness become something that holds you instead of something that drains you. Winter nights don’t have to be depressing. With the right light and a little intention, they can actually feel like home.