For most of the year, I’m a gregarious—and some would say cocky—individual. I’m also an eternal optimist. From March to October I’m an extrovert. But as fall turns to winter and the days get shorter, my personality and outlook grow dark. It starts with social cues. I become quieter, less chatty. I’ll stumble over my words. I look people in the eyes less and avoid meeting new people. I recognized this personality shift for many years, but attributed it to stress associated with school. I made excuses for not hanging out with friends; I wouldn’t do anything outside my comfort zone. Many times, instead of going to parties, I’d end up staying in, isolated and, at times, hopeless. I would have unexplainable guilt. I became argumentative and hot-tempered. All of these things would compound and exacerbate my depression.

I spend a portion of every year struggling with what has been, at times, debilitating depression. Since going off to college, I’ve fought a yearly battle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. For me, and many others living with Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, it is a constant struggle during the shorter days of winter to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Depending on the severity, it can ruin relationships, increase substance abuse and even result in suicide. The Mayo Clinic estimates that 15 million Americans suffer from SAD. That’s about one person in every 20. Researchers believe the onset of winter depression is due to a decrease in dopamine and serotonin levels during the shorter days of winter.

I first noticed symptoms my first semester of college as winter set in. I didn’t drink then—thankfully. I was unsure of why I was so unhappy. I had just broken up with a girlfriend, so I chalked my feelings of guilt, hopelessness and anxiety up to her. But as the winter months wore on, I felt worse and worse. I could always get out of bed in the morning, but that was about all I could do. My routine was pathetic: go to class, sleep, eat something, nap again, study, back to bed, repeat. I knew there was a great big world out there, and I was missing it. But I felt weighted down, unable to act or to convey what was bothering me. When I began drinking my sophomore year, it only compounded my depression. I’m not a heavy drinker, except when I’m out drinking. What I mean by this is that I don’t drink that frequently, though I would drink more in winter. But when I would go out, I would binge drink, regardless of the occasion. I spent many a cold winter’s night cuddled up around the toilet, self-medicating in the form of overindulgence.

Every spring, my symptoms would subside and I’d re-emerge into the world from my self-imposed exile, quickly forgetting all I had been through. Sure enough, as soon as the days would get shorter, I’d find myself facing the same feelings I had the year before. I’m not good with subtlety—ask any girl I’ve ever dated. But after a few seasons, even I began to notice this pattern. Perhaps it is because my “normal personality” stands in stark contrast to the person I can become in winter, my good friends and family were quick to recognize the symptoms—sometimes even before I did. Eventually, after many years of their nagging, I acquiesced and looked into treatment. I had railed against taking any form of medication. I thought by doing so I was admitting weakness. Regardless of the time of year, I’m always stubborn.

I hate the terms carelessly used as synonyms for SAD: “winter blues” and “hibernation effect” come to mind. They serve only to belittle a disorder that can have crippling effects. I also think SAD is a poor acronym, as if you just needed cheering up. I believe the cyclical nature of this form of depression lends itself to being downplayed. I know I’ve thought to myself, “I only have to make it through the next few months, then I’ll be fine.” But really, who wants to live a portion of every year just “making it through”? Life, and living, takes precedence over waiting for the days to grow long again.

The drugs frequently used to treat SAD—Prozac, Zoloft and Lexipro—are the same used to treat generalized depression and anxiety disorders. These medicines take a “shotgun” approach to treatment, meaning they have a broad effect on the brain’s chemicals. As such, they come with a host of side effects. Some of which can reduce your sex drive—something to really get depressed about. Finding the right one was a personal chemistry experiment, not something I embarked on lightly. Because my depression is seasonal and not rooted in deeper psychological issues, I didn’t need to visit a psychiatrist. General practice doctors frequently treat SAD, and many are very well-versed in the different treatments available. In general, most sufferers using drug therapy, including myself, need to take medication only during the winter months.

Medication is no panacea. With or without drug therapy, healthy lifestyle choices make a big difference. I’m high-strung to begin with, so working out is essential to relieve stress. A balanced diet also seems to help. I’ve found that aiming for an alcohol intake of zero to five drinks per week helps a lot. Moderation goes a long way to prevent self-medicating through overindulgence. And while a healthy diet, exercise and keeping a regular sleep schedule can do wonders to mitigate depression, it’s not always practical or even possible to follow a regimented routine through college. It’s hard when I want to sleep in because of a late class, or end up working late into the night because of a paper due the next morning. Or because I still want to have a social life on weekends.

Getting motivated to do homework, or anything after dark, is still difficult. When the sun goes down, my body says, “Sleep now!” This is a problem when it’s dark by 5 p.m. and I have work to do. A relative bought me a full-spectrum lamp that was supposed to help mitigate the symptoms. I noticed no change, but it did get me thinking. For me, a much more effective method was using a Craftsman industrial shop light. Nothing beats basking in the blinding white radiance produced by two 1,000-watt halogen bulbs. It’s my study light. It keeps me awake and focused on the task at hand.

I’ve been struggling with SAD for six years. I’m proud to say that after too many years of ignoring my symptoms and, at times, letting them spiral out of control, I’ve managed to find a way to balance my depression with effective treatment methods. But I still hate the shorter days of winter. Perhaps one day I’ll buy two houses, one in each hemisphere, and travel between them so I’ll always live in a “summer home.” Until then, I’ll continue to manage my depression. I would never say, “I’m glad to have SAD,” because that would sound stupid. However, I am thankful that if this is the biggest mental disorder I have to face, at least it’s one that is treatable. I’m grateful that I have to worry about keeping it in check only during the winter months, and that it is a form of depression that, in large part, relies on treatments that improve my quality of life regardless of the season.