Personal reflections on seasonal affective disorder and emotional freeze
Date: 2026-03-01
Summary
While driving toward the North End, I plan to stop at Cafe Flora for a coffee or hot drink, do some writing, and then help Bill for an hour or two. After taking LSD last night, I’ve been feeling a lot of insights, especially about how suffocated I feel being back on Salt Spring Island in winter. Since moving there, I’ve experienced seasonal affective symptoms I didn’t have in Victoria, Comox, Los Angeles, or San Francisco.
I notice my system feels overstimulated yet “frozen,” which feels different from grief—more like stuck energy, with little movement or release. Over the past three and a half weeks, broader world events (including two wars and the government targeting an AI company I see as relatively less harmful) have added to the heaviness, alongside dark, cold winter days. I recognize a tendency to withdraw and “phase out,” and I believe the way through is to deliberately show up, connect, and do at least one thing I genuinely enjoy.
Tidy Transcript
Okay, we’re recording video—or just audio for now. I’m driving toward North End. I’m going to get a coffee or a hot drink from Cafe Flora, write a little bit, and then go help out Bill for an hour or two.
Last night I took LSD—some droppers—and I’m feeling a lot of insights in many ways.
Primarily, I’m noticing how suffocated I felt being back on Salt Spring. This land definitely takes me for a loop in the winter.
I’ve never experienced seasonal affective disorder until I moved to Salt Spring Island. I didn’t experience it in Victoria. I didn’t experience it in Comox. I definitely didn’t experience it in LA or San Francisco.
I’m noticing that being back, my system hasn’t caught up. My system feels a little bit over-fried, overstimulated, and frozen. “Frozen” is a good word, I think—because grief is a state, and grief has some fire to it, but what this is is freeze. There’s no fire, there’s not a lot of earth, and there’s a lot of getting caught up in stories and ideas.
And there’s also no water, because at least that way the energy moves. This energy kind of just stays in without an escape hatch.
Since being back, just in the last three and a half weeks, there have been two wars. The government is also, at the same time, warring with probably the least evil, the least bad AI company out there right now.
And it’s also the dark, gloomy, cold days. I’ve definitely noticed how I tend to shrivel and shy away. It reminds me of the “mostly harmless” guy, in the sense that he pointed to these phase-outs where he would just time himself out.
A lot of the time, I’ve been in this position, and you know what the best key is through that muck? It’s to really show up, connect, and do something that you like. It doesn’t have to be a lot of things—just something that you like.