Nestled in the heart of NYC’s West Village, the therapists at Atrium Psychotherapy invite you on a journey of self-discovery and emotional exploration. "Couch Chronicles" is more than just a column; it's a tapestry of human experiences, woven with tales of growth, transformation, love, and loss.

Each installment offers fresh insights and reflections from their professional and personal lives in one of the world's most dynamic cities. Whether you're seeking guidance, inspiration, or a deeper understanding of the intricate world of psychotherapy, "Couch Chronicles" promises to be a beacon of light and learning.

It’s very cold in NYC right now, with temperatures dropping to around 20 degrees in the evening. By 4:30, it’s already dark, and the wind chill hits you between the buildings. Last week, I was invited to a holiday party that started at 7 p.m. “That’s so late,” I thought to myself. I started thinking through what I’d wear — what festive dress could hide a thermal underlayer? What coat would work in case I didn’t want to take it off, especially if I ended up near a drafty window? What time could I leave to get straight into my pajamas? Would I even feel like going once the evening rolled around? I began planning possible excuses, just in case I decided to cancel.

Winter makes everything feel like extra work. It’s not just the cold or the layers you have to put on to confront the elements—it’s also the internal resistance, the pull to stay in, to hibernate. The effort of going out feels heavier, as if every step into the world demands more energy than usual. This internal struggle mirrors the external one: just as we bundle up to face the freezing winds, we also have to summon the energy to push back against the inertia that winter brings.

For many, this dual confrontation — the external harshness of the season and the internal resistance it evokes — can become overwhelming. It’s more than just a preference to stay in; it can feel like a deep, unshakable fatigue, dread, or melancholy, a heaviness that clouds even the simplest decisions.

This heaviness can feel isolating, but it’s also deeply human. But for some, this natural rhythm becomes something more—the persistent weight of seasonal depression, known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), which can make it feel like the tide is too strong to resist. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) was first formally described in 1984 by psychiatrist and researcher Dr. Norman E. Rosenthal and his colleagues at the National Institute of Mental Health. Although it is not classified as a distinct disorder, SAD is recognized in the DSM-5 as a specifier for depression — with a seasonal pattern

The symptoms of SAD mirror those of depression, including persistent low mood, loss of interest or pleasure in activities, fatigue, difficulty concentrating, changes in appetite or sleep patterns, and feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness. What distinguishes SAD is its predictable timing — symptoms typically emerge during the fall or winter months when daylight hours shorten and often remit as spring and summer return. It’s typically considered to be caused by changes in exposure to daylight.

While mainstream conversations often focus on light therapy or vitamin D supplements, a psychodynamic and Jungian perspective invites us to explore the symbolic and emotional layers of this experience. Winter’s cold months become not just something to endure, but a reminder to appreciate that growth often happens beneath the surface, in unseen, quiet ways.

The Seasonal Descent: A Psychodynamic View

From a psychodynamic standpoint, seasonal depression might echo deeper, unconscious struggles. Winter can amplify feelings of loss, longing, or unresolved grief, as it strips away external distractions and invites us to sit with ourselves. This season often brings us face-to-face with:

• Endings and Beginnings: The end of the year invites reflection on what we’ve achieved — or haven’t. It can stir feelings of regret or dissatisfaction as we reckon with unmet goals or changes we had hoped to make. At the same time, the new year looms ahead with its promise of a fresh start, which can feel equally daunting — a blank slate that demands action and ambition when we may feel too depleted to meet it.
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• Family Dynamics: The holidays are a time when family relationships take center stage, whether through gatherings, absences, or memories. Old patterns can resurface — unspoken expectations, unresolved conflicts, or the weight of familial roles we’ve inhabited for years. Even joyful moments can carry a bittersweet undertone, as we navigate the complex web of connection, loss, and longing.
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• Confrontation with "Laziness": The natural pull to slow down and retreat during the colder months often clashes with internalized cultural values around productivity and activity. Staying in or choosing rest can feel like giving in to "laziness," a label that brings guilt and self-criticism. This dissonance can deepen the struggle, as we wrestle with the desire to hibernate and the pressure to push through.

Winter’s stillness magnifies these themes, creating space for reflection but also for discomfort. Psychodynamic therapy invites us to explore these struggles, uncovering their roots and reframing them as opportunities for self-discovery rather than burdens to bear alone.

Seasonal Archetypes: A Jungian Approach

In Jungian terms, winter is a potent archetype of descent — akin to the hero’s journey into the underworld. In certain mythologies, the underworld is depicted as icy and desolate, a place where one confronts the starkest realities of existence. These frozen landscapes can mirror the psyche’s cycles, inviting us to turn inward and confront the parts of ourselves that have been “iced out” — the repressed, neglected, or forgotten aspects of who we are. Seasonal depression, then, isn’t just a “problem” to fix. It’s a symbolic and even cyclic call to slow down and to listen to what these shadowed or frozen parts of the self might be teaching us.

Tending to the Inner World

Navigating seasonal depression doesn’t have to be about fighting it — it can be an opportunity to approach your inner world with curiosity and care. Here are some ways to engage with the season thoughtfully:

• Dreamwork: Dreams, which can serve as emissaries from the "icy place" within — offer a window into what’s going on unconsciously, revealing symbols, feelings, or forgotten aspects of yourself. Keep a notebook or use your phone to capture dreams upon waking, even dream fragments. Consider exploring them with a therapist who can help uncover their meaning and connection to your emotional landscape.
• Seasonal Rituals: Lean into the rhythm of winter by creating small rituals that honor this time of introspection. Light candles as the sun sets, write in a journal to process your thoughts, or set quiet intentions for the season ahead. These acts can transform the darkness into a meaningful, restorative space.
• Therapeutic Exploration: Therapy can provide a safe space to uncover the deeper roots of seasonal depression and see how it fits into the larger narrative of your life. Teletherapy, in particular, allows you to engage in this work from the warmth of home without having to confront the cold or the logistical challenges of going out.
• Connecting with Others: Winter often feels particularly isolating after the new year, when holiday parties and end-of-year deadlines no longer distract us. I’ve found solace in connecting with friends who also dread this time of year. We’ve agreed to get together regularly for shared meals or even to watch movies, creating cozy, intentional moments that make the season feel more bearable. Seeking out or creating these small, consistent gatherings can be a comforting reminder that you don’t have to face the winter alone.

Reclaiming the Gifts of Winter

Winter brings a unique heaviness. While this can feel isolating — or even ice-olating — there is also something universal and archetypal about the pull away from the world during this season. Winter asks us to retreat. Even if your schedule doesn’t allow for slowing down completely, there are ways to work with the forces that make you want to stay under the covers.

For some, this descent into the icy underworld goes deeper. If you identify with the symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) — the persistent fatigue, melancholy, or struggle to face the day — it’s important to remember that you’re not alone. SAD is more than just “the winter blues,” and there are ways to find relief. Reaching out for help is not just an act of self-care — it’s a way to discover meaning in the darkness. And while the heaviness can feel endless, it can be comforting to remember that seasons change, and this too will pass. Sometimes, we simply have to hold on and get through it.

At the same time, winter offers a counterbalance: the warmth of the indoors. As French philosopher Gaston Bachelard (1958) reflected in The Poetics of Space, “We feel warm because it is cold out-of-doors.” The starkness of winter — the long nights, the biting cold — makes the comfort of warm drinks, glowing candles, and cozy sweaters feel all the more delicious.

FYI, I did go to the party. I did sit by a drafty window, keeping my coat on until I decided to move seats. After enough good conversation and tasty food, I forgot it was even cold out.