Summer depression is real: Understanding reverse SAD
Reverse seasonal affective disorder (SAD) can hit especially hard for neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, or both. Here's how it can show up and what helps.
No items found.
Reverse seasonal affective disorder (SAD) can hit especially hard for neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, or both. Here's how it can show up and what helps.
Picture this: Everyone around you is posting about beach days and barbecues, while you're hiding indoors with the curtains drawn, wondering why summer feels so overwhelming. If this sounds familiar, you're definitely not alone.
Most people know about seasonal affective disorder as a winter thing, where short days and gray skies can send some brains into a tailspin of lethargy and carb cravings. But here's the plot twist: for some of us, summer is the villain in this story.
Reverse SAD flips the script entirely, causing your mood and functioning to take a nosedive when the days get longer and the temperature climbs. While winter SAD whispers "sleep more, eat toast," summer SAD screams "everything is too much, too bright, too loud, and why can't you just sit still?" It's less common than its winter cousin, which means it's also less understood, and you might have spent years thinking you're just sensitive to heat while everyone else seems to thrive in the endless daylight.
If you're neurodivergent, whether you're ADHD, Autistic, AuDHD, or have another brain difference, summer can feel like sensory warfare, with your nervous system already working overtime to process a world that wasn't designed for you suddenly facing an onslaught of extra stimulation.
Those longer days mess with your carefully calibrated sleep schedule while the blazing sun feels like it's trying to burn through your retinas. Air conditioning units hum incessantly, lawnmowers roar to life at 7 AM, and neighbors decide it's the perfect time for loud gatherings that stretch late into the night. Then there are the social expectations, where suddenly everyone expects you to be "fun" and "outdoorsy" and "spontaneous," words that might make you want to hide under a weighted blanket until October.
The shift from spring to summer can feel jarring, like someone switched the settings on your world without asking, and for brains that thrive on routine and predictability, this seasonal transition can be genuinely disorienting. But here's what's important: reverse SAD isn't about being antisocial or ungrateful for nice weather, it's your nervous system responding to real changes in light, temperature, routine, and sensory input. Your brain is doing exactly what it's designed to do, just responding to summer differently than the majority of people around you.
Reverse SAD is like a shape-shifter, appearing differently for each person depending on how your brain processes sensory input, emotion, time, and social dynamics. What might feel like overwhelming heat sensitivity for one person could show up as sleep disruption for another, or emotional volatility for someone else entirely. These patterns aren't personal failings but rather your nervous system's authentic responses to environmental changes.
Some days, you might feel like you've been plugged into an electrical socket, with your whole system buzzing with restless energy, but not the good kind. You're exhausted but can't settle, your skin feels itchy from the inside, and even lying down feels impossible because your body seems to vibrate with tension.
What might help: Think of yourself as a phone that's been overcharged and needs to discharge some of that excess energy by creating deliberate calm pockets throughout your day. Dim the lights, switch your phone to grayscale, or find the lowest, most rumbling sounds you can (think thunderstorms or brown noise), while weighted blankets can work like a gentle full-body hug for your nervous system. Consider shifting toward low-dopamine routines that reduce stimulation rather than adding more excitement to your day. If you need to move, try repetitive motions that feel soothing like rocking in a chair, swinging on a swing set, or walking the same familiar route over and over.
The world suddenly feels like it's been turned up to eleven, where sunlight doesn't just shine but assaults, heat doesn't warm but suffocates, and every sound seems amplified, from the neighbor's leaf blower to your own breathing. Even textures that usually don't bother you might feel unbearable against your skin.
What might help: Create a sensory sanctuary by controlling your environment. Blackout curtains and eye masks block overwhelming light, while cooling sheets and breathable fabrics help regulate temperature. Noise-canceling headphones aren't rude, they're adaptive equipment. When everything feels too intense, cold showers can reset your system, and designating one room as your low-stimulation retreat gives you a place to recharge without guilt.
Those endless summer days can wreak absolute havoc on your sleep. Your brain, still expecting darkness to signal bedtime, gets confused by light streaming through windows at 9 PM. Heat makes your body work harder to cool down. You finally drift off only to wake up multiple times, or pop awake at 5 AM when the sun starts its daily assault.
What might help: Become a sleep environment designer. Eye masks and blackout curtains are non negotiable. Keep your bedtime routine consistent even when the world around you shifts your brain needs those predictable signals. If you wake up in the middle of the night, resist the siren call of your phone screen. Instead, try soft music, audiobooks with familiar voices, or white noise that masks the early morning lawn care symphony. Sometimes accepting that your sleep might look different in summer and planning for it works better than fighting it.
Your emotional landscape might start resembling a summer storm: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming. Small irritations feel enormous. You might find yourself tearing up over things that normally wouldn't faze you, or feeling emotionally flat when you expect to feel joy.
What might help: Start tracking your emotional weather patterns without trying to change them immediately. Jot down a few words each morning and evening about how you're feeling. Look for patterns over time maybe you consistently feel worse on particularly hot days, or better when you've had consistent sleep. When possible, reduce your exposure to situations that require intense masking or emotional labor. Ground yourself with sensory experiences that feel nurturing: the weight of a pet on your lap, the rhythm of brushing your hair, the satisfaction of organizing something small and manageable.
Summer heat can make eating feel like a chore. Foods that usually appeal to you might suddenly seem repulsive. The smell of cooking might trigger nausea. Your appetite might disappear entirely, or you might forget to eat because you're so overwhelmed by other sensations.
What might help: Lean into cold, simple foods that don't require much preparation or cleanup. Smoothies, fruit, cold soups, and room temperature rice become your allies. Set external reminders to eat pair meals with specific TV shows or podcasts so you have a non internal cue. Give yourself permission to eat smaller amounts more frequently if that feels more manageable. Your body needs fuel to cope with all the extra sensory processing it's doing.
Summer days can feel simultaneously endless and fleeting. You might lose track of time more easily, forget what you did earlier in the day, or feel like weeks have passed in a single afternoon. The disruption to your usual routines can make everything feel unmoored and confusing.
What might help: Make time visible through external cues. Apps like Tiimo can show your day in colored blocks or visual schedules that feel less overwhelming than traditional planners. Physical clocks placed strategically around your space can help anchor you. Create small daily rituals that serve as temporal landmarks lighting a candle at the same time each evening, or taking a specific photo each morning.
If you've made it this far and you're thinking "finally, someone gets it," trust that instinct. Reverse SAD has been the overlooked sibling in seasonal depression research for far too long, and neurodivergent experiences within that already limited understanding have been pushed even further to the margins.
Here's what you need to know: You're not being dramatic. You're not sensitive to heat in some way that needs fixing, and you're certainly not ungrateful for nice weather. Your nervous system is responding to real environmental changes in ways that are completely valid, even if they're different from how other people experience the season.
Sometimes the strategies above help, and sometimes you need additional support. If you're feeling overwhelmed, stuck, or disconnected for more than a few days, reaching out is always okay. You don't need to wait until things get worse to ask for care.
For many neurodivergent people, summer brings a mix of increased sensory load, disrupted routines, and pressure to socialize in ways that feel out of sync with how we function best. If this sounds familiar, you're not imagining it.
If you are experiencing thoughts of self harm or suicide, please seek immediate support. Tiimo is not a crisis service, but the following resources can help:
Reverse seasonal affective disorder (SAD) can hit especially hard for neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, or both. Here's how it can show up and what helps.
Picture this: Everyone around you is posting about beach days and barbecues, while you're hiding indoors with the curtains drawn, wondering why summer feels so overwhelming. If this sounds familiar, you're definitely not alone.
Most people know about seasonal affective disorder as a winter thing, where short days and gray skies can send some brains into a tailspin of lethargy and carb cravings. But here's the plot twist: for some of us, summer is the villain in this story.
Reverse SAD flips the script entirely, causing your mood and functioning to take a nosedive when the days get longer and the temperature climbs. While winter SAD whispers "sleep more, eat toast," summer SAD screams "everything is too much, too bright, too loud, and why can't you just sit still?" It's less common than its winter cousin, which means it's also less understood, and you might have spent years thinking you're just sensitive to heat while everyone else seems to thrive in the endless daylight.
If you're neurodivergent, whether you're ADHD, Autistic, AuDHD, or have another brain difference, summer can feel like sensory warfare, with your nervous system already working overtime to process a world that wasn't designed for you suddenly facing an onslaught of extra stimulation.
Those longer days mess with your carefully calibrated sleep schedule while the blazing sun feels like it's trying to burn through your retinas. Air conditioning units hum incessantly, lawnmowers roar to life at 7 AM, and neighbors decide it's the perfect time for loud gatherings that stretch late into the night. Then there are the social expectations, where suddenly everyone expects you to be "fun" and "outdoorsy" and "spontaneous," words that might make you want to hide under a weighted blanket until October.
The shift from spring to summer can feel jarring, like someone switched the settings on your world without asking, and for brains that thrive on routine and predictability, this seasonal transition can be genuinely disorienting. But here's what's important: reverse SAD isn't about being antisocial or ungrateful for nice weather, it's your nervous system responding to real changes in light, temperature, routine, and sensory input. Your brain is doing exactly what it's designed to do, just responding to summer differently than the majority of people around you.
Reverse SAD is like a shape-shifter, appearing differently for each person depending on how your brain processes sensory input, emotion, time, and social dynamics. What might feel like overwhelming heat sensitivity for one person could show up as sleep disruption for another, or emotional volatility for someone else entirely. These patterns aren't personal failings but rather your nervous system's authentic responses to environmental changes.
Some days, you might feel like you've been plugged into an electrical socket, with your whole system buzzing with restless energy, but not the good kind. You're exhausted but can't settle, your skin feels itchy from the inside, and even lying down feels impossible because your body seems to vibrate with tension.
What might help: Think of yourself as a phone that's been overcharged and needs to discharge some of that excess energy by creating deliberate calm pockets throughout your day. Dim the lights, switch your phone to grayscale, or find the lowest, most rumbling sounds you can (think thunderstorms or brown noise), while weighted blankets can work like a gentle full-body hug for your nervous system. Consider shifting toward low-dopamine routines that reduce stimulation rather than adding more excitement to your day. If you need to move, try repetitive motions that feel soothing like rocking in a chair, swinging on a swing set, or walking the same familiar route over and over.
The world suddenly feels like it's been turned up to eleven, where sunlight doesn't just shine but assaults, heat doesn't warm but suffocates, and every sound seems amplified, from the neighbor's leaf blower to your own breathing. Even textures that usually don't bother you might feel unbearable against your skin.
What might help: Create a sensory sanctuary by controlling your environment. Blackout curtains and eye masks block overwhelming light, while cooling sheets and breathable fabrics help regulate temperature. Noise-canceling headphones aren't rude, they're adaptive equipment. When everything feels too intense, cold showers can reset your system, and designating one room as your low-stimulation retreat gives you a place to recharge without guilt.
Those endless summer days can wreak absolute havoc on your sleep. Your brain, still expecting darkness to signal bedtime, gets confused by light streaming through windows at 9 PM. Heat makes your body work harder to cool down. You finally drift off only to wake up multiple times, or pop awake at 5 AM when the sun starts its daily assault.
What might help: Become a sleep environment designer. Eye masks and blackout curtains are non negotiable. Keep your bedtime routine consistent even when the world around you shifts your brain needs those predictable signals. If you wake up in the middle of the night, resist the siren call of your phone screen. Instead, try soft music, audiobooks with familiar voices, or white noise that masks the early morning lawn care symphony. Sometimes accepting that your sleep might look different in summer and planning for it works better than fighting it.
Your emotional landscape might start resembling a summer storm: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming. Small irritations feel enormous. You might find yourself tearing up over things that normally wouldn't faze you, or feeling emotionally flat when you expect to feel joy.
What might help: Start tracking your emotional weather patterns without trying to change them immediately. Jot down a few words each morning and evening about how you're feeling. Look for patterns over time maybe you consistently feel worse on particularly hot days, or better when you've had consistent sleep. When possible, reduce your exposure to situations that require intense masking or emotional labor. Ground yourself with sensory experiences that feel nurturing: the weight of a pet on your lap, the rhythm of brushing your hair, the satisfaction of organizing something small and manageable.
Summer heat can make eating feel like a chore. Foods that usually appeal to you might suddenly seem repulsive. The smell of cooking might trigger nausea. Your appetite might disappear entirely, or you might forget to eat because you're so overwhelmed by other sensations.
What might help: Lean into cold, simple foods that don't require much preparation or cleanup. Smoothies, fruit, cold soups, and room temperature rice become your allies. Set external reminders to eat pair meals with specific TV shows or podcasts so you have a non internal cue. Give yourself permission to eat smaller amounts more frequently if that feels more manageable. Your body needs fuel to cope with all the extra sensory processing it's doing.
Summer days can feel simultaneously endless and fleeting. You might lose track of time more easily, forget what you did earlier in the day, or feel like weeks have passed in a single afternoon. The disruption to your usual routines can make everything feel unmoored and confusing.
What might help: Make time visible through external cues. Apps like Tiimo can show your day in colored blocks or visual schedules that feel less overwhelming than traditional planners. Physical clocks placed strategically around your space can help anchor you. Create small daily rituals that serve as temporal landmarks lighting a candle at the same time each evening, or taking a specific photo each morning.
If you've made it this far and you're thinking "finally, someone gets it," trust that instinct. Reverse SAD has been the overlooked sibling in seasonal depression research for far too long, and neurodivergent experiences within that already limited understanding have been pushed even further to the margins.
Here's what you need to know: You're not being dramatic. You're not sensitive to heat in some way that needs fixing, and you're certainly not ungrateful for nice weather. Your nervous system is responding to real environmental changes in ways that are completely valid, even if they're different from how other people experience the season.
Sometimes the strategies above help, and sometimes you need additional support. If you're feeling overwhelmed, stuck, or disconnected for more than a few days, reaching out is always okay. You don't need to wait until things get worse to ask for care.
For many neurodivergent people, summer brings a mix of increased sensory load, disrupted routines, and pressure to socialize in ways that feel out of sync with how we function best. If this sounds familiar, you're not imagining it.
If you are experiencing thoughts of self harm or suicide, please seek immediate support. Tiimo is not a crisis service, but the following resources can help:
Reverse seasonal affective disorder (SAD) can hit especially hard for neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, or both. Here's how it can show up and what helps.
Picture this: Everyone around you is posting about beach days and barbecues, while you're hiding indoors with the curtains drawn, wondering why summer feels so overwhelming. If this sounds familiar, you're definitely not alone.
Most people know about seasonal affective disorder as a winter thing, where short days and gray skies can send some brains into a tailspin of lethargy and carb cravings. But here's the plot twist: for some of us, summer is the villain in this story.
Reverse SAD flips the script entirely, causing your mood and functioning to take a nosedive when the days get longer and the temperature climbs. While winter SAD whispers "sleep more, eat toast," summer SAD screams "everything is too much, too bright, too loud, and why can't you just sit still?" It's less common than its winter cousin, which means it's also less understood, and you might have spent years thinking you're just sensitive to heat while everyone else seems to thrive in the endless daylight.
If you're neurodivergent, whether you're ADHD, Autistic, AuDHD, or have another brain difference, summer can feel like sensory warfare, with your nervous system already working overtime to process a world that wasn't designed for you suddenly facing an onslaught of extra stimulation.
Those longer days mess with your carefully calibrated sleep schedule while the blazing sun feels like it's trying to burn through your retinas. Air conditioning units hum incessantly, lawnmowers roar to life at 7 AM, and neighbors decide it's the perfect time for loud gatherings that stretch late into the night. Then there are the social expectations, where suddenly everyone expects you to be "fun" and "outdoorsy" and "spontaneous," words that might make you want to hide under a weighted blanket until October.
The shift from spring to summer can feel jarring, like someone switched the settings on your world without asking, and for brains that thrive on routine and predictability, this seasonal transition can be genuinely disorienting. But here's what's important: reverse SAD isn't about being antisocial or ungrateful for nice weather, it's your nervous system responding to real changes in light, temperature, routine, and sensory input. Your brain is doing exactly what it's designed to do, just responding to summer differently than the majority of people around you.
Reverse SAD is like a shape-shifter, appearing differently for each person depending on how your brain processes sensory input, emotion, time, and social dynamics. What might feel like overwhelming heat sensitivity for one person could show up as sleep disruption for another, or emotional volatility for someone else entirely. These patterns aren't personal failings but rather your nervous system's authentic responses to environmental changes.
Some days, you might feel like you've been plugged into an electrical socket, with your whole system buzzing with restless energy, but not the good kind. You're exhausted but can't settle, your skin feels itchy from the inside, and even lying down feels impossible because your body seems to vibrate with tension.
What might help: Think of yourself as a phone that's been overcharged and needs to discharge some of that excess energy by creating deliberate calm pockets throughout your day. Dim the lights, switch your phone to grayscale, or find the lowest, most rumbling sounds you can (think thunderstorms or brown noise), while weighted blankets can work like a gentle full-body hug for your nervous system. Consider shifting toward low-dopamine routines that reduce stimulation rather than adding more excitement to your day. If you need to move, try repetitive motions that feel soothing like rocking in a chair, swinging on a swing set, or walking the same familiar route over and over.
The world suddenly feels like it's been turned up to eleven, where sunlight doesn't just shine but assaults, heat doesn't warm but suffocates, and every sound seems amplified, from the neighbor's leaf blower to your own breathing. Even textures that usually don't bother you might feel unbearable against your skin.
What might help: Create a sensory sanctuary by controlling your environment. Blackout curtains and eye masks block overwhelming light, while cooling sheets and breathable fabrics help regulate temperature. Noise-canceling headphones aren't rude, they're adaptive equipment. When everything feels too intense, cold showers can reset your system, and designating one room as your low-stimulation retreat gives you a place to recharge without guilt.
Those endless summer days can wreak absolute havoc on your sleep. Your brain, still expecting darkness to signal bedtime, gets confused by light streaming through windows at 9 PM. Heat makes your body work harder to cool down. You finally drift off only to wake up multiple times, or pop awake at 5 AM when the sun starts its daily assault.
What might help: Become a sleep environment designer. Eye masks and blackout curtains are non negotiable. Keep your bedtime routine consistent even when the world around you shifts your brain needs those predictable signals. If you wake up in the middle of the night, resist the siren call of your phone screen. Instead, try soft music, audiobooks with familiar voices, or white noise that masks the early morning lawn care symphony. Sometimes accepting that your sleep might look different in summer and planning for it works better than fighting it.
Your emotional landscape might start resembling a summer storm: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming. Small irritations feel enormous. You might find yourself tearing up over things that normally wouldn't faze you, or feeling emotionally flat when you expect to feel joy.
What might help: Start tracking your emotional weather patterns without trying to change them immediately. Jot down a few words each morning and evening about how you're feeling. Look for patterns over time maybe you consistently feel worse on particularly hot days, or better when you've had consistent sleep. When possible, reduce your exposure to situations that require intense masking or emotional labor. Ground yourself with sensory experiences that feel nurturing: the weight of a pet on your lap, the rhythm of brushing your hair, the satisfaction of organizing something small and manageable.
Summer heat can make eating feel like a chore. Foods that usually appeal to you might suddenly seem repulsive. The smell of cooking might trigger nausea. Your appetite might disappear entirely, or you might forget to eat because you're so overwhelmed by other sensations.
What might help: Lean into cold, simple foods that don't require much preparation or cleanup. Smoothies, fruit, cold soups, and room temperature rice become your allies. Set external reminders to eat pair meals with specific TV shows or podcasts so you have a non internal cue. Give yourself permission to eat smaller amounts more frequently if that feels more manageable. Your body needs fuel to cope with all the extra sensory processing it's doing.
Summer days can feel simultaneously endless and fleeting. You might lose track of time more easily, forget what you did earlier in the day, or feel like weeks have passed in a single afternoon. The disruption to your usual routines can make everything feel unmoored and confusing.
What might help: Make time visible through external cues. Apps like Tiimo can show your day in colored blocks or visual schedules that feel less overwhelming than traditional planners. Physical clocks placed strategically around your space can help anchor you. Create small daily rituals that serve as temporal landmarks lighting a candle at the same time each evening, or taking a specific photo each morning.
If you've made it this far and you're thinking "finally, someone gets it," trust that instinct. Reverse SAD has been the overlooked sibling in seasonal depression research for far too long, and neurodivergent experiences within that already limited understanding have been pushed even further to the margins.
Here's what you need to know: You're not being dramatic. You're not sensitive to heat in some way that needs fixing, and you're certainly not ungrateful for nice weather. Your nervous system is responding to real environmental changes in ways that are completely valid, even if they're different from how other people experience the season.
Sometimes the strategies above help, and sometimes you need additional support. If you're feeling overwhelmed, stuck, or disconnected for more than a few days, reaching out is always okay. You don't need to wait until things get worse to ask for care.
For many neurodivergent people, summer brings a mix of increased sensory load, disrupted routines, and pressure to socialize in ways that feel out of sync with how we function best. If this sounds familiar, you're not imagining it.
If you are experiencing thoughts of self harm or suicide, please seek immediate support. Tiimo is not a crisis service, but the following resources can help:
A practical, research-backed guide to what ADHD is, how it affects focus, emotion, and time, why diagnosis is often delayed, and what real support can look like.
Claims of overdiagnosis ignore what really matters: too many neurodivergent people still face stigma, long waits, and little support.
Imposter syndrome and rejection sensitivity are part of ADHD for a lot of us. Here’s how I experience them, what helped, and what I want you to know.
