October Slide — BLOG — Cecily Longo, LMFT

I work with many clients navigating chronic health conditions, persistent pain, and long-term illnesses. A non-seasonal but crucial part of this work is helping people manage individualized, holistic self care plans, medical gaslighting, and the grief that comes with adapting to a body and life that no longer behave the way they used to (more on this in a future post).

However, as we approach this time of year, many notice an uptick in both physical and emotional symptoms—a pattern that can make winter feel like survival mode.

So I put together a quick guide that I think you’ll want to read to the end—for a coping skill that banks more on creativity than perfection, offering validation, humor, and practical tools to help you move through the colder months with a little more grace (and maybe a laugh).

The October Slide Isn’t Official, But It’s Efficient

The October Slide isn’t an official diagnosis, but it’s certainly an efficient one—so efficient it probably deserves its own billing code. If you live with chronic pain, illness, or fatigue, you can feel the descent before the leaves even hit the ground.

It’s that quiet seasonal shift when your energy, mood, and body all start negotiating new terms—and somehow, the negotiations always end with less.

The Science of the Slide

Research has been confirming what chronic-pain communities have long known: weather and light changes alter the body.

The BMJ Open study Cloudy with a Chance of Pain (2019) tracked over 13,000 people with chronic pain and found that higher humidity, lower barometric pressure, and stronger winds predicted worse pain—especially in autumn and winter.
Fibromyalgia data show a similar trend: symptoms spike in late fall and early winter when sunlight and temperature drop.
Large mood studies such as RADAR-MDD (Remote Assessment of Disease and Relapse—Major Depressive Disorder) reveal that reduced daylight correlates with lower physical activity, circadian disruption, and increased depressive symptoms.
Meanwhile, serotonin, melatonin, and vitamin D all shift with shorter days, altering mood, sleep, and pain sensitivity.

So when your body acts like a storm system—it’s because, biochemically, it is.

Seasonal Affective Disorder and the October Slide

Classic Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) refers to recurrent depressive episodes that begin in late autumn or winter and remit in spring. Shorter daylight hours and reduced sunlight are linked to serotonin and circadian rhythm changes (NIMH, 2025).
The October Slide, while not identical, may overlap—it reflects a broader seasonal pattern where physical and emotional symptoms worsen in people with chronic conditions, even if they don’t meet diagnostic criteria for SAD.

In other words, not every slide is depression, but the same environmental shifts can still rattle the nervous system.

When the Body Feels Unsafe (Even When You’re Not)

Some schools of pain management—which can apply to nearly any chronic health condition—use the framework of DIMS and SIMS, meaning Danger-in-Me and Safety-in-Me. These channels help explain how physical and emotional pain can loop together.

When your system detects danger-in-me cues (threatening thoughts, sensations, or stressors), it heightens tension and amplifies pain. Safety-in-me cues—connection, curiosity, calm—signal the body that it can rest and repair.

Identifying the thoughts, beliefs, events, sensations, emotions, and people that exist within each channel can help you recognize where you are and what you can reasonably shift, even if it’s just a micro-shift, when you’d like to reset your state.

Our biology runs on these two channels:

Safety-in-me — curiosity, rest, digestion, connection.
Danger-in-me — vigilance, tension, pain amplification, catastrophic thinking.

When light fades and pressure drops, the body can quietly flip into danger mode. The cues are subtle—tight muscles, irritability, heart palpitations, exhaustion—and the mind scrambles to make sense of them:
“Something’s really wrong with me.”

That’s how the loop begins: body alarm → scary thought → adrenaline → more pain → more fear. You’re not broken; you’re just caught in feedback.

The Summer Paradox

Not everyone crashes in fall. Some people melt down in summer. There’s even a DSM-5 subtype called Reverse (Summer) Seasonal Affective Disorder, marked by agitation, anxiety, and insomnia.

Too much light suppresses melatonin; heat raises cortisol; social pressure to be “fun” overwhelms the sensory system. Different bodies sync with different seasons. Some wilt in darkness, others fry in brightness. The goal isn’t to fear the season—it’s to know your ecosystem.

Interrupting the Catastrophic Loop

You can’t outthink a nervous system in danger mode—you have to talk to it through the body.

1. EFT Tapping or Acupressure
Tap or gently hold points on the side of the hand, temples, or collarbone while naming the truth:

“Even though I feel awful and scared this will never end, I’m open to the idea that I’m safe right now.”
You’re not forcing positivity—you’re retraining your internal alarm system.

2. Opposite Action (DBT) When your body screams “hide,” do something small but opposite: open the blinds, step outside for a minute, or text someone safe. Micro-actions reintroduce agency.

3. Orient for Safety
Look around. Find one color, one sound, and one texture that feel neutral or pleasant. Show your vagus nerve that danger has passed.

4. Micro-Connection Over Isolation
You don’t need a deep conversation—just connection. Send a meme, reply with an emoji, or exchange a quick spark of human energy.

5. Redefine Productivity
Nature slows down for a reason. Rest isn’t laziness; it’s seasonal intelligence.

6. Organize DIMS and SIMS
Use the DIMS/SIMS framework (Danger in Me vs. Safety in Me) to explore what’s fueling your current state. List the thoughts, sensations, people, and environments that amplify danger signals—and those that bring calm or safety. If DIMS outweigh SIMS, choose one thing you can shift, even slightly, to restore balance.

Then, implement a CBT-style reframe. Notice when your thoughts sound catastrophic, and see where you can soften them:

Catastrophic thought: “This flare means I’m back to square one.”
Reframe: “This flare means my body’s asking for rest—it’s information, not failure.”

7. Practice Acceptance (Which Doesn’t Mean You Like It)
Acceptance isn’t surrender; it’s acknowledging what’s happening so you can respond skillfully. If you’re in a pain flare today, ask:

“What can I do to take care of this body right now?”
Through this practice, you learn to trust your body and your instincts—they’re not the enemy, they’re your feedback system.

8. Explore What Your Condition Invites You to Notice
Living with chronic illness, pain, or any ongoing condition often invites reflection. Ask yourself:

“What has this condition invited me to look at in my life?” “What changes have I made that I might never have made otherwise—and how might they be quietly supporting me?”
Your body may be communicating in a language of limits, but sometimes those limits point you toward meaning, clarity, or authenticity you might have missed before.

When the System Doesn’t Believe the Body

Another layer to the October Slide—and to chronic illness year-round—is medical gaslighting: being told your symptoms aren’t real because they don’t fit a diagnostic script. You describe pain or fatigue, and someone says, “Your labs are normal.” The dismissal itself becomes trauma.

The nervous system learns to anticipate disbelief. You start doubting sensations that were always real.

How to Stay Grounded When Dismissed

Ground before and after appointments.
Slow breathing or gentle tapping can help shift your body from danger-in-me to safety-in-me.

Bring data, not defense.
Notes, photos, and symptom logs move the conversation from “Is it real?” to “Here’s the pattern.” Advocate, advocate, advocate. Write things down, rehearse what you want to say, and—if it feels right—bring someone with you for support.

Find validating spaces. Online and peer communities for chronic illness, dysautonomia, iatrogenic injury, Ehlers-Danlos, autoimmune disorders, fibromyalgia, and related conditions offer recognition, solidarity, and access to evolving science.

Remember that AI and patient-led research are changing the landscape.
New technologies are beginning to identify connections traditional medicine has overlooked. The field is evolving—and we can hang in there while the science catches up.

Avoid repeat invalidation.
You can’t make a provider believe you who’s invested in disbelief. Save your energy for those who listen.

Honor your body’s truth.
Your sensations don’t need outside validation to be real. Communicate what you need, and pay attention to who meets that with respect.

Every time you meet disbelief with self-trust, you reclaim a little more authority over your biology.

When None of That S**t Works

Some days your body will be louder than your coping menu. That’s okay. The goal isn’t to conquer symptoms—it’s to not make them worse.
Swear, cry, eat soup, go horizontal. Regulation sometimes looks like surrender with snacks.

Why I’m Leaving You With a Jingle Instead of a Worksheet

Because humor and creativity are clinical interventions. Laughter releases tension; creative play reactivates the parts of the brain that burnout shuts down. When you rhyme, doodle, or make something absurd, you remind your nervous system that it can still respond to life, not just endure it.

So here’s my ridiculous suggestion: When your body or mood slides, throw it a curveball. Write a bad poem. Sing to your cat. Record your own “Override the October Slide” remix.

🎤 Override the October Slide (Mini Interlude)

So,
You wanna override the October Slide?
Feelin’ like trash, got no place to hide?
Here’s a seasonal guide when your system’s fried—
You don’t have to stay in bed all day inside.

Ten-minute walk, take it in stride,
Regulate your breath, don’t let it collide.
Tap that EFT, let the tension subside,
Body say “nope,” but the soul still tried—

Healing doesn’t always look serious. Sometimes it looks like laughter in the middle of the storm—and that counts as regulation too.

Final Reframe

The October Slide isn’t a moral failure—it’s feedback. Seasonal meltdowns aren’t character flaws—they’re body weather.

Your job isn’t to stay perfectly regulated. It’s to notice when you’ve drifted into danger mode and gently steer back toward safety. Some days that’s tapping, some days it’s tears, some days it’s saying “f-it” and trying again tomorrow.

That’s not giving up. That’s listening.

If You’re Living It, You’re Not Alone

While this post speaks broadly about chronic health conditions, here are just a few examples: POTS, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), fibromyalgia, autoimmune diseases, chronic fatigue syndrome, rheumatoid and osteoarthritis, neurological conditions like Parkinson’s, cancer, and many others. (This list is not exhaustive.)

Whatever your diagnosis—or even if you don’t have one—you deserve understanding, validation, and support that honors both body and mind.

Join the Conversation

If something here resonated, or you have your own tools for managing symptoms and seasonal shifts, drop a note in the comments—your insight could help someone else feel less alone.

And if you’re interested in individual sessions or joining a support group, you can reach me through my website: [insert link].

Disclaimer

Please note: I am a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in the state of California, but I am not a medical doctor or prescriber. This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek guidance from a qualified healthcare provider with any questions you may have regarding your health or medical condition.

Sources & Further Reading

Dixon W.G. et al. (2019). Cloudy with a Chance of Pain. BMJ Open, 9(3), e030451.
Martínez-Lavin M. et al. (2022). Seasonal variation in fibromyalgia symptom severity. J Rheumatol, 49(5), 520-528.
McAlindon T.E. et al. (2014). Meteorological influences on knee osteoarthritis pain and function. Arthritis Care & Research, 66(2), 186-193.
Timmermans E.J. et al. (2010). Weather conditions and daily pain in rheumatoid arthritis. Pain, 151(2), 420-425.
O’Brien J. & Jones M. (2017). Seasonality in chronic pain: A systematic review. Pain Practice, 17(6), 785-795.
RADAR-CNS Consortium (2024). Deciphering seasonal variations in major depressive disorder using longitudinal mobile health data. medRxiv preprint.
National Institute of Mental Health (2025). Seasonal Affective Disorder. Retrieved from nimh.nih.gov
Lambert G.W. et al. (2002). Effect of sunlight and season on serotonin turnover in the brain. Lancet, 360(9348), 1840-1842.
O’Brien J. et al. (2025). Evaluation of seasonal variations in mood in a population-based study. BMC Psychiatry, 25, 69-16.