The sun has well and truely come back in Antarctica, It is magnificently light at 4am and I am not sure when it gets dark or if it gets dark.  Getting up at 4 every morning, means I am generally ready for bed at about 8pm and I miss sunset.  I am so relieved to see the sun, humans are creatures of the sun.  Living in near total darkness wreaked me, it was horrible.  One Antarctic blogger, Gemma Tarlach describes Antarctic in winter as a preview of death!!!  Which is a little dramatic, but she goes on to explain that it is the sense of clarity that you find as a person when you are surrounded by such isolation, darkness and stillness.  You stare into the landscape and it stares back at you impassively, your own personal story and uniqueness are revealed as minuscule in the scheme of the Universe.  It is confronting and challenges you to look deep inside yourself and it is not just the psychological challenges that winter brings there is a physiological challenge that winter provides.

The physical changes that occur over winter have been studied by organisations like NASA to try and identify issues for deep space travel and there is a defined set of symptoms that only seem to occur in such extreme isolation.  Winter-over syndrome, Polar madness or T3 polar syndrome are all names for a cluster of symptoms  that have been observed in people who winter in Antarctica.  Insomnia, depression, irritability, social withdrawal, inability to concentrate on cognitive tasks and the dreaded Antarctic stare… that vacant look that people get when they appear to be intently watching a brick wall, its actually a medical thing!!

I was on the look out for the major symptoms, but it was the little symptoms that snuck under my radar.  Even though I am in one of the most beautiful places on earth, my mind went numb.  I frequently found myself stuck for words, monosyllable responses at the ready… or not.  I could stare into the distance for hours or minutes, thinking quite honestly of nothing, but when I tried to meditate I couldn’t concentrate.  I frequently found myself standing in one place, thinking “why am I here.”  I really did feel amazingly dumb, it is both frustrating and annoying, if you can remember why you are annoyed!!!

NASA and the British Antarctic Survey have identified a few factors that may play a part in causing ‘polar dumb syndrome’ and I like to call it.  The long hours of darkness followed quickly by long hours of sunlight disrupt your circadian rhythm.  Constant exposure to the cold and lack of sunlight result in vitamin D deficiency and polar T3 syndrome, a type of thyroid imbalance.  The stress of living, working and socialising with the same small groups of people with minimal outside influence can also cause increased cortisol levels and symptoms of chronic stress.  They think it is reversible and with the return of the sun we are slowly getting the power of speech back there are not so many lunchtime conversations involving the phrase “… whats that word”.

Personally I think the return of animal life to the station has also been responsible for a big improvement in my mood.  In winter the landscape does seem impassive but with the return of life the landscape has become more interactive.  You get a response. A seal pup rolling around on the ice annoying its mother.  A snow petrel playing chicken with the wind turbine.  Squa’s hanging around watching everything intently like a fat kid at a buffet.  Penguins stealing rocks of each other and building nests.  Life has become interactive and full colour again.  That is not to say I haven’t had some dumb moments, the brain hasn’t quite kicked into full gear yet.  Yesterday I managed to reverse at full speed on a quad bike, which was a rather exciting ride for about 3 secs.  Apparently the throttle is the right height to connect with my camera bag if I lean forward… lesson learnt and hopefully no-one was watching!!!