Image by Michael H. Lemmer
Fie to you, February! As a seasoned combatant with the Winter Blues (a.k.a. “Seasonal Affective Disorder” – was ever a title so clearly selected for its acronym?) – I’m used to woeful Octobers, but normally I’m really waking up at this time of year. Unfortunately, the past two weeks here in central Scotland have been grey and gloomy, and I’m still sitting about bearing more resemblance to a pot of primordial ooze than to a perky and productive member of the human species.
I find it increasingly jarring that this annual affliction is referred to as “Blues” or SAD, because it doesn’t primarily make me sad or depressed: instead, it causes a huge seasonal hike in my underlying anxiety level. I think we all have a certain baseline of unconscious anxiety bubbling away, that spikes up into conscious anxiety from time to time as worrying things happen. For me, SAD raises that baseline so that I begin to experience near-continual conscious anxiety in a totally irrational way – worrying about things that haven’t happened (and probably won’t), or about trivial things I wouldn’t normally give a second thought to.
If this is typical of SAD sufferers, then it’s not surprising that we end up feeling really worn out. Perpetual anxiety is like forgetting to turn off your car’s parking lights: it’s a state of constant, low-level energy drain, even when you’re not doing anything or going anywhere. (And, just to labour the metaphor, a state that, uncorrected, could quite plausibly lead to the dead battery of depression).
Anyway, I associate SAD with yellow rather than blue, not because of any fancy literary allusion or synaesthetic parallel with anxiety, but because its adversary, in my own case, is a plant with pretty yellow flowers.
Moderate to severe SAD is generally treated with a winter-long course of anti-depressants, usually an SSRI such as Prozac. However, based on my previous experience with SSRIs as a depression treatment, I was reluctant to go down that route: I really dislike the way SSRI drugs seem to numb me, shutting all my emotions away behind some internal cotton-woolly barrier, and thereby preventing me from actually dealing with whatever it is that’s causing the problem.[1]
The herbal remedy St John’s Wort is an officially prescribed treatment for depression in Germany, and NHS doctors in the UK are increasingly suggesting it (in lieu of conventional anti-depressants) as a treatment for the symptoms of SAD. (I know one GP who actually takes it himself for this). In desperation at my seasonally-slumping mood and productivity, I somewhat reluctantly decided to try it. To my surprise, I found that unlike the broad-brush SSRIs, the SJW had a tightly-focussed effect: it drastically tuned down my anxiety level, but didn’t appear to alter anything else[2].
The SJW doesn’t entirely fix the “slumpiness” I experience at this time of year, but it’s certainly helped me to stop spinning my wheels on worrying and put that saved energy into something useful. I’m always ambivalent about taking psychoactive medications, because of a background concern that I might be drowning out some psychological issue I actually need to deal with. In the case of SAD, however, it seems pretty clear-cut that my irrational anxiety, so perfectly correlated with the seasons, with the length and brightness of the days, is both externally-triggered and more physiological than psychological. If a little yellow pill can help to keep it from chewing up four or five months of my life every year, I’m ok with that.[3]
[1] In my own case, there always seems to be a clear psychological reason (at least retrospectively) for any given bout of depression – and yes, I know this is not true for all depressive experiences, and how can I be sure I’m not just rationalising a chemical imbalance after the fact?, etc etc.
[2] Anecdotal evidence like this is hardly scientific, of course, and I can’t be sure it isn’t a placebo effect – but actually I don’t much care if it is only placebo, since it seems to work….
[3] If you’re thinking of trying SJW, be aware that it can have side effects and in particular it can interfere with other prescribed medications; although it’s available over-the-counter, do talk to your doctor or pharmacist before deciding to take it.
Deciding on the fate of a very poorly cat makes me anxious. Contrary to wisdoms borne of experience in many other areas of life, no matter how many times we’ve been through this with countless pets, it never gets any easier! Perversely, this seems to have little bearing on Kona’s post above, but, it has to be said, even more perversely, if the sun were shining, I’m certain there’d be less anxiety. So does sunlight (and concomitantly a lack of it) have an effect on our mood that is primordial, or is there some chemical reaction in the brain?
You are right to state what you have in footnote No.3. In addition, I am advised by my house medic (my wife) that, for those going into hospital there may be ‘compatibility’ issues between SJW and certain anaesthetics. Another trick, which has proved successful for someone in this household is a 250 Watt infra-red light bulb in the bathroom. So when you get out of the shower in the morning you shuffle the bath mat over until you’re under the lamp and feel the glow and warmth. She swears by the effects. It may not be very green (although we do make up for it by having energy efficient bulbs everywhere else in the house), but it is non-chemical!
I’m seriously concerned about some SSRI’s. While Prozac has the lowest incidence of SSRI cessation syndrome, a member of my family had a terrible, near-suicidal reaction to coming off paroxetine (Seroxat), prescribed for panic attacks. It took a couple of years to stabilise. I think I’d rather accept the old poets’ diagnosis of ‘melancholia’ (= dark humor) and get some downer poems out of the condition.
How admirably pragmatic.
Melancholy is quite a pleasant state, isn’t it? I too find it productive – where depression definitely isn’t. In terms of one’s emotions, melancholy feels like an alive state where depression feels like a dead one, perhaps…
I can relate to:
woeful Octobers
huge seasonal hike in my underlying anxiety level
SSRIs…I was reluctant to go down that route
SJW had a tightly-focussed effect
can interfere with other prescribed medications
correlated with the seasons, with the length and brightness of the days
more physiological than psychological
Yes. I’ve been there, done that, had the severe physical illness as a result of (my doctor!) underestimating SJW, read the research, and written the blog while recovering.
I can roughly answer the surprisingly related questions about sunlight, chemical cause of so-called SAD and why SJW is contraindicated, using a lay person’s understanding of molecular processes. But having watched people’s eyes glaze over during conversations I have learned not to supply the answers immediately.
I now do without any herbal Prozac or SSRIs and have turned in to an old and slow-writing poet.
I’m a great fan of porridge. Three cheers for porridge! Especially Jumbo oats (organic).
Snap!
I eat a large vat of it every lunchtime.
Drags excess cholesterol from the blood, so my life-long Doctor uncle used to claim – and he climbed mountains with me into his 80′s.
Light therapy is a well recognised treatment for SAD. You can get very broad spectrum fluorescent lights that mimic the spectrum of sunlight and make a clinically significant difference. I suspect how long you need to spend under the light depends on the severity of your condition.
I get SAD, even in Melbourne, in those winters when it’s very grey and there’s not a lot of sunlight. It interests me that our western tradition is to deny the link between our physical environment and our minds. And even to deny the link between our body and our minds. The feedback cycle is so strong, yet we prefer to pretend we have total psychological control.
Yesterday we finally struck gold in the form of an allergist who recognises that our 7 year old has food intolerances, and is committed to helping us explore them to find out what is giving her trouble. He said that kids with untreated food intolerances tended to be highly anxious. Bells ringing all over this house! He said it tied in with experiments in mice, where if you introduced bacteria into their systems, they got anxious. No other change in conditions. Stress the immune system – stress the mind. And, inevitably, vice versa. Revelatory, yet so obvious!
Sorry, this has turned into an essay.
Hi Linda! Yep, I have a SAD lamp here above my desk, and a dawn clock as well for those dark winter mornings (these are great if you find waking up like swimming through treacle, as I often do).
On a less technological front, I find porridge helpful (maybe because it contains tryptophan, a serotonin precursor?), and outdoor exercise in the morning (usually running) seems to make a noticeable difference too.
Dear Kona
I have had a very parallel experiences with anxiety/depression/antidepressants/St John’s Wort. I was amazed by the effectiveness of the St John’s Wort – I also wondered about the placebo effect, but, whatever works! It really helped me in the UK with those cold grey days. Only downside is that I got a permenant dermatitis on my shoulder when exposed to too much sun – this is a side-effect that is common to both St John’s Wort and antidepressents, apparently. So, be careful when sunshine returns (or if you ever head back to OZ for a holiday!)