Déjà vu


Walking with Jesus / Saturday, January 26th, 2013

I am in the middle of a story about my experience with seasonal depression. Begin at the beginning right here.

*****

Spring came, and I felt fine. Life moved on. Life was good. But I encountered some really low times, and they got worse. Seemed like each January I bottomed out, though there was always a legitimate “reason”—either I was pregnant (hence emotional), or I’d just had a baby (hence fatigued), or we were facing some difficult things at work or church…

One evening in January 2009, I sat writing in my journal and got a strong sense of déjà vu. I think I’ve written this before… I paged back, and back, and back–and found I had written some nearly identical entries exactly one year before: January 2008. For the first time, I asked myself Could this be seasonal depression?

I took stock and realized—Um. This year there is absolutely nothing “wrong” with my life. We’re healthy. I’m not pregnant. My baby is two years old. We have no major stresses. But I am writing blackness, just like last year.

Black is really the word, though I want to be sensitive to anyone who considers it racially loaded. I do not; and I can’t find another word that comes close.

Usually in the fall, I could feel a frightening slide into frustration and futility. Several years in a row, I hit extremely low points right at Christmas. (Uh-huh. There’s a reason I’d skip the month of December if I could… Association is a powerful deterrent.) January and February would be dark, and in March I’d suddenly feel like I was waking up. The robins would return. Spring would scent the air. I’d think Where have I been, these last three months?

Well, I’d been immersed in every dark emotion at once… fear, anger, hatred, despair. I cried. I slept. I prayed to die. I also experienced physical symptoms, though I didn’t know why. I became weak, shaky, exhausted. I dropped things a lot—I mean physical things.

Once I took part in a small cooking demonstration for my church ladies. Doing my show there in front of everyone, I dropped a sharp knife right down by my feet. Embarrassed, I picked it up… only to immediately drop it again. They began chuckling at me, not unkindly. Did she just drop that again? And I dropped it the third time. Numb with shame and panic, I furtively retrieved it, set it safely on the countertop. What is happening to me?

I walked so close to the limit of what I could handle. I learned to spend time in the evenings doing nothing, just sitting. My small son Aarick invented a new imaginary friend, with an imaginary mother whom he named Always-Tired.

I was afraid to go out with people, especially crowds. I felt I was wearing my exhaustion like a garment; like people would take one look at me and say Oh my word, honey! What’s wrong?!

Once we discovered that my symptoms were seasonally affected, we took some steps to cope. If you’re dealing exclusively with SAD, they are excellent helps:

1. A natural-spectrum lamp

  • Sometimes it’s called a “happy light” or a “sun lamp.” You can order one here, instructions included. The bulb is made to produce additional rays, simulating the sun’s spectrum of natural light. Basically you sit with your lamp for 20-30 minutes a day, reading or working on a project. When I ordered this one and began using it, I could tell a measurable difference within half a week.

2. Supplements

  • Vitamin D is what I took, in large doses. Ask a doctor if you are unsure how much is healthy. These capsules pack an astonishing 1250% daily value.
  • Others have recommended St. John’s Wort, SAM-e, and/or 5-HTP. I have not tried these myself, but have heard good things of each. (Caution is needed when combining them with some types of medication.)

3. Getting outside whenever possible

  • You may have to force yourself to do so, but the fresh air, light, and exercise will prove themselves invaluable.

Using these helps, I felt strengthened and fortified. Though expecting our third child, I had one whole winter of equilibrium (minus a February week of darkness). I was so relieved. This is the answer. I can beat it. But heading into winter two years ago, I made some big mistakes…

5 Replies to “Déjà vu”

  1. and you keep stopping at all the wrong spots. . . 🙂
    I’ve been struggling with some SAD and probably mild PPD. I’m thankful it’s mild this time! I have some dark months I don’t want to remember. . .
    Thank you for sharing!!

  2. Shari, I bless you for venturing out and allowing us to see a piece of your life. Sharing so deeply of one’s struggle makes for a vulnerability that is seldom surpassed. There is the possibility of being misunderstood or judged. Depression is not a new word for me. I have family members that struggle with it. However, as one for whom the glass is always half full, I still have a hard time ‘getting’ people that see the ‘black.’ (And, no, the idea of a racial offense never entered my mind.) I see your sharing your story as have two purposes: to encourage those that see ‘black’ and for informing those of us that cannot understand those that see ‘black.’ And again, I bless you for exposing your heart in such an honest way.

  3. Tonight I read your last three posts in a row. I wonder if you realize how powerful your honesty and story telling ability is. I don’t know if you know it or not, but you could write a book worth buying. I’m looking forward to hearing more of your story.

  4. I have to agree with Rose Mary’s comment (above). I don’t want to get side-tracked with your writing ability, but it really is that good – it’s like as hard as this topic is to read about, I find myself growling at the end of a post because I want to keep on reading. Thanks again for being brave enough to share your story with us, especially those of us whom you don’t know. ♥

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