I have been dealing with depression for the past 17 years, and for me it is seasonal in nature; a severe form of the Winter Blues. I wanted to share my journey through depression and back to life. Here's my story:

My family moved from Southern California to Central Wisconsin in 1990 (long story). Over all it was a positive move for us, and we were pretty happy to be here.

In November of that first year, I started having difficulties sleeping, had gained weight, began having trouble coping, concentrating and making decisions. Things started going all wrong: my mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer (we were living with them), I was diagnosed with a cataract in one eye (at the age of 37!), and my sister was having marital problems. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed one day, sobbing because I couldn't decide whether to sort the dirty laundry or fold the clean laundry first.

In January, we had been trying to buy a house, and the day before closing, my husband Mark lost his job, and the house purchase fell through. The sellers sued us for our earnest money (we stupidly put down a large amount), and we had to hire an attorney to fight it.

I remember sitting in the family room for two days straight, not being able to move or talk. I felt like I was moving through cold molasses, and couldn't think or respond to anyone. One day my father-in-law took us to Green Bay to a camping show. On the way there, the weak January sun was beating down on me through the car window. I remember my mood lifting slightly, but of course, I didn't trust it. Nothing was good. Nothing was right. Everything in the world was terrible, including me.

Well-meaning people kept telling me to count my blessings; I had a wonderful husband, a beautiful baby girl, and had so much to live for. I didn't see it.

Things got worse and worse, until April 1991, when our cat Somer died in my arms; and my 21-month-old daughter was injured and stopped walking (a green-stick break, and she was fine).

I found myself taking long walks in thunder storms, hoping to get hit by lightning; or walking next to the lake, hoping I'd fall in, hit my head and drown.

One day in April while Mark was at work (new job) and my in-laws were away, I decided that the thing to do was to go back to California, and I began making preparations to do so.

By the time Mark got home, I realized that there was something terribly wrong and told him what I was doing.

Thank goodness Mark took action. He didn't really know what to do, but had just picked up a brochure on depression at his doctor's office, so he called our county mental health agency, and got me an appointment.

I met with my counselor Harry within a few days, and remember pouring out my whole story. He said I had Clinical Depression and to come back for more counseling.

I remember at one point, Harry was ending our session, and I panicked, because I didn't feel that he really got the full impact of what was going on. I burst out and told him about those two dreadful days in January when I was unable to speak. Harry stopped for a minute, and asked me more about that. Then he recommended I see a psychiatrist for an evaluation.

The psychiatrist put me on Prozac towards the end of April. Within a couple of weeks, I was feeling so much better.

I stayed in counseling for a while, and stayed on Prozac for about a year, then weaned myself off.

I decided to change my life. I wanted to go back to college and become a counselor. I enrolled at the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh in the Fall of 1993, having a little over a year of courses I needed to finish my BA degree.

In November 1993, I began experiencing depression again.

This time, I knew what it was, and went to the doctor for more Prozac.

This time Prozac didn't work.

I wrote in my journal (I was reading Dante's Inferno for class), "Spent the day in Hell."

By the end of the school year, I felt better, and was excited that I had been admitted to graduate school in Counselor Education for Fall 1994 (before I was actually done with my undergrad degree!). I started school that September with a lot of high hopes.

Around April 1995, I read a little article in The Reader's Digest about Seasonal Affective Disorder. Everything it said in the article sounded like me! I called my psychiatrist and asked him about S.A.D. He said he wasn't really familiar with it, but thought he remembered seeing an article in one of his journals about it, and would get me a copy.

When I got the article, it talked about Light therapy. Light boxes were hard to come by then, and were very expensive. I was desperate to try something. I knew I couldn't live through another winter.

The article my doctor gave me referenced a company in Ohio that sold light boxes, and I called them. The owner of the company, Jed, was a life saver...literally. I was broke, and couldn't afford the $350.00 the light box cost. I told Jed that I would send them $25.00 a month for a box, and when it was paid off, would they please send me the light box. He said, "Send in your order and your first payment, and we'll work something out."

He sent me the box immediately.

Light Therapy changed my life.

During grad school I decided to learn all I could about S.A.D. I did research into it, and found out that Dr. Norman Rosenthal at the National Institute of Mental Health had been researching S.A.D. for many years, and had done a number of studies on light therapy. I also learned that many mental health professionals didn't know about it, or didn't believe in it.

Dr. Rosenthal's book Winter Blues is a well-written compilation of his research and findings, and I recommend it strongly to anyone who thinks they might have S.A.D.

S.A.D. is more than just feeling a bit down in the winter. It is more than just "cabin fever." It is the result of a physiological process in the brain that causes a drop in the "feel-good" brain chemicals caused by a lack of light. Replacing the light in the winter months (I start using my light in late August) through using special light (NOT a sun lamp!) counteracts this process, and helps to stabilize the brain chemistry.

Light Therapy is a miracle for those of us who have S.A.D.

Unfortunately, many mental health professionals continue to be uneducated about it, and don't understand it, so they continue throwing medications and therapy at people for whom light would work.

A caveat: Light therapy does NOT work for everyone! For some people medication is absolutely necessary.

But if you are one of those whose depression lifts on sunny days, or you feel so much better in the spring and summer than in the winter, then S.A.D. is something to consider. Talk to your doctor or therapist. If they don't believe in it, or don't know about it, find someone who does.

S.A.D. is a diagnosis that is included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders that all people who treat mental illness should be familiar with. Here's a link to Dr. Rosenthal's site:
view link

I would welcome messages from any who are interested in discussing S.A.D. more.