SAD or just sad?

Like millions of people all over the northern hemisphere, I'm enduring the bitterness and bleakness of the post holiday season with my very own case of seasonal affective disorder. It sucks. But I don't think that's the whole explanation either. The fact is, I've been on anti-depressants for at least two and a half years. Which means it wasn't winter when I first diagnosed with depression. About a year ago, both life and work were so stressful, that I went for weeks without really sleeping. A racing mind and a bad case of insomnia had arrived to make things worse.

After a visit to my family doctor and the addition of Ambien to my nightly bedtime routine, I'm now well rested and my stress level stays pretty low. It's amazing what a change of attitude you can have when you catch some quality z's.

As you may expect from a blended family of six, I lead a busy life. If there's ever a day on the calendar that's open, my mind begins to weigh and measure all the possible things I could fill it with. On paper, I lead an amazing life. I go to church regularly, I volunteer with Girl Scouts, I do the work I love, I read plenty of non-fiction books, I have an amazing fiancee, two beautiful children and a ton of friends. What more could a girl want?

Really... so what's wrong with me? What possible reason do I have to feel as sad and disconnected to people as I do?

For the record, I have an incredible family. Since I was a child, we've gathered every Sunday afternoon and major holidays at grandma's house to enjoy each other's company and let the kids be kids. I believe this is the foundation of what has made me who I am. Each time in my life, when I've lived too far away to make this weekly commute, I've felt... well, as bad as I do right now I guess. Nothing made me happier than being able to enjoy, play and laugh with my family.

Thank God, great-grandma's still with us, and this weekly ritual is still observed. So why don't I feel as happy now?

I think the answer is found within the silence... within the days between the Sunday's. As adults, there are so many things we can't and shouldn't say to each other. The icky parts of life contaminate what should be joyous moments. Once our spirits have been touched by the ickyness, we carry it around with us for months and not realize what it is. It feels impossible to shake that dark cloud that hovers above our hearts and heads. Those around us know something is wrong, but when they ask, we try to protect them from being contaminated. So we don't share. We hold it inside and let the ickyness grow.

Whatever you give your energy to will grow. If you think you're being excluded from social outings with friends, then you will be. You probably were before, but you just didn't care to notice. If you think your boss is over-critical and over-bearing, then he will be even more so. You've entered into a self-fullfilling prophecy that creates the very end you expected to begin with. What does this have to do with depression?

When you're sick, your immune system is down, and you become more susceptible to catching any other bugs that crawl your way. Our spirit is the same way. It's why so many people who are depressed and mentally ill end up in hospitals. Their spirits are already sick, so their physical bodies follow suit.

In my case, I don't believe I'm mentally ill, although some of you may have a different opinion on that. What I do believe, is that whatever childhood, or pre-adolescent baggage we've buried down deep makes it's way back to the surface just when you least expect it. Maybe you're looking at your 20-year high school reunion invitation. Maybe you've just suffered a loss, more traumatic then I'll get into here...

Having repressed resentments, feelings and memories boiling to the surface when you're a grown woman is inconvenient at best, doesn't allow for positive communications between adults or personal self growth. This is what happens when depression makes your emotional skin so damned thin, that the smallest little prick can set off time bombs you didn't even know were there.

So, in the days between the Sundays, when living life with depression, I believe we respond as a child would to situations we should normally brush off. And like a child, we don't know how to deal with the repercussions of our actions or words. Our hurt feelings should really be the least of our problems. The damage, caused by running someone else's actions and words through our childhood filter instead of the experiences of a grown adult, destroys self-confidence and any positive self-image we had left.

The more silent remarks and conversations I have with you inside my head, leaves thicker emotional scar tissue and higher walls, which perpetuates the cycle of depression no matter what season it is.

Senior Picture, 1994