S.A.D. came to visit...

"Winters are long in Chicago.” Everyone kept telling me this as Fall approached and I guess I never quite grasped the meaning of that statement. I took it as the cold weather lasts a long time. That I can prepare for and did last year, but nothing prepped me for what happened at the end of this past October.

Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you I’m a morning person. With the ending of daylight savings time, I found myself in the morning walking to my train in the dark and walking home in the dark not to mention that I work in a downtown high rise with no windows. Soon I began feel tired all of the time. I would wake up with no energy and worst of all my eating habits started to change. My one glazed donut from 7 – Eleven soon turned to three and you know where I’m going with this.

I usually get a case of the “holiday blues” but this was something different. My first reaction was not to panic that this was not the return of another bout of serious depression. I called my doctor and made an appointment. She said that I was experiencing “Seasonal Affective Disorder” and the lack of natural sunlight was causing the change in my behavior. She went on to say that many in her practice suffer from the disorder and that it is pretty common in the winter months. Well, shit. I thought to myself.

Come to think of it, the sun had not been out in three weeks and the place started to feel like Russia. The doctor immediately offered up a pill as the solution. It’s either that or one of those “light” boxes that you sit in front for 30 minutes each day. Most of this was making sense but at the same time I was thinking: “What a bunch of crap; and for God sake, a pill?”

She wanted to put me on Lexapro. “Are you familiar with the drug?” she said. I dropped my head and looked up with the eyes of someone hiding a machete behind their back. I told her my story (nightmares) about anti-depressants and sedatives that doctors seem to be prescribing like candy. I am no fan of any of these drugs. “Do you know about the suicide rate in Alaska or the Vodka poisonings in Russia? She said. Well, she really didn’t say that, but I suddenly was dwelling on those subjects for some reason.

“When did you last take Lexapro?” she asked? I explained that I was on the highest dosage and mixing it with alcohol. “Oh…okay. Tell me about that period of your life." To save those of you who have read about this in pervious posts a bunch of time:




TIME PASSED..






“Hmmm… that’s some story.” she said. “Can we at least try the lowest dosage and see how it goes. You’re no longer drinking and I think it will have a tremendous effect on how you’re feeling. I can give you some samples.” I took the samples and left her office. On the walk home (it was cloudy that day too.) I started to think about how at one time pills, alcohol, and a botched diagnosis that I was bi-polar took away someone I really loved. But something was different this time: alcohol was not in the equation. So I started treatment. Stay tuned.