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Winter Depression
People have long recognized that winter makes depression worse.
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One of my great joys of middle age has been perennial gardening. I freely admit to have no conception whatever of garden design. I buy one of any plant I like and stick it in where I have room, with just a little thought to color combinations and space. As a result my garden from afar looks like a crazy quilt. But I like to look from up close, to see the growth of individual plants that interest me, how their leaves and stems spring up from the earth, how they blossom and flourish in the summer heat. There is something about the rebirth of the world in spring, the cycle through summer and even into September and the fall, when I can see the plants preparing themselves for the winter to come, that I find deeply pleasurable. It seems to me to have to do with the cycle of death and rebirth, something about how I experience my own body aging but my children coming into full maturity, that gives me a sense of continuity and some degree of acceptance of my own mortality. And it's more than just a state of mind--I get up early in the morning and go out to see what I see new in the garden--I come home from work and can't wait to go weeding or transplanting. I feel energy throughout my body. But I hate winter. My zen-like peace that I find in the garden only lasts through the last days of fall. When winter comes I'm bored, grouchy, sorry for myself, depressed, withdrawn, a bear who can't get to sleep. It certainly feels to me as if it's more than being deprived of my favorite leisure activity. It feels qualitatively different. There are plenty of other things I can do besides gardening, but I don't want to do them; and I have trouble enjoying the other things I normally enjoy--conversation, friends, my kids, reading. My get up and go has got up and went. I can usually force myself out of this mood--and I have some favorite techniques I'll share later--but sometimes it's very hard. The fact that I can force myself out probably means that I'm not suffering from a serious depression--but I hope we can get into a discussion of what the boundaries are between the blues and real depression, how to know when to get help, etc. I also know that this funk always seems to disappear in April and May, and it sure feels like it's something outside of myself--a big wet blanket comes down over me in December and starts to lift in March--so I wonder just how much of this I have control over and how much is something that is happening to me. And this is something else I hope we can discuss, what is the function of sunlight in all this, what is the function of lack of opportunity for favorite activities, the function of being cooped up breathing stale air, etc. Depression is a complex condition that blurs our Western boundaries between mind and body, nature and nurture, self and others. Most people with depression describe difficulties in their childhood or later in life that have contributed to low self-esteem and a sensitivity to rejection, an uncertainty about the self and an inability to enjoy life. But this is not true for everyone; some people who appear very stable and well integrated develop it suddenly, unexpectedly, in response to a life change. There is clearly a biochemical component to depression, and medication can be very helpful for most people, but it is not sufficient treatment for very many. Most people with depression have developed self-defeating emotional and behavior patterns that have to be changed before a permanent recovery is possible. The truth is that whether the roots of depression are in the past in childhood, or in the present in the brain, recovery can only come about through a continuous act of will, a self-discipline applied to emotions, behavior, and relationships in the here and now. This is a hard truth, because no one deserves to feel this way, and it doesn't seem fair that the blameless have to help themselves. Besides, the depressed are always being told to snap out of it, pull themselves together, don't give in to weakness, and it's the cruelest, most unfeeling, advice they can be given. People who are depressed work very hard at living, at trying to solve their problems, but their efforts are unproductive because the aim is bad, the object of attention is wrong. The real battle of depression is between parts of the self. Depressed people are fighting shadows, ghosts, pieces of themselves that they can't integrate and can't let go. The harder they work, the more they do what they know how to do, the worse things get. When their loved ones try to help in the usual ways, the common-sense ways that only seem natural expressions of caring and concern, they get rejected. The depressed person then feels more guilty and out of control. People with depression have to learn new ways of living with themselves and others--new emotional skills. These skills take practice, coordination, and flexibility. Instead of the furious struggle of shadowboxing, they have to learn emotional habits that are much more like swimming--smooth, rhythmic, learning to float, learning to be comfortable in the water. Depressed people are great strugglers, but to struggle is to drown. Better to learn how to let the water hold you up. The families of people with depresion also have to learn new skills. Many of the familiar patterns of family interaction are related to the depression. With the best intentions, family members sometimes make things worse for the depressive. They have to learn how to mix confrontation and support, caring and limits. In the process of changing, some family members will come to grips with distressing truths about themselves--but the truth is nothing to be afraid of. |
| What to do with the winter blues: In all of these, be cautious to set specific and limited goals. Be happy with small steps and don't be so ambitious that you give up before you start. When you do something, take the time to enjoy it, and take the time afterward to savor your accomplishment. |
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Holiday Blues
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This time of year we often hear stories on the TV news about holiday depression and how to cope with it. Though the holidays are a rough time emotionally, I've never seen many people who suffer from what could objectively be called holiday depression. We see many more depressed people after the holidays. My theory is that most people put on their character armor a little tighter at this time of year and do everything they can to get through a stressful time, then allow themselves to fall apart a little bit afterwards. They go through the motions, they go to the parties and dinners and family reunions, and if they feel a little sad or disappointed they stuff it, or have another drink. Then about mid-January people start asking for help because they feel really terrible and don't understand why. This is not to say that the holidays are not a stressful time. All of us have a little child inside who continually wishes for happy endings. No matter how the holidays go, it seems as if the little child is at best a bit disappointed. Things never seem to be quite as good as we'd hoped, never quite live up to our golden memories of childhood. Our parents may be a bit more frail and forgetful, our loved ones not quite as caring as we'd wish, our children misbehaving or hurt by some careless circumstance. In this sense, the holidays are doomed to disappointment even under the best conditions. This adds up to a little sadness or sense of loss that must be accepted. But the message can be so strong, the expectation so high, that we can begin to believe there is something wrong with us if we are not full of frenetic joy 24 hours a day from Thanksgiving through Twelfth Night. This is crazy thinking, of course. We are not built to sustain such nonstop happiness; neither do the vicissitudes of life permit us to attain it except at rare moments. But we push ourselves to be cheery, to present a false front of emotions that we feel somehow expected to sustain. This guarantees further disappointment. What good is a family reunion if everyone there is putting on an act? How can we hope to feel genuinely close to our loved ones if we are not saying what we truly think and feel, and sincerely interested in what they think and feel? Don't take this as advice to get intoxicated and tell off your brother-in-law. At the holidays, be prepared to experience a full range of emotion, from happiness to sadness, joy to anger, but remember that these feelings will be more intense than usual because of the season. Embrace them. Let yourself remember what it was like to be disappointed at Christmas, if that is how you feel. Let yourself be righteously indignant about our society's response to the needy, if that is how you feel. Let yourself be close, sharing, and joyful, if that is how you feel. Feelings are only an inevitable part of being a human animal. Use common sense in how you express your feelings, but if you don't want to suffer the post-holiday blues, give yourself permission to feel. Besides the ordinary holiday stress that all of us can suffer from
at this time of year, there are others who have an especially hard
time now. There are people who are truly lonely at the holidays. The
elderly may be isolated and feel forgotten by their families; a card
and a phone call only go so far. People whose economic condition has
worsened may feel ashamed or inadequate that they can't provide for
their families as they did in the past. Those who have lost a loved
one during the course of the year can expect to have a rough time
because the holidays bring back memories of better days. Sadness and
grief in such circumstances are normal and not to be feared. If you've
gone through the loss of a loved one or suffered some similar blow
to your psychological balance this year, you may get some comfort
from reflecting that such pain does diminish, with time. Otherwise,
try to open yourself up to those around you who may want to try to
ease your pain but don't know how. Or seek out someone in a similar
situation who may appreciate your company. Just spend time with others--go
bowling, make cookies, go for a walk, but do it in the company of
those who may care about you.
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