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SAD: Absence of Light and The Blues

It's Okay Not To Be Okay (Story #1)

By Paula ShabloPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 12 min read
17
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Disclaimer: "While this piece contains fictional content, the subject matter is very real. People who suffer with mental health issues face not only the struggle of their affliction but the stigma attached to seeking help. It is the goal of this collaboration to destigmatize discussing mental health and instead normalize conversation about it. It IS okay not to be okay."

About this collaboration: Prologue

An Absence of Light

“You know how much I love Daryl,” Susan cried. “But if he accepts this job offer, I’m going to have to file for divorce!”

Kellynn stared slack-jawed at her friend. “How can you say that? I never saw a couple more in love than you two!”

“Oh, Kell, I just…I hate it there. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t live there. Not permanently. I’m barely surviving as it is.”

“I thought you loved Portland.”

“I thought I did, too. I mean, it’s beautiful. Everything is so green. There are so many things to do—art museums, music venues, theater. It has every cultural thing I could imagine. I should be on top of the world.”

“But—?”

“I don’t know! I don’t understand it. All I want to do is stay in bed and eat cookies.”

“Cookies? You?” Kell shook her head. “Okay, this is serious. What did Daryl say?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Sue!” Kellynn shook a finger at her best friend. “What’s going on in Portland? Do you hate your apartment? Do you not like your job? Are the people mean?”

“No, no, and no. I like my job, the apartment is great and the people we know have all been friendly and decent, and I have no idea what’s going on!” Susan threw up her hands and burst into tears.

Kell got up and moved from her side of the booth to sit with her friend. She embraced her and let her cry herself out.

After a couple of minutes, Susan composed herself and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, Kell. I’m never like this.”

“I know.” Kell moved back to her spot.

She realized that the waiter had been standing at a discriminate distance, biding his time until the exchange was over. She waved at him, and he put their drinks in front of them, sharing a sunny smile as he did so. “Your entrees will be ready soon,” he informed them. “Would you like more chips and salsa while you wait?”

The women eyed the bowls, barely touched, and Susan said, “No, thank you. We’re saving room for these margaritas.”

“We’re going to need it,” Kell added. “These are huge!”

“Back soon,” the waiter promised, and hurried away.

“He’s wonderful,” Susan remarked. “Remind me to tip him well.”

Kell scoffed. “You don’t need a reminder. You’re a wonderful tipper.”

Susan chuckled. “Lots of starving waiter friends in my past.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kell was one of them. She studied her friend closely. Her face was blotchy and pasty. “Maybe,” she suggested, “you need more fresh air. Don’t you get outside in Portland? You’re looking mighty pale.”

“Sure, I’m pale.” Susan shrugged dismissively. “I go for walks every day. But—no sun.”

“What?”

“It rains all the time. And even when it’s not raining, it’s cloudy. My tan has definitely suffered.”

Kell nodded knowingly and exclaimed, “Aha!”

“What, aha?”

“That’s it, Sue. There’s your problem. No sun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“SAD.”

“Yeah, I’m sad. I guess that’s what it is. Maybe I’m homesick. I don’t know.”

“No, not sad, the emotion. Well, yeah, that. But what I mean is SAD. Ess Ay Dee.” Kell spelled it out. “It’s a thing—my mother has it.”

“Kellynn.” Susan narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Kell ran a finger over the rim of her glass, brushing away most of the salt. It scattered over the table top. She took a sip of her drink and gasped. “Did I or did I not tell him to go light on the booze?”

“You did.” Susan sampled her own, savoring the salt as she did. “Yum. Perfection.”

Kell shook her head. “Look, I don’t want to spend our time together scrolling on my phone,” she said. She took another tentative sip of her drink and then pushed it away. “But you need to make an appointment with your doctor while you’re here. Do you think she can get you in?”

“I already have an appointment.”

“Not the gynecologist, Suz. Your primary care.”

“Why? I’m a little depressed, that’s all. I’m not sick. And one doctor is enough! I’m trying to have a vacation, here.”

“I know, but what I’m concerned with is how things will be when you go back to Portland. And I think she can help you.”

“I just need to come home, that’s all,” Susan argued.

“Cloudy days happen everywhere,” Kell remarked.

“What does that mean?”

Kell shook her head. “Look, I’m not a doctor. But I can tell you what happened with my mother.”

“Okay.”

“You know how it is in the Springs, right?” She was talking about Colorado Springs, where her mother had lived all her life.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful there. Mountain views, lots to do. Art, music, theater…”

“Yes, yes, all that and over 300 days of sunshine a year.”

Susan frowned, suddenly more interested. “Really?”

“Yes. But one winter—2006, as I recall—this whole area had a spell of weather that was just weird. It was cloudy and snowed every day for over a month.”

“I remember that. There was over an inch of snow on the ground for over sixty days.” Susan shook her head. “That was a rough couple of months.”

“Did you have the blues then?”

“Well…” Susan looked thoughtful. “I don’t know if I’d call it the blues. It wasn’t anything like these last few months in Portland, though. I was just…sluggish, I guess.”

Kell nodded. “Well, my mother…she had the blues. The bluer than blue blues. Dad called me one day because he couldn’t get her to stop crying, and didn’t know what was going on. Had he said something? Done something? She kept assuring him that he hadn’t, but couldn’t explain why she felt so hopeless. I took some time off and went down there, and Dad and I got her to the doctor.”

Susan sighed. “I don’t need a doctor for the blues, Kell.” She shook her head. “I just need…”

After Susan’s voice trialed off, Kellynn waited a respectful beat. “There’s never any shame in going to a doctor and asking for some help.”

“I feel…stupid!” Susan covered her mouth and her eyes darted back and forth. She’d spoken quite loudly, which was completely out of character. In a quieter tone she added, “I should be able to figure this out. I should be happy. I have a good job, and I like it. I have a great place to live. Daryl has gotten so much done on his dissertation, and has job offers with salaries that could set us up for life.”

“And?”

“And I don’t care! I just want to sleep and eat junk and making myself get up and out of the house is so…so hard! And I smile, smile, smile all day long, telling myself that if I do it, I will feel it. And Daryl…”

Kell waited again, and then asked, “Daryl, what?”

“He’s not blind. He knows something is wrong. He thinks it’s him, but… and I can’t… okay, I see what you were saying about your mom and dad.”

“A light!” Kell smiled gently. “Let’s eat all these delicious carbs.” She indicated the approaching waiter, who was carrying Mexican fare that would delight the palates. “And then let’s call your doctor and get you an appointment.”

“Okay.”

Once their food was on the table, Susan asked, “What did your mom’s doctor say?”

And there followed a discussion about the reality of SAD: Seasonal Affective Disorder.

“People with SAD suffer the symptoms of a Major Depressive Disorder only during a specific time of year, usually winter. This appears to be related to the shorter days of winter, and the lack of sunlight in many parts of the country.” (Emphasis mine.) Depression | Anxiety and Depression Association of America, ADAA

"Symptoms of SAD can include:

a persistent low mood

a loss of pleasure or interest in normal everyday activities

irritability

feelings of despair, guilt and worthlessness

feeling lethargic (lacking in energy) and sleepy during the day

sleeping for longer than normal and finding it hard to get up in the morning

craving carbohydrates and gaining weight

For some people, these symptoms can be severe and have a significant impact on their day-to-day activities." NHS

Portland, Oregon (Pixabay)

The following week, Kellynn met Susan for a walk through the park. The day was unusually warm for February, and taking advantage of higher temperatures for some sunlight exposure was especially important to Susan now. She was scheduled to return to Portland in two days.

“Daryl called this morning, and the light therapy lamp has been delivered,” Susan announced. “My doctor said I should spend about a half hour with it every morning.”

“That’s what my mother did, and it really helped her get through the gloomy days.” Kell shook her head. “It was amazing, really, what a little light could do.”

“Well, I’ve also looked into some talk therapy,” Susan added. “I’m not the only one in Portland with this problem, apparently. It’s called ‘Seasonal Affective Disorder’ or ‘Winter Depression’, but my doctor says that it can happen any time of the year in climates where sunlight is blocked by clouds a lot of the time, like it is in Portland.” She laughed. “She told me there’s a real reason behind comic book pictures of sad people with rainclouds over their heads—cloudy days can make people feel glum, especially when they go on and on.”

“Well, you grew up here in Boulder—you’ve been seasoned in the sun. It’s no wonder all those cloudy days got you down.” Kell shuddered sympathetically. She lifted her chin and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth and light of the Colorado sunshine. “I don’t think I’d do well out there, myself.”

Susan smiled wryly. “I feel so much better after spending the week here. I hate to go back.”

“How much longer before Daryl finishes his program?”

“Ten months.”

“Wow.”

“But I finally got up the nerve to talk to him about what’s been happening to me.”

“Well, that’s good. I mean….is it?”

“I feel bad, but Daryl agreed immediately that he should find a job somewhere else when he graduates.” This time Susan’s smile was genuinely happy. “I guess he really loves me. He said he’d never put me through a lifetime of SAD.”

“Of course he loves you, silly.”

“Oh, you have no idea the things that have been going through my head. I didn’t, either, honestly. Dr. Anderson just sort of…pulled it all out of me. Once I started talking, I couldn’t shut up!”

“That happens to me all the time.”

“I know!”

Laughter feels good. On a sunny day, it feels great.

Kellynn couldn't contain her curiosity. “What about Daryl?” she asked. “He hasn't had anything like this happen to him?”

“He says he feels fine. But my doctor says this happens much more often to women than to men.” Susan gave a derisive bark of laughter. “Figures. Just one more thing we get to deal with.”

“Yeah, I’m still trying to convince Dan that PMS is real. He insists it’s an excuse to be bitchy.”

“Oy.” Susan rolled her eyes. “If men only knew. Last week, I might have wished it on them, but I feel better now.”

“So, you’ll do light therapy and talk therapy. Anything else?” Kell asked.

“Well, I have to take Vitamin D. I tested deficient for it when she ran my blood work." Susan sighed. "For now, that’s all. Dr. Anderson doesn’t want to prescribe antidepressants unless she has to. She has suggested coming home to Colorado every few weeks for some real sunlight therapy.” Susan laughed. “Thank God for my trust fund. I can afford to do that, and Mom and Dad are always happy to have me for a few days.”

“That’s awesome.” Kellynn wasn’t jealous, exactly, but she wondered what it would be like to just rely on the good old trust fund for plane ticket money. Her own trust fund was the savings account that currently held about $47.00. “It must feel better, having a plan in place for dealing with this.”

“It does. Just having some strategy that I can control makes me feel better. And I have you to thank for it.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“What did you do? You pushed me to see the doctor, silly goose. You listened to me. You’re the best.”

Kell blushed. “I’m just glad I knew a little something about it. Very little.”

“I feel good. I feel good! Let’s get ice cream. My treat.”

“Hot chocolate for me!”

“Wimp!”

“Yep!”

Linking arms, they walked briskly through the park toward the coffee shop, faces lifted to bask in the sunlight.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is one of many types of depression, and is unique in its manifestation in certain seasons--usually winter, with its reduced hours of natural sunlight. It occurs much more often in women, and more often in the northern climes.

To help you recognize when it might be time to seek help, see the infograph below. Remember, it is ALWAYS okay to ask for help.

Infographic image from the website

This has been the first of 20 stories in a collaborative effort being tackled by 20 writers from Facebook's Vocal Writers Sharing Community.

Story number 2 is by Josephine Mason: Anxiety

depression
17

About the Creator

Paula Shablo

Daughter. Sister. Mother. Grandma. Author. Artist. Caregiver. Musician. Geek.

(Order fluctuates.)

Follow my blog at http://paulashablo.com

Follow my Author page at https://www.amazon.com/Paula-Shablo/e/B01H2HJBHQ

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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