SAD
One of us has Seasonal Affective Disorder. Strongly linked to hours of daylight, we find it impacts the way your mind and body processes the world around you and has some strange implications for appreciation of your local Terroir.
www.nhs.uk/mental-health/conditions/seasonal-affective-disorder-sad/symptoms/ describes the symptoms as starting in the autumn/winter and improving in spring and summer. Apparently some really perverse people do it the other way round and hit rock bottom in the autumn. Thankfully, one of us is not that awkward and loves autumn and all it has to offer.
Typical signs are:
a persistent low mood – well, in Terroir’s case it’s more a feeling of being permanently below par which we guess is the same thing
a loss of pleasure or interest in normal everyday activities – or just lacking the energy to get out of bed; the bar for getting going is much higher than normal
feeling irritable – oh yes!!
feelings of despair, guilt and worthlessness – thankfully not so much of this
low self-esteem – as for above
tearfulness – it’s tempting
feeling stressed or anxious – this is the big one for Terroir
a reduced sex drive – that would be too much information
becoming less sociable – yep, although enjoy being distracted once the effort has been made
be less active than normal, feel lethargic (lacking in energy) and sleepy during the day, sleep for longer than normal and find it hard to get up in the morning – yes, yes and YES
find it difficult to concentrate – oh yes!
have an increased appetite – some people have a particular craving for foods containing lots of carbohydrates and end up gaining weight as a result – it was such a relief to discover this symptom; yesterday the only thing which kept me going was a steady supply of cake
these symptoms may make everyday activities increasingly difficult. Understatement!
So what has this to do with Terroir’s blog?
The most crucial impact on the blog itself was the inability to prepare the intended content for Blog 126. Thinking that a warm and sunny environment might lessen the symptoms, we accepted an invitation to go to Kerala in southern India for a chunk of January. Tales of Indian terroir was to be this fortnight’s topic, but the deadline loomed and despite that extra tropical sun, I just couldn’t pull it together.
Here’s a taste of what you missed:
By lunch time on Wednesday, as anxiety levels rose, an alternative solution became obvious: write about the landscape of being SAD. Is there anyone else out there who can share experiences?
The spring landscape is actually a mixed bag. On the down side, constant Instagram images of the first primrose, or carpets of snowdrops, become very irritating. You’d think that smug Instagrammers (Instagrammars?) had invented them but they are symbolic of the worst time of year for SAD sufferers.
The absolute nadir of SAD landscapes centres around the daffodil. Just a vase or a clump of daffodils, all sounding their trumpets in a shrill chorus of over loud, over bright, over done ‘look at me’ egotistical happiness, reduces me to a surly, cynical, head-under-the duvet, SADette.
Wordsworth certainly didn’t have SAD although one suspects that Dorothy may have had knowledge of many of the symptoms simply from cohabiting with William. Thank goodness our violent pink, brutish, full-of-the-joys-of-spring Camellia was not a Lake District native.
By the time the bluebells are out, the worst symptoms are abating and bluebell-loving friends can usually be tolerated and even accompanied on woodland visits without Terroir suffering revulsion at either the colour or the sappy fragrance.
On the upside, working in the garden is an absolute tonic. Again, the bar is high but having overcome the reluctance to don coat, clogs and gloves, the satisfaction of working up a sweat with the pruning kit is enormous. But even here, climate change has a negative impact. Increased rainfall and warmer days mean that spring starts earlier despite the still wintry day length. SAD sufferers now have to complete their pruning tasks earlier and earlier, with less to do when symptoms get really bad. If it would only stop raining we could get on with sowing the vegetable seeds.
A friend once asked me why I was SADdest in the spring. Surely, she said, with lengthening days, this would be a cheerful time? But the darkest hour is just before dawn or, in SAD terms, just before summer. Currently we are just before spring, which is no help at all! Maybe I’ll be pleased to see the fritillaries.
