October Snowfall Brings the Blues

By Michael Pearlman, 10-11-09

We’re not even halfway through October and I’m staring at a sea of dead leaves sitting atop not grass, but several inches of snow in our backyard. Sipping coffee on a 18-degree Sunday morning, it’s snowing in the valley and my beloved mountains are obscured by a dense wall of clouds. The flat, white light and frigid temperatures suggest winter, not autumn and I’ve got zero interest in venturing outside.

Winter’s abrupt arrival in Wyoming after a spectacular summer has been a rude adjustment. The feeling of slothfulness that typically begins tightening its grip during football season has enveloped me way too quickly. Since temperatures took a nosedive last week, my primary activities outside the office have consisted of taste-testing homemade baked goods and indulging in televised sports. If it’s cold and the snow isn’t deep enough to ski, you’ll probably find me on the couch, gaining weight and battling a mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

A form of depression that occurs at the same time every year, the specific cause of SAD remains unknown. According to the Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research, the onset of SAD may be related to a disruption of one’s biological clock caused by a lack of sunlight, or a drop in the hormone melatonin or the brain chemical seratonin. Some people treat the condition with light therapy or antidepressants, but I’ve found that lifestyle decisions have the most impact on how hard SAD hits me.

During my twenties, SAD would arrive each fall, varying only in how hard it hit. As my mood darkened, my typical response was to ramp up whatever unhealthy behavior I was currently indulging in, to battle back the demons by numbing the mind. After moving from the city to the mountains, I began to handle the fall onset of SAD by working as many hours as possible before the summer season wound down. I’d then spend part of the off-season traveling to some exotic locale or attending live music concerts. The antipaction and reward that accompanied trekking in Nepal or climbing volcanoes in Peru reminded me that I was alive and suggested the limitless potential of life.

One of the most effective antidotes to SAD I’ve found is vigorous exercise, but that means overcoming the evil voice in my head that always has other ideas."Don’t bother lacing up your running shoes,” it whispers, while an imaginary bag of potato chips dances in front of my face. “It’s cold and uncomfortable out there. Just curl up in a ball, snack at will and succumb to football and reality television like a good American.”

Heeding this voice is dangerous. It’s the same voice that makes me question decisions, the one that urges me to flee from responsibility and makes me beat myself up, (figuratively of course) for past mistakes and behaviors. Once I can channel my anxieties into athletic pursuits, that voice is quieter and life seems more manageable. But right now, when I wake for work and the sun hasn’t risen, it’s all too easy to feel like a victim.

Because SAD reappears year after year, you’d think I’d be prepared by now for the inevitable fall doldrums. I may be expecting its arrival, but overcoming the ailment is akin to treating a nagging injury. You can push on through, but because my motivation is affected, it’s a constant struggle.

Part of me still didn’t want to head outside into the snow, but this time I didn’t listen to the voice. Instead I donned a hat and gloves, laced up the running shoes and headed for the door. I’ve found that fighting the battle is more rewarding in the long run than feeling like a victim.