by: sharon kirkeyas the winter of 1981 neared, most of the subjects in dr. norman rosenthal’s study began feeling physically weighed down and emotionally sluggish, the way he predicted they would.they craved sweets and chocolates and starch-rich foods, though eating “would not be expressed as pleasurable,” but more of a compulsion. most had a history of seasonal cycles of depression. their moods would frequently start plummeting between october and december. they would go to sleep earlier, sleep longer and wake later, their energy crashing in late afternoon. unmotivated, lethargic and depressed, they would hunger for light like moths drawn to porch lamps.“one woman had been nicknamed ‘lights’ by her husband because of her habit of turning on all the lights in the house on entering it,” rosenthal and colleagues wrote. people dreamed of sunbathing on beaches. those who could travel south to florida or the caribbean reported improvements in their moods within days of arriving, “and a deterioration in mood a few days after returning north again.”the
pilot study involved just 29 people, whittled down from more than 2,000 who had responded to a washington post article published that summer about people whose moods changed with the seasons. eleven of those 29 were treated with “bright white lights.” they sat perched by fluorescent light boxes three hours before dawn and three hours after dusk, and all experienced some anti-depressant effects,
rosenthal and his team reported in a 1984 paper that would define a syndrome they named seasonal affective disorder, or sad.“when we admitted the first cohort, it was in the summertime, and they were really quite well,” rosenthal, a professor of psychiatry at georgetown university school of medicine said in an interview with the
national post this week. “some skeptical people said, ‘well, what will happen if they don’t get depressed? you’ll look pretty stupid. and i thought, well, that’s ok, i’ll take that chance. it’s not such a bad thing to look stupid.” but then, on schedule, the majority became depressed, he said. people went “down” at different times, depending on the degree of their sensitivity to light. “we exposed them to light and it was really quite one of the most exciting things…. it was, in some cases, very transformational.”rosenthal was working at the national institute of mental health in bethesda at the time. not all of his colleagues were convinced of the legitimacy of this newly described phenomenon. a lot thought it would prove to be trivial, or worse than trivial — just wrong. “some made a joke out of it,” rosenthal said. he remembers a female colleague of his at a conference saying, “come on, come stand in front of the lights with me. i’m feeling depressed.”nearly four decades out, the skepticism hasn’t been entirely eliminated. but when clocks fall back by one hour at 2 a.m. on nov. 7, ending daylight saving time and forcing a mass societal jet lag, it will also correlate with the onset of seasonal depression, according to those who study the phenomenon. throw in a second winter of covid and it could mean darker days than usual. “if you’ve got sad and covid anxiety,” rosenthal said, “it’s just a double whammy.”today,
sad is formally recognized in psychiatry’s official catalogue of mental illness as major depressive disorder with a “seasonal pattern,” a subtype of major depression.the dominant narrative for decades was that seasonal depression was caused by a lack of environmental light, and if you just gave people light, they got better —
“the more light, the better,” rosenthal has said. but multiple attempts are underway to tease out the psychological and biological underpinnings and triggers that may be at play in “this annual, recurrent illness,” said toronto psychiatrist dr. anthony levitt, who, together with dr. raymond lam,
co-wrote the first canadian guidelines on the treatment of sad, published in 1999.“certain hormone levels, certain basic building blocks of proteins — these all shift with the seasons,” said levitt, chief of the hurvitz brain sciences program at sunnybrook health sciences centre in toronto.but what shifts those critical biological molecules? is it length of day? is it amount of light? temperature, wind velocity or barometric pressure?“we don’t know what the trigger is, and it may be different for different people,” levitt said. but sad is likely the result of some external trigger, combined with a predisposition for depression itself, because of genetics or family history, say, and a person’s “unique psychological response to the seasons,” he said.levitt once had a trainee who refused to put on his winter jacket until well into january. he refused to accept it was winter. more than half the population reports a seasonal change in mood or energy, he said, making it a statistically normal human behaviour. it doesn’t, however, mean the person is necessarily dysfunctional. a lot of people aren’t that great with how dark it gets.sad runs the spectrum, levitt and others said, from the winter blahs (formally known as “subsyndromal sad”) to full-blown depression that interferes with day-to-day functioning. while 10 per cent of the population, based on questionnaire studies, report sad or subsyndromal sad, less than one per cent meets criteria for a “seasonal pattern of major depressive episodes,” said lam, associate head of the department of psychiatry at the university of british columbia. the lifetime rate for major depressive episodes in canada is 12 per cent.still, sad has become saturated in culture: people can buy light boxes at costco. online retailers sell sad lamps and green and blue glow glasses. a finnish tech company is selling a
device that blasts bright light — into the ears.