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This Fall has been a traumatic time; I have encountered a malady that millions of people apparently suffer from- most of them pretty much all their lives. I am not sure why it hit me, but I can say that I have a better understanding of what they are going through, having had a taste of it myself.

It all began the week of Thanksgiving. Up until that week, I had been traveling each and every week to someplace to do a class or some consulting. Since being in Dallas in September, I had not had any time off at all. Of course, the week of Thanksgiving, there wasn't a class to do, and I recall feeling a bit unusual during that week (particularly since I had no classes for the next two weeks as well), but the preparations for my normal huge Thanksgiving turkey kept me busy. I spent the day pretty much alone- Gerry was out in the suburbs with his folks, Steve Goldberg was with his mother, and even Greg was in Saudi Arabia. Steve did come over late in the day for a bite of turkey, but that was about it. I froze a great deal of turkey that weekend. Sunday night, Steve and Sheila and Diane came over, and we watched that fictional program about Kansas City and nuclear war- The Day After. It was kind of depressing, but I didn't think much of it.

When I got up Monday morning I felt awful. I wasn't physically sick, but for some reason I just couldn't bring myself to get up and get out of bed. There didn't seem to be anything I wanted or needed to do, so no particular reason to get up and get going. About noon, I did get up, but I just listlessly roamed about the apartment doing nothing in particular. In the afternoon, I thought about going over to Lakeshore Center and doing my normal workout routine, but I recall thinking: "What for?" I just skipped it, and that was very unlike me. I didn't cook dinner, but just munched on whatever was there. I thought that going out might perk me up, but by nine o'clock I didn't feel like that either. I felt like a little kid asking his mother "What can I do?" Nothing seemed interesting.

That night, I just couldn't fall asleep. I finally did about three, but woke up again at five and couldn't get back to sleep. Steve called the next day to do something, but I just didn't feel like it. I skipped my exercising again, and just read and watched TV. Wednesday morning, Steve called again. I just didn't feel like talking, but he got me to describe to him how I had been feeling. He surprised me when he said that he knew exactly what my problem was.

That afternoon, he came up to the apartment with a paperback book about depression, and told me to read it and see what I thought. When I did, I found that I seemed to be exhibiting every symptom of classic depression. The book suggested that I see my doctor, so I did make an appointment with Dr. Bice. I knew I needed to see someone; I had found myself thinking occasionally of what it might be like to just slide out my bedroom window- 36 stories up.

I got to see him the very next day, and he agreed that I was exhibiting signs of depression, and he felt that my treatment should consist of both medication and counseling. Why I was depressed, I am not sure, but it certainly could have been a reaction to finding myself with nothing to do after some twenty weeks straight of traveling and working. I started taking a "mood elevator," (apparently nothing really heavy-duty, but a drug that tries to calm anxieties without affecting normal feelings), and Dr. Bice recommended a psychologist that he said I might want to talk to. I saw her that Friday, and again the following Thursday. Both times, we just sat and talked for an hour about the feelings that I was having of being useless and of my life not moving towards any particular destination. She did offer some good advice, and the time I spent with her was worthwhile.

I did seem to be feeling somewhat better, but I was still listless, nothing much seemed interesting and I didn't have anything particular to do. The only thing I found interesting was that my symptoms were so classic: trouble sleeping, awaking early, no appetite, no sex drive and nothing interesting. I went on for two weeks like that. About the only thing that I did that helped was spend time with friends, with Steve and with my old friend Gerry and his new partner. Greg called from Saudi Arabia, where he was on extended assignment, and when I told him about my feelings, he stayed on the phone with me for two hours; at least I never had any more thoughts of going out the window after that. At the end of two weeks, I was still not feeling well, but I knew I had to suck it up and do the next week's assignment.

That Sunday evening, I simply had to get my things packed and head off to Minneapolis; I had no idea how I was going to make it through the week, but I do recall starting to feel a bit better when I headed off to the airport. It was frigid and snowing when I finally got to the hotel (late)- certainly a dismal late evening. Oddly, I only tossed and turned for a while before falling asleep.

The next morning, I awoke on schedule to the alarm clock, and I instantly knew that whatever shadows had been hanging over me for the previous three weeks were entirely gone; it was as if nothing had ever happened. After calling Dr. Bice, I stopped the medications. I did keep my appointment that Saturday with the psychologist; she was happy that I was feeling better, and I did thank her for the very good advice she'd given me already. After that I was fine.

I would never have thought myself a candidate for depression, but then we don't control our minds as much as we think we might. I suppose that the enforced absence from work did it; perhaps most of my feelings of self-worth and usefulness are tied to my work. I must try to deal better with that situation, and recognize that work is not always the center of life. I don't have a family, or even a partner, so there is no other center that I can look to. Perhaps my subconscious anxiety at not having a relationship got to me without my knowing, I don't know. But I do know that I must be more open to new ideas and experiences, and I must broaden my horizons. I must also investigate relationships. It doesn't seem as if my sex drive has returned to normal, but that may take some time.

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