Mental Health, Symptoms

My Sob Story: Inexplicable Crying on Otherwise Happy Weekends

Things that don’t normally upset me incite tears on weekend afternoons after we’ve been out to brunch. I can’t believe I wrote that bizarre sentence. Nor can I believe this crazy thing that’s happening to me. It’s happened four or five times in the last couple months.

These weekend days always start out great. We have brunch, go for a walk or even run errands. Not until we get home in the late afternoon do I break down. I don’t even feel sad before it happens. I just start crying.

My favorite example is my overzealous reaction to Sunset magazine’s “green” issue. It, and every other magazine’s “green” issue, advocates buying new things to do your part to take care of the environment. There’s no acknowledgment of the waste in producing the product and replacing a current, often still usable, item. I’m frequently bothered by this, but my reaction has always been reasonable.

I didn’t hold back that day. I cried, ranted and raved, and cried some more. The sobbing didn’t last long, but I recognized from the start how ridiculous it was. I was crying over how commercial operations encourage people to buy things. There was no underlying theme — believe me, I tried to find one.

Tears I’ve shed on other weekend days range from absurd to genuine grief about having migraine and chronic daily headache. The weird thing is I don’t cry in grief any other time. Maybe when the pain is horrible and won’t relent, but even then it is rare.

A summary of the weirdness:

  • The tears are brief and can be interrupted fairly quickly
  • I’m fully aware of the absurdity of some things I cry about
  • I have only cried inexplicably on days we’ve had brunch
  • It always happens in the afternoon
  • I don’t feel sad on the days I cry
  • I don’t cry on weekdays
  • I don’t think I’m depressed in general

I try not to make correlations without sufficient facts, but I can’t ignore that this only occurs on weekends. The only explanation I’ve come up with is a blood sugar crash after brunch. I’ve had sweet, carbohydrate-heavy breakfasts on the days I’ve cried. How is that different than days I don’t eat until 4 p.m. or eat cookies for breakfast (neither of which is uncommon)?

Any suggestions on causes or solutions for my bizarre problem?

Coping, Mental Health, News & Research, Treatment

Treating Depression With Music Therapy (and Lifting a Funk With the Dave Matthews Band)

guitar music therapy depressionI was in a horrible mood the day before I emerged from hibernation. Disgruntled, “a state of sulky dissatisfaction,” according to the Visual Thesaurus, is too mild a word, but combined with gloom and self-hatred it paints the picture. I made it through the day OK, but was out of my mind by evening. Hart had a work dinner, so he wasn’t around to break me out of my funk.

I considered turning music on, but craved silence. When my mood hadn’t lifted by 8:30 p.m., I was willing to try anything to break free from my self-imposed cage. Perhaps the Dave Matthews Band could cheer me up.

A smile blossomed as soon as I hit play. Duh, Dave Matthews and the Dave Matthews Band have never failed to make me happy. Except when I need to wallow in bleak lyrics and feel sorry for myself. Actually, I feel better after listening to them then, too.

Recent research indicates that music can be an effective depression treatment. The study was of listening to or creating music with trained music therapists, not simply turning on your iPod. Still, the power and potential of music is undeniable.

The finding that music therapy offers a real clinical benefit to depression sufferers comes from a review by the Cochrane Collaboration, a not-for-profit group that reviews health care issues. Although there aren’t many credible studies of music therapy for depression, the reviewers found five randomized trials that studied the effects of music therapy. Some studies looked at the effects of providing music therapy to patients who were receiving drug treatment for depression. Others compared music therapy to traditional talk therapy. In four out of five of the trials, music therapy worked better at easing depression symptoms than therapies that did not employ music, the researchers found.

Two findings really jumped out at me: Music therapy is appealing to many people who aren’t interested in conventional depression treatments, like teenagers. Also, people less likely to drop out of music therapy than other therapies.

My only question is if playing Rock Band qualifies as making music.

Related posts:

Chronic Migraine, Coping, Mental Health

Frequent Migraines + Cold, Dreary Weather = Hibernation

I’ve had intermittent bouts of inexplicable sadness since I returned to Seattle after Christmas. Always worried I’m going to slip into a clinical depression, Hart and I watch closely for warning signs. How I’ve felt just doesn’t fit the profile, but I’m rarely sad without reason unless I’m depressed.

Could being cooped up in my house with migraine after migraine, and not seeing or talking to friends and family have something to do with the so-called inexplicable sadness? Hmm.

I’ve hidden from the cold, windy, rainy weather that’s descended upon Seattle. It seems colder and wetter than usual, but maybe I’m revising history. My scalp hurts when rain, even the slightest drizzle, hits it. Wind or extra-chilly air increase my head pain.

Yesterday was warm and sunny (that’s Seattle-speak for 50 degrees with a light wind, a sun-shaped glow behind the clouds and a few visible blue patches in the sky). My head wasn’t any better than it had been, but I was in such a great mood. I walked a couple miles, did some grocery shopping, went to two appointments and had dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. That’s more than I did in any week in January!

I went into hibernation without even realizing it. Eventually sitting in front of the cozy fire became oppressive — the opposite of the comforting home it usually is. In the name of keeping warm and not exacerbating my head pain, I withdrew from the many activities that make my life good. I thought I was taking care of myself, but was making things worse.

I emerged into the world yesterday and it was glorious. The weather won’t hold, of course, but I hope the glimpse of sun will keep my new perspective in place.

Coping, Mental Health, Resources, Treatment

Mayo Clinic on Depression

Depression is the focus of the latest Housecall, Mayo Clinic’s e-mail newsletter. The excellent information includes:

Also, Mayo’s depression section is a resource that everyone with depression must check out.

Coping, Mental Health

Whoa! I’m Depressed

I’ve been debating all week whether I’m down or if my clinical depression is creeping back. Arriving a day late for the psychiatry appointment I scheduled a month ago was just what I needed to confirm my suspicions.

Even though I could reschedule for an hour later this afternoon, I was crushed. Not like a soda can that’s been stepped on from the top; more like one crumpled in a fist. Still, the anguish was disproportional for the event. Even after I found the Tully’s coffee in the hospital, settled in with tea and a cookie, and pulled out my magazine, I was near tears.

That made it pretty clear that my:

  • Exhaustion isn’t just migraine-related
  • Fall’s arrival is not why I want curl up on the couch
  • Lack of focus on and interest in blogging isn’t because The Daily Headache has run its course
  • Increased frustration with having a chronic illness doesn’t mean I’ve lost my ability to cope with it
  • Lack of interest in sex isn’t just a Cymbalta side effect

Convenient that I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. For two years, my cocktail has been 400 mg of Wellbutrin, 200 mg of Lamictal and 60 mg of Cymbalta. Because my doctor thinks that some of my disinterest in sex is from Cymbalta — and because doubling that dose two years ago wasn’t helpful — I’m increasing Lamictal to 300 mg. I’m also going to add ginkgo to see if it helps the sexual side effects.

I’m relieved. Having an aha! moment reminded me that beating myself up won’t do a bit of good. I am, however, sick of the constant vigilance required with depression. Maybe that’s another sign that I’m depressed.