There will be one person who reads this post and the lights will come on for them to.
This post is dedicated to two people. The first is that person who upon digesting the information within will find it is of some help.
I am diagnosed with SAD. Seasonal affective Disorder is a mental illness. You may know it better as Bipolar I or sometimes it can be called manic depression. The latter term is probably not correct when discussing my own symptoms.
I have shown symptoms of my condition since about the age of 13. However, and much to my regret I was not diagnosed until I was 38. The 25 years in between weren't a great time for me. I had difficulty holding down jobs and relationships and I suffered huge mood swings. I had turned into the same person my father was. Irritable, short tempered with strange sleeping patterns.
I'm sure you would all like to think that when I was eventually diagnosed that I got the help I needed.
I didn't
In January of this year I could not cope with the low mood I was in. I went to see my GP. The first two GP's I saw were totally oblivious to my requests for help. By April I saw the third and last GP available in my practice. I was polite but firm and demanded I was referred to a sleep clinic.
In early May I saw a neurologist. I paid for a private referral. The neurologist informed me that my referral to him had come rather late in the day. Indeed it was. I was diagnosed with SAD in May 2000. That diagnosis was at my own insistence, following a diagnosis of clinical depression in February 2000.
The neurologist prescribed me with a new anti-depressant, mirtazapine, a sedating medication. Within a week I was feeling a little better. Within a month I was a different person. I was waking up feeling refreshed and I was not needing any sleep during the day.
Maybe my story should end there. It doesn't. It starts there.
I had a follow up consultation in July with the neurologist. He asked me to have a blood test before I left him. He was looking for the level of vitamin D in my blood. Four weeks later I received a phone call confirming my vitamin d levels were slightly low. I was given a course of tablets to take over 12 weeks. I take one tablet every two weeks. I'm half way through
And ...
Boom ... the lights are on in Nuttymut's life.
What I am about to say is the truth ... it's not an exaggeration ... I cannot remember ever feeling as good as I do now. Never.
My life story would be kicked out by script writers at Coronation Street as being "far fetched". I know I have yet to face the next winter, but I tend to feel the neurologist I am with actually gets it and he'll keep me well
I hope for many this post is nothing more than the musings of an old fossil I also hope that it may encourage some of you who are in a dark place to seek help and to raise the question of vitamin D with your GP.
I pointed out at the beginning of my post that I wanted to dedicate it to two people. Those of you whom I have already referred to will I hope be motivated to see your GP and assert yourself.
The second person I want to dedicate this post to passed away in 1990. My Dad was never diagnosed as I have been. In one sense I am sad about this. In another I am able to understand him, albeit after he has passed.
I wish you all good health and happiness.
Best
Nuttymut