Dawn of the dead
 
 
Frank Cotolo
8 Dec, 2008
 
Winter. It brings the zest of the cold, the white blankets on the rolling hills, the rosy cheeks of children on sleighs and to some, morbid fits of depression. That's right, while the brisk winds of winter make some of us jump and play, they can also bring the early nights and an almost irresistible urge to see how long we can keep our heads next to a chicken roasting in the oven.
 
Today, this malaise has a name: Seasonal Affective Disorder or, SAD. It used to be called Cabin Fever, until it was discovered that people who lived in condominiums also got it.
 
Also, someone discovered a condition where people became depressed solely by using too much of a certain brand maple syrup: Log Cabin Disorder or, LCD.
 
People with SAD experience a strong dismal reaction to the short days, long nights and presence of animated snowmen. These winter blues strike one in every fifteen people at last count (another count is taking place even as I write this). Becoming unusually depressed - more so, that is, than the feeling one experiences when discovering Ellen DeGeneres is doing another TV special - is a symptom of SAD. Along with the dread and the morose change in the space between the toes, SAD can ruin intimate relationships and damage your pajamas.
 
Seasonal Affective Disorder can ruin intimate relationships and damage your pajamas.
 
And just when you think that all one has to do to rid oneself of SAD's hazardous effects is wait out the season, another quack comes along and tells you that SAD can also develop during the summer.
 
However, since a summer symptom of SAD is an increased sex drive, it is safe to say that the winter version can be more annoying.
 
Now that SAD has been identified, I understand the behaviors of many relatives over the decades. For one, there was my Uncle Vern. Every winter this usually jolly man turned into a sour, angry soul who went berserk when night fell around five p.m. and the ice cream truck still had not arrived.
 
Also, my Aunt Vivian, a pleasant, clean lady, changed radically the day after Daylight Savings Time began. Ordinarily a well-spoken woman, she would begin to talk like Bela Lugosi and shy from any hint of garlic. It was behavior made worse since her husband, Cliff, went through his own depressing metamorphosis, carrying around a briefcase of wooden spikes and demanding to be addressed as Van Cliffsing.
 
So think about how you are behaving when the weather changes and the nights grow longer: are you feeling all right or do you tend to raise your voice and sound like Joe Cocker when anyone asks you to parallel park?
 
Frank Cotolo can be found hosting the talk and interview programme Cotolo Chronicles.
   
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