The jalapeno scale of depression

In 1992, the year my life well and truly fell apart, I went on Prozac two weeks before I went to Italy on a scholarship to study Roman Art and Architecture in situ, so to speak.  I did not precisely earn this scholarship; my friend and I were the only two students in third-year Latin, and she won it and then couldn’t go. 

I ended up on Prozac when the entire left side of my body went numb and unresponsive, which resulted in a trip to the ER, a CAT scan, an MRI, and an E.R. doctor who must have been one of the most perceptive doctors on earth. He turned to my parents and said “well, we’ve ruled out everything but post-traumatic stress disorder, so I recommend you find a good therapist,” and then later slipped me the name of one.

Although I am pretty sure it was due in large part to the Prozac that I somehow regained a toehold on life, emotionally I still think of Italy as the real saviour.  I was so out of things at that point (and it was such a rush to get ready to go) that it didn’t really occur to me that I was going to Italy, as in A Room With A View, until I wandered away from my pensione and turned a corner and ended up in St. Peter’s Square. That was exciting in and of itself.

But then a few days later, my taste buds started working again. I had been dowsing everything – everything – in various form of heat: mango pickle, cayenne, and jalapeno peppers.  I could taste tomato! I could taste bread! Of course Italy is a wonderful place for this kind of thing to happen, but I was literally high on just having a sense of taste back.  I couldn’t even eat much, because the sensory input was just too much. 

(I had the same experience with colour a few days later, staring at a Boticelli.)

Even since then I’ve paid some attention to what I can taste and I’ve generally found that there is a vague correlation between where I am on the depressed scale and whether I am loading everything up with chipotle peppers. Lately I’ve been stirring mango pickle into my bowl of stew, which isn’t a good sign.  Not being able to exercise (foot, plus scheduling) has been bad and the last week of icky weather so not many refreshing walks by the lake either has sort of capped it.

No plan of attack yet; just an observation.