Can Red Light Therapy Help With Depression?
In my unprofessional opinion, it doesn't *not* work ...
I’m almost through my second winter in Portland, and I’ve never appreciated a 5:30 pm sunset more in my life.
My depression hit a low point (or, I guess if we’re thinking of it from the depression’s point of view, a very high point, like employee of the month point) in December, which resulted in quite a few desperate Google searches along the lines of, “Help me, I’m sad.”
And Google said, “Let there be light.”
I jumped eyeballs first into a rabbit hole of sunshine and circadian rhythms and which SAD lamp works the fastest. Basically, my suspicions that light equals good brain and dark equals not so good brain were more or less correct.
Too impatient for my impulse happy lamp purchase to arrive, I sought out more immediate light sources. Since the actual sun wasn’t an option, I turned to Lux Cryo and Wellness in downtown Portland. Their website boasted that their red light therapy machine could help with anything from wrinkles to cold sores, so I assumed it would also work on shrinking my depression.
Apparently, when athletes dealing with joint and muscle pain started using red light to treat inflammation, they noticed an array (yes that’s a pun) of other benefits, like glowing skin, increased energy, and higher libidos. Ooo la la!
The skeptic in me can’t help but wonder if those athletes felt superhuman less because of red lights and more because they exercise as a full time job.
But that didn’t stop me from booking an appointment for the very next day. After all, there plenty of studies that found red light beneficial to mental health. This one even inferred that red light works so well because it can shine right through your skull onto your actual brain. Huh! The more you know.
I’ve never used a tanning bed, but I think that would be the best way to describe the red light therapy machine at Lux. It looked like a cross between a coffin and a xerox machine. Under normal circumstances, I would be worried about getting claustrophobic, but, to be honest, I was too depressed to care.
The employee who helped me said that most people lay on the machine naked. If the building gave off more of a spa vibe, maybe I would’ve been more comfortable changing into my birthday suit, but we were standing in a concrete room with concrete floors and high concrete ceilings. There was no music, only the hum of the other huge machines in other concrete rooms.
Here, I made this video so you can see what it’s like:
On my way out, I asked how often people come in for the red light therapy and if they noticed any difference in their mental health. I paid $15 for my treatment, but it was a first time customer deal, so I was curious if anyone would shell out the big bucks to come in regularly. And the answer was YES. The receptionist said that during the winter, there are a handful of people who come in EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
So it must help! Or at least be a damn good placebo.
And who am I to say that can’t be the same thing?