Taboo...

Why is "depression" such a taboo word?

Seriously. People are so afraid of that word. I have to be very careful who I tell about my depression for fear of unfair judgment based on a word and the social connotations of that word, which takes any ounce of "me" out of their judgment of who I am.

And people that do know don't really get it either. How many times have I heard that classic response, "Oh, well, you know, when I get depressed, I just think about happy things and it cheers me up again." (Or some similar type of advice on how to 'get rid of my depression'.)

My speculation about the crazy taboo that is attached to depression has brought me to a few theories (of course, I may never get to any actual reasons).

1. Depression affects a person's mood and emotional state. And humans are extremely sensitive to others' emotions. We react to others based on what we sense about their emotional state, in addition to words or actions that a person is sending out. For a person not familiar with the effects of depression, this "depression-modified" emotional state is terrifying. A depressed person is suddenly unpredictable and dangerous. Their emotions are altered by a "foreign entity" that the other person does not recognize or understand. How then is a person supposed to effectively react and interact with the depressed person's emotional state?

2. People suffering from depression feel threatened by the outside world (whether justified by this socially-created taboo, or simply a product of the paranoia that grips a person suffering from depression, that's up for more speculation, of course). But we feel a bit less threatened by others who are also suffering from depression. And so we set up this sort of "in-crowd" of Depressed People. And this "in-crowd" is a very exclusive group; that exclusivity created by the fear of judgment and/or misunderstanding by the outside world. Don't immediately agree with me? Think about it this way: for those of you reading this who suffer from some form of depression, have you ever told someone that they will never fully understand depression because they haven't experienced its effects first-hand? And for those of you who do not suffer from depression, have you ever been told that by someone you know who does suffer from depression? Depression is impossible to completely understand if you've never personally experienced it. People can come close, if they've read a lot about it, or supported a family member or a friend who suffers from depression. Some people are allowed in the "in-crowd" based on amount of exposure to Depressed People. But you have to work hard to be included in this "in-crowd," well, unless you have depression. Then you have a free entrance ticket that's good for life.

3. Depression is often associated with suicide. And thus, a HUGELY bad reputation. Anything that would cause a person to want to kill themselves is obviously evil and should be avoided at all costs, right? (Um, remember that I don't think that myself...but I can think of many people I've met who would say that exact sentence.)

4. We are all afraid of what we do not understand. I think this is a big reason for the taboo...the fear of this thing called Depression. What is it? What does it do? How do you know if someone has it? How does you act around a person that has depression? What if you act wrong and offend them? Is depression contagious? Can if effect you like second-hand smoke affects a person? Is there something about a person that pre-ordains them to get depression? If so, what is it and do you have it? How do you know if you have it?

I guess there really are a number of reasons for this huge taboo about depression. And it's unfortunate, because it causes me to be afraid to use the word in normal conversation, lest someone hear it, realize I have it, and "judge me accordingly" (i.e. by the word instead of by who I am).

[And this in turn messes with my head. Topic for another post, I suppose, lest I digress too much from my subject: I've been living with my depression officially for 6 years now (unofficially, or pre-diagnosis, for who knows how much longer). And in those 6 years, I've been in counseling for 5.5 years. And every year I grapple with a new layer of my difficulty accepting my depression...and oftentimes this has to do with society's view of my mental illness.]

Really, this taboo will only disappear with education and exposure and acceptance. (How idealistic does that sound, huh?) People need to be exposed to the word, the people suffering from that word, and the true definition that word. And that word is obviously depression.

Hmm, lemme try something:

DEPRESSION!!!
Depression, depression, depression.

Depression.

DE-PRESS-ION

Depression...depression...depression...DEPRESSION!!!

Now, after reading that word a number of times, you feel just a little bit more comfortable with it, don't you? I know I do. (You also perhaps have started to think it's spelled wrong...which happens when you look at a word for too long...I know that's also what happening to me, haha!) And that has to be the first step for erasing this horrible taboo that we all suffer from. I sometimes wonder if "suffering from depression" should really be changed to "suffering from society's negative view of depression" because I don't feel like I'm 'suffering' from depression. I 'live' with depression. It's a part of who I am. And I don't think I'm a scary or dangerous person...why should the depression make me suddenly scary and dangerous?

Drastic Shift in Mood...ugh

It really amazes me that my mood can change so drastically day by day. Yesterday, I was bouncing off the walls. I was happy, I felt free and good about life and all that. Today, I'm tired, I'm down, I'm apathetic and unfocused, I'm unmotivated. All signs of that wonderful depression I've got going on inside. How does it change so much from one day to the next? I guess I can answer that question on the surface of things: there was sun yesterday (at least at the start of the day) and today there is no sun and a bunch of gloomy drizzling rain. And SAD is directly affected by the amount of sunlight I get. Sure, but having said that, I don't really fully understand how that can change things so dramatically in 24 hours. I guess I would think that the effects of the recent sunlight would last a couple of days and gradually wear off...but perhaps that's not the case at all... (Maybe what really needs to happen is that I need to read up a bit more on the effects of sunlight on a person suffering from SAD.)

This post will have to end here because I'm so tired right now, I'm falling asleep as I type... this is ridiculous.

Depression eyes focus on: fear

It's not that depression is a direct cause of everyday fears. It's not even that it intensifies fears really. Added stress in my life is the cause of that intensification.

No. It's that depression magnifies the irrationality factor in the everyday fears I deal with. It warps and twists regular fears into horrible fears that almost convince me that the worst possible thing that could happen will indeed come to pass. And those irrational fears create even more ridiculously irrational fears that lead to added mental stress caused entirely by my irrational "everyday" fears that turned themselves into little mental monsters.

FEAR

It's a powerful emotion...so powerful, I'm afraid of it. I guess it's like many other strong emotions in that sense. Fear feeds itself to create more fear, if left unchecked, just like happiness produces more happiness and anger brews more anger. (I say "if left unchecked" only because one can change one's mental state by stopping the flow of a single emotion...this is often incredibly difficult to do, but it can be done, nonetheless.)

No wonder, when I'm experiencing a depressive episode or just simply a "down" mood, I wish I could go hide under some coats for awhile until the problems disappear on their own. It's the irrationality infused into my common, everyday fears and growing into something ugly. And as children, we all learned that hiding generally took away the fear factor of a situation, and allowed us to try and understand from a safe hiding place. I'm not saying that depression reverts us back to childhood. We, humans, simply look for ways to comfort ourselves when we're not feeling the best...and often that search causes us to default back to former practices if no new experience has given us a better or easier option. Hiding under coats, or blankets, was oddly effective, wasn't it?

Ah, digression. Goes so well with my ADD. *sigh* Not that I really have anything else to say on this subject...just another observation through the eyes of my depression...

It's all another pattern, right? Then why can't I deal with it yet?

One thing I struggle with an awful lot is the difference between a depressed mood and a mere bad day. Or, closely related to that, sometimes I realize it's a bad day, but that triggers a depressed mood that causes me to shut down because the day has turned out to be a bad one...thus unable to get anything productive done with my day...sort of like giving up on that day and waiting for the next one to start so I can have a fresh stab at having a good day.

Whichever the case (today has turned out to be the second one), it's so frustrating! "Normal" people have bad days. Everyone has bad days. It's part of life...not everything is peachy and happy and great all of the time. Shit happens, and it happens to everyone. But somehow, it seems different when it happens to me. And I hate that, more often than not, I feel like I can't handle the bad day and mentally shut off until the next day comes along.

I'm not saying that I wish I could enjoy a bad day. Who does enjoy a bad day? I just wish I could take a bad day in stride and pick up my heels and keep going. I wish I could make myself not forfeit the day because things didn't turn out the way I wanted or the way I had planned. It's not like I have an infinite number of days to work with...and I've always been a firm believer in making the most of every day.

There, right there. That kills me. I just said that I believe that I should make the most of every day I live. So then, why this "give-up" attitude when the cards aren't dealt right? When my day is less than ideal? It's such a contradiction. And I have a really hard time dealing with that contradiction in my life. And it's the depression that does that. Makes me feel like I can't get past the whole bad day thing. Eats up my self-confidence and leaves me a shell of the person I've always thought I was. (And, still am! I still am that person, dammit!)

This is all a pattern, you know. So you'd think I'd be able to deal with it a bit better by now, yeah? The feeling of inadequacy associated with being "different" from the average person and so less capable to live my life. The feeling of worthlessness that comes when I find myself not dealing well with a situation. The feeling of hopelessness stemming from what seems a never-ending cycle of bad thoughts and pessimistic feelings. That DOWN feeling, that has no real name because it's a conglomeration of many different negative thoughts and emotions (including, but not limited to: sadness, apathy, lack of confidence, fear, feelings of weakness).

But alas, perhaps that's part of what this mental disorder does to a person, to me. It infuses me with an overwhelming sense of negativity and blocks out efforts/attempts to make myself happy again (or even "not sad"...I'd settle for that).

And now we insert the big *sigh* followed by the ubiquitous shrug of the shoulders that indicates I have no way to explain it all to myself. And this combo then indicates the end of my thoughts (for now at least) on the matter.

What depression actually IS (first of many posts on the same topic)

I went to a party with a friend this afternoon...a nice Saturday BBQ with a bunch of really chill people. The person who invited me is a friend of my roommate's, so I've gotten to know her pretty well. The sun was shining, people were laughing and having a good time, there was good food on the table and there were great smells emanating from the grill. Sounds like the set up for a great afternoon, yeah?

Wrong. (Apparently.)

Here's what really happened:
I was introduced to a bunch of people whose names I instantly forgot (not that big of an issue...that always happens to me...and is a topic for another post), I went through the food table and grabbed a hot dog, some out-of-this-world potato salad, and a beer. Sat down with my friend to eat. Watched people talking and laughing. Chatted a bit, but mostly listened to my friend chatting with people while I simply answered questions if someone talked to me. I felt a bit tired, but nothing that some good food wouldn't solve (I thought). Went for seconds. Couldn't eat any of it.

And this is where I started noticing something wasn't right here. All the sudden, everything on my plate looked hideous and I couldn't eat it. I couldn't finish my beer...it tasted awful. I couldn't pay attention to what anyone was saying. The world suddenly got significantly smaller.

And then it hit me: social anxiety strikes again. Terrific, I thought. Fan-friggin-tastic.

Let me tell you a little about myself on a normal, any day sort of day. I love to be the center of attention. I love sitting down and talking to random people. I enjoy meeting new people, and I'm known for finding new friends in grocery stores or on the T or walking down a sidewalk. I love being around people. I'm a very social person. I love having huge parties at my apartment with so many people that I realize that there are many people there who neither my roommate nor I actually invited directly.

And so, social anxiety is a crazy thing for me. So counter-intuitive, I have no idea what to do with it. How to process it, how to fight it, how to "control" it. It hits me like a ton of bricks and pretty much makes me seem like a useless space filler at a party/gathering.

But I suddenly couldn't talk to people at this party. I wanted everyone to leave me alone--or better yet, just simply leave for good. I stuck close to my friend to make it seem as though I was a part of a conversation, lest someone suspect something was really wrong with me--or worse: think I was just really lame. But again, let me remind you, I only spoke when spoken to. I didn't really laugh when something was funny. I forced a smirk, since that was usually all I could muster. I made the excuse of being tired today or feeling a little out of it all day.

But really, all I wanted to do was run into a corner and hide. How ridiculous is that???

----------------------------
Why did this happen today? What caused it to flare up as soon as I hit this party with all these people? And why is it sooo embarrassing that it happened? Why does it always still surprise me?

I know I'm prone to social anxiety. I don't get really serious anxiety attacks (of the general, not-focused-on-one-distinct-thing-necessarily, sort). But I know that these episodes can happen. So, the surprise seems a little out of place, yeah?

I also know that there is no real answer to any of the 4 questions. It is, of course, up to interpretation and speculation. But truthfully, no answer will really satisfy me completely. Because, ultimately, it comes back to that little chemical imbalance in my brain telling me that I have depression. And that, somehow, is both a soothing thought and a completely unsatisfactory explanation for any given behavior I'm struggling to understand.

It's all so frustrating! As I watched people interacting with one another, I got this overwhelming desire to be normal "like them." Because those people have a home, most married and starting their lives together. Those people can manage their budgets/money. They can do laundry on time, they pay their bills on time, they know how to manage their time. They are relaxed and enjoying themselves.

And I suddenly hated them all for it! They're all happy. They're all laughing. They're all chilling out. And I can't even manage a conversation of small talk.

This episode sounds so familiar, yeah? Trapped inside my own brain, blocked by my lack of the proper amount of seratonin. This is what depression IS. Medical journals, textbooks, people, teachers, books, TV programs: they all tell us the "definition" of depression. But this experience today is what depression means in my life, in my world. This is what depression IS for me.

Intro

Before I begin my chronicle of my life with depression, I'll give you a brief intro to how depression fits into my life.

My form of depression is called Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD. What an appropriate acronym for a form of depression, huh? In a nutshell, this means that I get depressed when there's less sun out. Winter is when depression hits me hardest, but depressed moments also comes when the sun gets lost in the clouds from an extended rain storm.

I have been dealing with (suffering from?) depression for 6 years now. I just finished my 6th winter with SAD. And my mantra, when it comes to my depression, is simply this:

Giving up is never an option.

The day I give up is the day that I've allowed depression to take control of my life. I am not defined by my depression. I merely suffer the effects of it. I've always seen my depression as just another piece of who I am, like a personality trait, or the freckles I still get in the summertime. And so I live day to day with my depression, and I am forever searching for a sense of perspective and a better acceptance of this mental disorder.

Depression is, in simplistic terms, simply a chemical imbalance in the brain. But to all of us who live with it every day, we know it is so much more than that, or at least it feels like that. I find writing about it, talking about it to be very therapeutic. And so I begin this chronicle, as a way for me to gain my own better understanding of my depression.