Myths of Depression

Okay, so I have been a bit "quiet" the last few days, or whatever the blog version of "quiet" is. Here it is: I suffer from depression. Actually, "suffer" isn't really the correct word. Some days, "depression" is just a word that I write on a medical history form. On other days, it's this horrible feeling that takes over my life and sends me crawling into bed with the covers over my head.

I have tried to explain to people what this feels like, and I have not been able to adequately put words to the feeling, so here is the closest that I can come to describing it: For those of you who have read/seen Lord of the Rings, think "Frodo on Mt. Doom." For those of you for whom this reference is meaningless, think about running a marathon, or working at an intensely-physically-exhausting job for about 12 hours. Now imagine how you might feel after that. Got it? Okay, now imagine feeling like that all of the time, no matter what you do or how much rest you have had. Now try to live your life accompanied by this feeling (and I am not even going into the emotional symptoms here).

But I am not posting this because I want anyone to feel sorry for me, or to worry about me. Far from it: I have dealt with this disorder for more than 20 years now, and I have built up both medical and social supports for when it gets really bad. I like to tell people about it because despite all of the information that is out there about depression, many people still have a warped view of it, what it is, and how it needs to be treated.

I once had an information sheet that had "50 worst things to say to people who are depressed." I have since found a net site that has both worst and best things to say to someone who is depressed: http://thewellspring.com/Journal/JWT/worstbestdepressed.html

Although my close friends are very understanding, I have still endured some of the more ridiculous and uninformed reactions that are listed at this site. One of the most irritating things that happened to me was when a well-meaning college roommate gave me this religious magazine that had an article in it about how depression is a sign that you have sinned against God. Sheesh. I am already deeply depressed, and someone gives me this thing on how I have somehow offended the Almighty. That'll cheer me right up.

Anyway, some other reactions that I have received have been: "You just need to push yourself harder" (this was from a physician when I first started experiencing the symptoms and had no idea what was going on), "you need vitamins," and "take an aspirin and go to bed" (from family members) and various versions of "stop dwelling on it and you'll feel better."

But the truth is that depression can be a life-threatening condition. I lost a friend to it in 2004, and believe me, I can still hear the voice of another friend delivering the news, I can see the office where I was working at the time, and I can still feel the gut-punched shock that lasted for weeks. It's been three years, and I still have trouble talking about it, and there are still things that I associate with my friend that can trigger my grieving as if it happened yesterday. As time goes on, they are fewer and farther apart, but losing a friend to suicide has probably been the most heartbreaking event in my life, and the healing process has been long and painful for me.

The political activist in me really wants to spread the word on this. Unfortunately, even though we may have all kinds of advertising on what depression is, and which pill you can take for it, there are still many misconceptions in the general public as well as the medical profession about what depression is, and what it is not. Once, when I was taking a physical for a job at a hospital, the phyisican came and spoke to me about being depressed and whether or not it would affect my job. I explained the usual: I have had it for many years, I work closely with a psychiatrist and a therapist, etc. etc. The guy still wanted me to get a note from my psychiatrist assuring the hospital that it was okay for me to work there. The ironic thing about this is that my medical history also listed a back injury from a car accident a couple of years ago, and the doctor didn't even ask about that. Luckily, the injury was not serious and was well-healed, but for all the doctor cared to find out, I could have limped into the occupational health office and been on lifting restrictions. Anyone who is even remotely familiar with the nursing profession knows how important it is to remain in at least decent physical shape.

Of course, it was also ironic that I needed a note from my doctor to assure the hospital that I wasn't too crazy to work in a busy metropolitan ER.