Another reader addresses our depressed reader:
I'm not here to tell you to have hope or that it's going to get better. I am here to say that you are not alone. Sitting in our separate homes, anonymously typing on our computers, we have more in common that many of the people in our lives. I am a smart, successful, vivacious, attractive, very funny and clearly confident woman with many friends and family. I have endless support from loving people, and I know that I am deeply cherished and loved. If I didn't tell you that I had depression, you would never know it. You see, I am a natural optimist with a bright outlook on life … and I suffer from recurrent severe depression.
When I am suffering a bout of depression, knowing I am loved does not stop me from feeling too worthless to be alive. It's not about logic or attitude for me. It's a full body emotional pain that permeates every cell of my being.
Fortunately now, I suffer at a deep level for just a few days at a time, whereas a while back it was two years of suicidal depression. I used to pray for God to "take me," hoping I could will myself into death by slowing my mind and my breath. Each morning, I would wake up to a screaming suicidal mind, devastated I had survived the night before.
These days, my non-suicidal depression is being curled up on the couch, paralyzed, every limb as heavy as lead, thirsty without having the energy to drink, wondering when my inertia will pass, moving only to go to the bathroom (because hey, I draw the line at peeing on myself), staring into the bathroom mirror, looking for life in my eyes, finding none, wondering where I went and when I'll be back.
The purpose of my email is this: to simply tell you that you are not alone. I hear you, I get you, I don't have to empathize with you because I am you. We tell the same story, a horrible story, but we are not alone. There are countless numbers of us out there, suffering mostly in silence. How many times have I wished I had cancer, so I could tell people and they would say, "Oh, you poor thing, are you ok?" No! No, I'm not OK, I would shout back, given half a chance.
My hope is that this email brings you a moment of comfort, knowing that you're not alone and that this isn't your fault. Hear me? This is not your fault! May your pain soon pass, while you're still breathing, because you deserve the break. I thank you for being an inspiration to me.
Another takes a different tack:
How many hours did your depressed reader spend volunteering, such as working with/helping kids, the elderly or animals? Most likely answer-zero. How many hours did he spend working in his parent’s yard or doing chores on the house or cleaning the home to earn his living there? Again, probably zero. How many hours last week did he spend trying to make his neighborhood, town, community, the world at large a better place? You get the point.
What did he do last week? Let me take a guess – get up at noon, watch TV, eat bad fatty sugary food, go to sleep, repeat. No wonder he’s depressed. He sees his life for what it is – worthless!
Sorry if this sounds cruel, but if you feel you contribute nothing to the world, then you don’t see the problem with ending your life because it won’t matter. And you’d be right. How about instead of speeding up the inevitable he try changing his life so that it will matter? He might be right that he has no control over his feeling depressed, but to second a previous response, he does have control over WHAT HE DOES with his life. I understand it is a vicious cycle; you're depressed so you do nothing; you do nothing so you feel worthless; you feel worthless so you get more depressed. But at a certain point, no matter how hard it is, you have to break that cycle and try to fight for something better.
How about this: tomorrow take your parent’s lawn mower and go find the home of an elderly neighbor and offer to mow their lawn for free. Afterwards, sit and talk to them for 30 minutes on their porch. If he’s lucky he’ll get a glass of lemonade out of it. Don’t talk about yourself; listen to them. The day after, go for a hike/walk; the day after that, volunteer at an animal shelter. In other words, purposefully do things that will be missed if you die to give your life purpose. Which in doing so will make you feel better and hopefully, eventually, break the cycle.
A professional is on the same page:
As a shrink, I'm going to make some seemingly off-the-wall suggestions to your depressed reader, but they're based on our ever-growing knowledge of brain physiology and habit formation. He can fix himself; it is absolutely within the realm of the possible. But he won't do it by thinking about himself; he needs to externalize. Contra Freud, insight alone rarely solves much, and a constant focus on oneself and one's problems, especially for people who are depressed, tends to make things worse in the absence of concommitant specific cognitive and/or behavioral strategies for change.
His pain is palpable and as pervasive as his frustration, so suggesting that he NOT THINK about how miserable he is, but instead focus on doing something for someone or something outside of himself, sounds counter-intuitive and Pollyanna-ish, if not outright cruel. And yet… his neuronal pathways tending towards depressing, defeatist self-references have obviously been over-enriched at the expense of, well, everything else. So he's got to change that. These things are plastic, and literally grow or shrink depending on usage.
I would urge him to find a cause, an activity, something bigger than himself that he can think about, and expend real physical energy on. He needs physical activity directed towards an external goal; not doing something for himself (although he will be), but for other people, animals, the planet, a political cause, neighborhood clean-up – whatever. Once he finds that cause and starts working, setting goals (however small) to accomplish in that cause, and accomplishing them, the energy itself will build and grow, just like his non-depressive cognitive patterns. And every time he finds himself thinking negative, defeatist thoughts, he should imagine one of those giant red stop signs and STOP! It's another habit to develop, and gets easier and more effective every time he tries it.
Also, your reader who suggested smiling was also onto something real; let him develop the habit of smiling any time he starts feeling rotten. Believe it or not, it works.
I do wish this man the best and am sorry he was denied the help he needs, although I suspect whoever was treating him focused on his pain and his past, rather than helping him develop concrete strategies for a healthier present and future.
Another reader:
I have been reading your blog on a daily basis for the past five years, and that reader's emails stopped me in my tracks. This post, more than any other I have read on The Dish, crystallized for me exactly the type of community your readers have created here.
I have long supported the right of a patient to end his or her life – especially now, as my father is faced with a traumatic, degenerative form of Parkinson's, and things have gotten so bad that he can no longer remember how to dial a telephone. On the other hand, I am a middle school teacher, which means that my job is to fix things. I can't help but read those two e-mails – both of which break my heart – and say to myself, "I wish there was something I could do." (The fact that I'm listening to Public Image Ltd.'s "Poptones" right now probably doesn't help my mood, either.)
(Photo by Meg Scheminske)
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