The Selfishness of Depression
This week’s column is taking a more
serious stance. I’ll try to summon my smartassery again next week, but for this
entry, I want to talk about depression. For a number of reasons.
First, it’s a subject that I’ve
become familiar with first-hand, from my own experience with it, an ex-wife’s
experience, and a few friends who suffered from depression, two of whom
committed suicide.
Second, depression – and misunderstandings
about it – were all over the web last month after Robin Williams committed
suicide.
Third, depression plays a part in my
upcoming novel 1684.
Two characters, in fact, suffer from
depression, to varying degrees.
Hunter Sage watched impassively as
the forest blurred past on both sides as he drove west on Durham Road, Highway
98 out of Raleigh, North Carolina. For a moment, he imagined the dramatic and
fiery scene that might result if he quickly turned his wheel and plowed his
Chevy Impala into the trees.
Hunter’s steely-grey eyes surveyed
the passing forest, taking note that several of the tree trunks were plenty big
enough to do the job. His gas tank was almost full. With enough speed, if he
made it count, . . . .
With a sigh and a force of will,
Hunter focused his attention back on the road in front of him and absently
rubbed his left wrist. The raised scars often itched when he was disturbed or
irritated, as he was now. He scratched the scar on his left wrist and switched
to the right one as he passed a slow-moving pickup.
While this introductory scene
indicates that Hunter attempted suicide in the past, and while it’s still an
issue, one that presents itself from time to time, he’s managing it.
On the other hand . . .
Even though it was late afternoon,
little light penetrated the blinds and curtains. Lily preferred it dark. She
knew that Parker would have a problem with it, so she planned to open them
before he got home. But she also knew that he was going to the bar with his
crew after work, so she still had some time.
The light just felt so harsh, so
unforgiving. The dark, on the other hand, was relaxing and welcoming. Lily felt
as if she could breathe more easily in the dim light.
It was all in her head. She knew
that. Many sessions with Jane, her therapist, had convinced her of that. But
that didn’t make it feel any less real. If she went outside, which she didn’t
if she could avoid it, the severe, burning sunlight pressed down on her with a
physical weight. She could feel that weight lifted off of her when she came
back inside.
While Lily hadn’t attempted suicide,
and despite all the medications she was on, she was managing her depression a
little less effectively.
Both Lily and Hunter were
experiencing depression which could be traced primarily to an external
stimulus. Many people, though, experience depression of a deeper, darker
source. Inside themselves.
Often depression can be traced to a
chemical imbalance in the brain, or other internal mechanisms which can make it
more difficult for the untrained to recognize. Look at Robin Williams, for
instance. One of the nicest, most kind-hearted and funniest people suffered
from severe depression. But he covered it with humor, internalizing it to the
extent possible, finally hanging himself.
And a few remarks about it in the
following days indicated the misunderstanding that many people still have about
this affliction. That he was selfish, that he took the easy way out, or the
coward’s way.
The thing is, selfishness does often play into depression, but not
the way these people meant it. Depression can make a person feel so sad, so
pained, that those feelings are the only thing the sufferer can feel or focus
on. Their self-centeredness is not something they can help.
With some, the pain or sadness is so
intense that death seems like the only way to stop it. I’m certainly not
condoning or promoting suicide as a viable way to end your pain. I’m simply
saying that I can understand it.
I’ve suffered from depression
myself, and while I’ve never been suicidal, I have been to the point of welcoming anything that would end the
pain, even death. Though I have a slight tendency toward depression, my worst
bouts were primarily a result of external stimuli, one of the worst being the
death of my son twelve years ago.
Having been there myself, I think I have
a deeper understanding of and sympathy for others who suffer from depression. Those
who have never felt the interminable weight of a sadness that goes far beyond
being ‘blue’ can never really understand what it’s like.
That’s why it’s still so common to
hear suggestions like, “Snap out of it,” “If you don’t like feeling that way,
then change it,” “Life isn’t meant to be fair,” or “Stop feeling sorry for
yourself.” These remarks, and others like them, don’t help. In fact, they make
the depressed person feel even worse, because they feel powerless to make the
suggested changes. Professional counseling, and possibly medical treatment, are
often needed to improve the situation.
If you or someone you love suffers
from depression, don’t wait until it’s too late to acknowledge it. Get help.
Contact your doctor, or connect with one of any number of groups and
organizations in your area that can help you deal with it. Or start with some
of these links.
