Let me repeat a statement made by another blogger about the use of depression medications: “I would prefer to face my own demons with my own raw emotions unmasked by any chemical agents.”
Demons. I thought it was telling that he should use that word. Especially given that, in the past, those suffering from severe mental illness were often thought to be in the throes of a demonic possession. Likely, that is not what this person meant in using that term, but it probably suited his sentiment better than he’d intended. Look, depression — all mental illness — is extremely complicated, but it is one of the hallmarks of sciences in their relative infancy that they wander down countless blind alleyways before finding paths toward discovery. But suggesting that there is no problem to be researched? That is another matter.
I recognize that for someone who’s never experienced depression, it may not be easy to understand. For those without any desire to even try to understand, nothing I can say will convince them that depression is not just feeling “sad.” They have a host of ready answers to explain away my “depression.” They’ll say it was manufactured by the profit motive behind the mental healthcare industry, or results from my lack of personal fortitude, or that it’s evidence of trends in evolution that demonstrate that modern humans are unable to adapt their hunter/gatherer roots to sedentary lives and iPhones. Fascinating theories all. But I am not suffering from a theoretical illness. I knew of my depression long before someone in a white lab coat gave it a name for me. I have as much will and fortitude as anyone you’ll meet. And humankind has evolved substantially since we first learned to walk upright and make fire. I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey. I know what I’m talking about here.
It would be easier for many if we simply stopped trying to understand the human mind and how it works. Research into the mind raises all manner of thorny philosophical issues related to an understanding of the self, the nature of being, and, most jarring, the existence of free will. But I don’t sense that such that statements like the one above boiled over from a heated ontological debate on the quad between grad students. Such statements and the people who make them seem to be steadfastly against recognizing the physical component to our mental faculties.
As with so many drags on human progress, they all seem to be centered around a profound lack of imagination and curiosity. It takes some imagination, not to mention compassion, to try to understand someone else’s pain,. It takes curiosity to want to know why people suffer from mental illnesses and what can be done to alleviate the symptoms. To deny that depression exists, or to assert that it must be overcome through sheer force of will, demonstrates a failure of all three: imagination, curiosity, and compassion.
I’ve wondered before on this blog about why people would so brazenly dispute the existence of depression and surmised that it was because some people assume that their experiences with grief and sadness equate to what other people are calling depression. How narrow-minded it is to limit one’s understanding of other people’s suffering to only those things you’ve personally experienced! And how self-superior it is to suggest that people suffering from an ailment beyond their control “pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” It’s like running past a man in a wheelchair and berating him for failing to overcome his affliction through willpower.
They’ll tell you it’s not the same thing. They’ll say a paraplegic in a wheelchair can’t overcome their affliction, but a depression sufferer can. On what basis do people assert such things? Do they think I am lying and making up an illness to gain sympathy? How does that explain the millions amongst us who’ve suffered in silence for many years, only to succumb to depression by taking their own lives? The alternative argument is that such people are just weak and incapable of handling the difficulties of life. That’s fair enough, provided we remove the glasses from your head — no sense in helping you see better; clearly those with 20/20 natural vision are just better suited to life than you. Wheelchairs? Just a free ride for lazy people.
But those are “physical” problems, not mental. A paraplegic physically can’t walk. Someone who doesn’t walk because of some supposed mental disorder doesn’t suffer the same problem.
Because the mechanism behind mental illness is hard to see and harder to understand, the natural reaction of some people is to deny it exists at all and denigrate those engaged in its study as quacks, sadists, or snake-oil salesmen. All emerging sciences suffer at the hands of those without the imagination to see beyond what is known and gaze into the unseen world that lies ahead, waiting to be discovered. I think of Charles Darwin’s handwritten drawing of a tree with a question-mark next to it. We all know the slings and arrows his brilliant discovery has suffered at the hands of “skeptics.” But to be saved from a fortune outrageous, the science of mental health need not concern itself with ignorance masquerading as skepticism. It need only follow the indomitable will of humankind to surge ahead with scientific discovery and make visible that which was hidden only moments before.
As for myself? I do not relish living on the vanguard of medical science. Life would be easier if the tool I used to try to understand my affliction wasn’t also the source of that affliction. But I do relish that I’ve still sufficient imagination to envision lives lived in ways far different from my own. I am indeed glad that my own limited personal experience doesn’t likewise limit my capacity to understand experiences I’ve not had.
And as for the “depression deniers?” What of their incapacity for imagination? Their lack of curiosity? Of compassion? They might try pulling on those fabled bootstraps.
Let me repeat a statement made by another blogger about the use of depression medications: “I would prefer to face my own demons with my own raw emotions unmasked by any chemical agents.”
Demons. I thought it was telling that he should use that word. Especially given that, in the past, those suffering from severe mental illness were often thought to be in the throes of a demonic possession. Likely, that is not what this person meant in using that term, but it probably suited his sentiment better than he’d intended. Look, depression — all mental illness — is extremely complicated, but it is one of the hallmarks of sciences in their relative infancy that they wander down countless blind alleyways before finding paths toward discovery. But suggesting that there is no problem to be researched? That is another matter.
I recognize that for someone who’s never experienced depression, it may not be easy to understand. For those without any desire to even try to understand, nothing I can say will convince them that depression is not just feeling “sad.” They have a host of ready answers to explain away my “depression.” They’ll say it was manufactured by the profit motive behind the mental healthcare industry, or results from my lack of personal fortitude, or that it’s evidence of trends in evolution that demonstrate that modern humans are unable to adapt their hunter/gatherer roots to sedentary lives and iPhones. Fascinating theories all. But I am not suffering from a theoretical illness. I knew of my depression long before someone in a white lab coat gave it a name for me. I have as much will and fortitude as anyone you’ll meet. And humankind has evolved substantially since we first learned to walk upright and make fire. I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey. I know what I’m talking about here.
It would be easier for many if we simply stopped trying to understand the human mind and how it works. Research into the mind raises all manner of thorny philosophical issues related to an understanding of the self, the nature of being, and, most jarring, the existence of free will. But I don’t sense that such that statements like the one above boiled over from a heated ontological debate on the quad between grad students. Such statements and the people who make them seem to be steadfastly against recognizing the physical component to our mental faculties.
As with so many drags on human progress, they all seem to be centered around a profound lack of imagination and curiosity. It takes some imagination, not to mention compassion, to try to understand someone else’s pain,. It takes curiosity to want to know why people suffer from mental illnesses and what can be done to alleviate the symptoms. To deny that depression exists, or to assert that it must be overcome through sheer force of will, demonstrates a failure of all three: imagination, curiosity, and compassion.
I’ve wondered before on this blog about why people would so brazenly dispute the existence of depression and surmised that it was because some people assume that their experiences with grief and sadness equate to what other people are calling depression. How narrow-minded it is to limit one’s understanding of other people’s suffering to only those things you’ve personally experienced! And how self-superior it is to suggest that people suffering from an ailment beyond their control “pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” It’s like running past a man in a wheelchair and berating him for failing to overcome his affliction through willpower.
They’ll tell you it’s not the same thing. They’ll say a paraplegic in a wheelchair can’t overcome their affliction, but a depression sufferer can. On what basis do people assert such things? Do they think I am lying and making up an illness to gain sympathy? How does that explain the millions amongst us who’ve suffered in silence for many years, only to succumb to depression by taking their own lives? The alternative argument is that such people are just weak and incapable of handling the difficulties of life. That’s fair enough, provided we remove the glasses from your head — no sense in helping you see better; clearly those with 20/20 natural vision are just better suited to life than you. Wheelchairs? Just a free ride for lazy people.
But those are “physical” problems, not mental. A paraplegic physically can’t walk. Someone who doesn’t walk because of some supposed mental disorder doesn’t suffer the same problem.
Because the mechanism behind mental illness is hard to see and harder to understand, the natural reaction of some people is to deny it exists at all and denigrate those engaged in its study as quacks, sadists, or snake-oil salesmen. All emerging sciences suffer at the hands of those without the imagination to see beyond what is known and gaze into the unseen world that lies ahead, waiting to be discovered. I think of Charles Darwin’s handwritten drawing of a tree with a question-mark next to it. We all know the slings and arrows his brilliant discovery has suffered at the hands of “skeptics.” But to be saved from a fortune outrageous, the science of mental health need not concern itself with ignorance masquerading as skepticism. It need only follow the indomitable will of humankind to surge ahead with scientific discovery and make visible that which was hidden only moments before.
As for myself? I do not relish living on the vanguard of medical science. Life would be easier if the tool I used to try to understand my affliction wasn’t also the source of that affliction. But I do relish that I’ve still sufficient imagination to envision lives lived in ways far different from my own. I am indeed glad that my own limited personal experience doesn’t likewise limit my capacity to understand experiences I’ve not had.
And as for the “depression deniers?” What of their incapacity for imagination? Their lack of curiosity? Of compassion? They might try pulling on those fabled bootstraps.