August 27, 2003

• Depression.
  
  One of the things I've noticed lately about the people around me is that they're depressed. So I’m going to write about depression head on. I’m saying this right now because some of you might not want to read it. Some of you might rather not read a discourse on depression, and some of you might rather not hear what I have to say about depression.
  
  My ideas about depression are weird, but they’re informed by experience. They haven’t allowed me to climb up out of the feelings of depression, but they have shown me the value of being where and who I am.
  
  That said...
  
  
  Depression is your soul asking you to rethink everything. This is the most important thing about depression, especially a chronic one.
  
  The realities of depression are equivalent to turning down the stereo so you can hear what the lyrics to the song are.. You know about that? If you turn down the stereo and listen with headphones, the singer’s voice will pop out of the song. The singular and most important part of what you’re hearing stands out like a sore thumb because you’ve turned down all the confusing other stuff, like the guitars and drums and bass. Depression is the same dynamic; it turns down the volume of your life so you can hear the lyrics and know what’s important.
  
  And recognizing what’s important, and moving toward it, and holding it carefully so you don’t break it.. That’s the real challenge depression makes of you.
  
  Soulless people don’t get depressed. There’s a popular myth going around lately that we should look at depression as if it were a disease, or an epidemic. I think it’s just the opposite... If people were mentally unhealthy, they wouldn’t get depressed by the craziness of the world. Frequent and prolonged depression that doesn’t come from a physical ailment is a sign that the world around you is nuts. If you have a soul, that is. If you don’t have a soul, then I can’t help you.
  
  My depression, when I’m inside it, is a result of the constant offset between myself and the world outside. The world will always seem nuts to me, for the same reason that I’m always going to seem nuts to the world. Unfortunately, the question my soul asks in those situations is the wrong question to be asking. My neurology is off just enough that there’s no reconciling me and the world of people. Depression triggered by the nutso world won’t help me find what’s important, because that trigger will always be present.
  
  But. Be that as it may. In general, and for all people I’ve encountered, the real ‘cure’ for depression is not to cure depression, but to give in to it just enough, quiet your mind enough, give up hope just enough that you can see what’s old and non-workable for what it is, without ending up slitting your wrists or something. It's a careful line to try and walk.
  
  The problem is that, for many people, the reason they can’t allow themselves to be depressed is the same thing that’s causing them to be depressed. For instance, a hectic job that you really hate might cause you to be depressed, but you can’t allow yourself depression because then you’d lose your job to sick days. What depression is asking you to give up is sometimes the hardest thing to give up.
  
  And that’s why everyone hates depression. Everyone bad-mouths it, calls it a disease, prescribes little pills to make you not feel it, stuffs it down into themselves in hopes that it’ll go away, grins and bears it, and so forth. There’s no cultural space for depression. It’s like PMS, except worse, because at least PMS is somewhat predictable. Everyone wants their life to work the way they planned it, and how dare depression come along and wreck all that?
  
  But the truth is that in many cases, depression is your body and/or subconscious mind being wise. They know what they need, and they’ll do what they have to in order to get it. Maybe they need for you to sit around and do nothing for a week while they rest, or get used to something new. Maybe they need for you to feel the hard things you’ve been trying not to feel. Maybe they need for you to figure out that living with your parents is the wrong thing to be doing.
  
  I’m thinking about something I heard about a while back: Menstrual huts. The idea being that women who were on their moon, as they say, would go off and do work in the village menstrual hut. A sort of retreat for menstruating women, so they can work out what they need to work out, and the rest of the village doesn’t grow to hate them while they do it. After the period is over, they go back and resume their previous role in the community.
  
  Depression should serve a similar purpose, and be an opportunity to re-evaluate the life one is leading, to determine whether you’re doing the wrong thing, or the right thing in the wrong situation. The difference being that you might not come back and serve the same role in the community.
  
  Depressing thought, huh?

  • 2:17 am
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