Understanding Depression

A blog made me cry yesterday. A legal blog made me cry yesterday. I have been reading this particular blog, Popehat, for a long time and have always found it to be interesting, informative, thought-provoking, and funny. However, for all that I have come to expect undiluted awesome from the good folks at Popehat, I was not prepared for this article. It is titled: “Three Things You May Not Get About the Aaron Swartz Case”. This, for those of you who don't know, refers to one of the architects of the internet, his prosecution, and tragic suicide. I'm not going to go into the case here, but please read up on it. 

The first two-thirds of “Three Things You May Not Get About the Aaron Swartz Case” addresses misconceptions about federal sentencing and the idea that Aaron Swartz was singled out by our government. However, the last third talks about something that those of you who read my blog know I talk about a lot: depression. This is the section I want to focus on.

I want you to know, Dear Reader, that I started crying while reading Ken's description of what it is like to live with depression. To me it is spot-on. I shared it with a friend yesterday and after reading it he expressed a degree of shock that it is really “that bad”. It is hard for anyone who hasn't lived with depression to really grasp how “bad” it can be. I get that. I don't really expect anyone who doesn't live with it to “get” it in the visceral way. That is one of the most isolating and difficult things about living with a mental illness like depression.

However, I know that for me one of the best feelings is the sense that someone, somewhere, “gets” it. It helps me feel less alone and that, that is what I want to share with you all today. I contacted Ken over at Popehat and asked for his permission to re-post the depression section of his article and he kindly said yes. I hope that reading this helps anyone who needs that understanding today as well as those of you who are seeking better idea of what it is like.

What follows are Ken's words, not mine.

“The Third Thing: People Assume They Understand Depression. Most Don't.¹

The third thing people don't get is depression.

People think that the prosecution of Aaron Swartz must have been unusually oppressive and abusive, becausSe only a rare abuse of power could have driven such a brilliant and promising young man to suicide. People saying that may have been depressed at some point in their life — but they haven't experienced the disorder major depression.

I have. I've fought it for fifteen years. People — people of good faith, sensitive people, thoughtful people, smart people — don't tend to fathom major depression if they haven't had it.

Depression is not like sadness. Everyone has been sad. Everyone has been depressed on one occasion or another. But clinical depression is something else entirely.

What is it like?

Forgive me, but I'd like for you to imagine the worst day of your life. Maybe someone you love was killed in an accident. Maybe a loved one got a terrifying diagnosis. Maybe you abruptly lost a job you need to support your family. Maybe you caught your husband or wife cheating on you. Maybe you found out your son or daughter is addicted to drugs. Maybe you experienced some dreadful public humiliation.

Remember how that felt, at the worst part of that day? Now imagine you feel that way most of the time, for months at a time.

Think of the most stressed and worried you have ever been in your life, and then imagine that your stomach feels like that all the time.

Imagine that you are constantly gripped with overwhelming feelings of dread and crushing hopelessness — irrational, not governed by real risks or challenges, but still inexorable.

Imagine that you are often fatigued to the point of weakness and irritability because you can't get to sleep until late at night, or because your mind consistently shakes you awake at four in the morning, racing with worry about the day's activities as your stomach roils and knots.

Imagine that most social interactions become painful, the cause of nameless dread. Imagine that when the phone rings or your computer dings with a new email you get a short, hot, foul shot of adrenaline, sizzling in your fingertips and bitter in your mouth.

Imagine that, however much you understand the causes of these symptoms intellectually, no matter how well you know that you are fully capable of meeting the challenges you face and surviving them, no matter how well you grasp that these feelings are a symptom of a disease, you can't stop feeling this way.

Imagine that you have moments — maybe even minutes — where you forget how you feel, but those moments are almost worse, because when they end and you remember the feelings rush back in like a dark tide that much more painfully.

Imagine that you know you should talk to someone about how you feel — but you can't bring yourself to do so. Have you ever been so nauseated — from illness or from drinking — that you can't bear for someone to touch you or talk to you? Imagine feeling like that — that the human interactions that might ease the pain are too painful to endure, that every word on the subject is a blow.

After a while, this wears you down a bit.

I can't know what was in Aaron Swartz' mind. But I know this: if he suffered from major depression, it may not have been the prospect of federal prison that was intolerable. It might have been the prospect of thinking about the case, about talking about it, about the weight of people's concern for him, about the crawling discomfort of answering their questions, about the brutal fatigue of putting on a game face every day.

If Aaron Swartz had major depression, he might have felt overwhelmed by far less unusual or frightening stimuli. That doesn't exculpate the government. The government is responsible for an unjust prosecution. But the depression may have taken Aaron Swartz' life.

Depression doesn't look like you think it does.

Some people think that Aaron Swartz must have been driven to suicide by extraordinary treatment because he didn't act the way a depressed person at risk of suicide acts. They think, correctly, that Aaron Swartz was an extraordinary man: brilliant, very accomplished at a young age, with a gift for winning people over. That's not what a depressed person looks like, is it? Surely someone in enough pain to take their own life would be more overtly distressed, more visibly unable to cope. Surely someone who finds human interactions so difficult would not be so good at them.

In fact, people with major depression are capable of great things, including great leadership. Consider these:

Abraham Lincoln once wrote, "I am the most miserable man alive. To remain as I am is impossible. I must die or get better." Winston Churchill echoed the same reaction when he told his doctor, "I don't like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second's action would end everything. Is much known about worry, Charles?"

This is good, in a way: it means that depression is not an impediment to achieving great things. But it also means this: you might not be able to tell if someone suffers from depression.
People with depression become very adept at maintaining good appearances. Consider what this brave reporter wrote during her paper's series on mental health:

I have been hospitalized twice for “suicidal ideation,” most recently for eight days in 2009 with a diagnosis of “major depressive order and anxiety disorder,” according to my records. I take four medications a day and have my counselor’s name and number in my emergency contacts on my cell phone.

This will be news to most of the people who know me, family members included. That’s because with lots of help from my husband, a lot of exercise (one of my therapies) and medication, I’m able to keep my depression and breakdowns private.

. . . .

Most people with a mental health disorder are able to manage their illness, many so well that our disorders are invisible outside our homes. With the help of counselors, medication, even hospitalizations, we work, raise families, volunteer in our communities, run companies, hold elected office and go to school with little indication of what’s at work inside us.

And even inside their homes . . . even to those closest to them — people with depression can put on a brave face. Aaron Swartz' girlfriend believes that his death was "not caused by depression," in part because he did not show the familiar signs of depression in his last days. I mean her no disrespect — she has my profound sympathy for her grief — but she might not know, even if she knows him better than anyone. She might not fully grasp how he felt. That's not a reflection on her, or on her relationship with Swartz. It's a reflection of depression. Many loved ones will learn to see the subtle signs. For instance, my wife interrogates me when I stop blogging for a while. But being close to someone with depression is not the same as having depression yourself, and doesn't mean you really understand it. My wife is the love of my life and my best friend and a talented and remarkably empathetic clinical psychologist. But she doesn't fully get it, and I pray she never will, because she hasn't experienced it. Not everybody shows overt mood swings. Not everybody retreats from the world. Some people soldier on, their outward face may not reflecting how they feel. Many people with depression don't want to burden loved ones with the depth of their feelings. Many don't want to discuss their feelings because that human interaction is so painful in the depths of depression. And many are ashamed.

Shame is powerful. A ridiculous percentage of the population takes psychotropic medications, but there are still strong social taboos against discussing mental illness, and certainly against admitting to suffering from it. That, too, inhibits people from talking about their feelings. People worry that if they admit to depression, it will be used against them. Indeed, I suspect that this post will be used against me, if not by a litigation opponent than by one of my various stalkers. (Come at me, bro!)

My point is this: it's a mistake to conclude you know about how Aaron Swartz felt because you observe how he acted and what he achieved. It's a mistake to use Aaron Swartz' tragic suicide to measure the nature of the government's prosecution with him. There are many things to condemn in that prosecution, and further inquiry may reveal serious misconduct. But if someone suffers from depression, you can't infer things from their reactions the way you can from someone who doesn't suffer. It's very difficult, if you haven't experienced it, to imagine what it feels like, and even more difficult to imagine how it distorts your reaction to stress. I don't mean to excuse prosecutors. I mean to point out that life is complicated. It's entirely possible that, simultaneously, the government wantonly overreached and that Aaron Swartz' death was driven primarily by a pain that would have tormented him even if he had never been charged.

If people reacted to Aaron Swartz' death by becoming concerned with how the criminal justice system treats everyone, and by being open to discussions of how depression changes people, that would be one more way he left the world better than he found it.

(By the way, I'm just fine. Thanks for asking.)”

1Excerpt from “Three Things You May Not Get About the Aaron Swartz Case” by Ken at Popehat.

Thanks for making yourselves heard

Dear Characters,

I know that I bitch at you a LOT. I know that you have heard me say: “I made you, I can unmake you” more times than is probably healthy. However, I have to tell you that days like today remind me why I love you all enough to put myself through writing about your exploits. Today one of you reminded me of something really, really important:

Sometimes I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

I know this might be concerning, coming from the person who is presumably telling your story, and I'm really sorry. The thing is, I have known quite a few of you for a long time. Like any relationship...you start taking shortcuts. You assume that you know things. You label people. Today you guys reminded me that I really need to stay open and pay attention to who you all are.

I try so hard to keep focused and directed, but days like today remind me of how much this is a process of discovery for me...no matter how many outlines, timelines, and maps I ever make. People are complicated and it's easy to forget that.

So, in short, thank you for the deeply humbling experience of being reminded that I really don't have all the answers. Thanks for making writing like pulling hens teeth this morning so that I could keep asking myself what was wrong. Thanks for arguing when I am writing you wrong.

That being said...some of you are just plain creepers. Sorry, but I had to put it out there. Obviously this means that I am a creeper too, but I've made my peace with that. 

  

Addendum to Stalking Post ***trigger warning***

Hello Dear Reader,

So, something a friend said to me got me thinking about my previous post about stalking. If I may, I'd like to make a small addition to it.

I know that interpersonal interaction doesn't come naturally for everyone (myself included). I have personally witnessed and been the focus of attention that could be interpreted as stalking, but was never meant that way. There was no intention to stalk or “hunt”. What there was was: a lack of awareness about what was appropriate behavior, shyness, awkwardness, and in some cases a lack of experience interacting with people, especially of the opposite sex. I still know a lot of men who aren't entirely sure about how to interact with women and vice versa. Interpersonal relationships are hard, especially when you are trying to approach someone for whom your feelings are romantic in nature.

Before I go any further, I want to take a second to say that I am not trying to say that we should just write off behavior that is inappropriate because the perpetrator of said behavior isn't aware. I am NOT trying to say that a lack of experience or social skills makes harassing someone ok. What I do want to address is the fact that often people aren't aware that their behavior is being received in a negative way and don't want it to be.

I do believe that ultimately it is on each of us to to be aware of our behavior and how it impacts those around us. That said, it is sometimes hard to remember how vastly perception varies from person to person. What I think is funny might be hideously offensive to someone else. I worry about this often as I can be, as a friend said today, “unwholesome”. I replay conversations over and over in my head and often when we leave a social event I will grill Husband about whether I offended anyone or not. As shocking as it may be to my friends, I DO try and monitor what comes out of my mouth because the last thing I want to do is hurt anyone or make them uncomfortable. I can admit, however, that I didn't always have the awareness of other people to even think about that. It took good friends and mentors pointing out when my words or behavior were not ok to put some of that structure in place. It also took getting out of negative situations and away from negative people. How could I alter my interactions if my "reputation" was keeping me from having them in the first place?

I know a lot of people (myself included) who found themselves outcasts, labeled things like: “stalker” or “creeper” or “weirdo". Those labels, especially in small communities, got around and prevented us from being perceived in any other way. It can destroy your confidence to know that people have decided that you're creepy or weird, especially if it is only the result of stumbling in your initial interactions with others. First impressions are hard to change, but they are often so very wrong. Labels stick and can become self-fulfilling when those who are their targets aren't given the chance to show that they are anything else. I didn't get a chance to shake the "weirdo" reputation until I had left one school for a far more positive environment. I have talked about personal accountability in terms of being aware of how our behavior impacts those around us and it applies here as well. I know that I have wrongfully referred to people in ways that colored how others then perceived them, and that was wrong of me. It's something important to remember. Our words do have power and by even jokingly calling someone a name we can make that name the epithet that unfairly hounds them and further cuts them off from chances to alter how they are perceived.

HOWEVER, I will still gleefully label Christian and Edward as “creepy stalkers”. They are clearly hunting down prey and do not give a damn what the “object” of their desires wants. They are completely selfish with regards to their partners. Of course, as they are both richer than Croesus, they try to hide it by constantly buying gifts and claiming that they are just “protecting” their partners. It's bullshit, but, you know, that's what they claim. Lucky for them, their partners buy it. Although honestly...I say “lucky for them” but I shudder to think what would have happened to Bella if she'd actually refused Edward and meant it. I feel like nothing short of the Winchesters teaming up with Buffy could have saved her. For both Edward and Christian the intention is to impose their will upon their partner. It is about control and getting what they want. There is an intention to pursue until their would-be partner “belongs” to them. 

 

And yes, I know I brought it back to my issues with Twilight and the 50 Shades series. But the reason that I rail against stalking as a literary device is that I feel it is reinforcing a trend where it is socially acceptable. And I am not ok with that.

I hope this makes sense. I wanted to try and address some additional perspectives.

As always, all the love.

~E.W.

Insert youthful acronym/slang here______

Hello Dear Reader,

So sorry that I have been MIA. If it is any consolation I have actually been chaneling my depression into useful things like writing and running. I'm starting to feel better and am actually getting to spend a little bit longer each week outside the throes of depression. I don't care if it's two extra minutes a week, it's worth it.

Anyway, so while I was running today I was listening to music and thinking about writing. I'd already done a bunch of chapter work in the morning, so I wasn't really focusing on my book or the next scene I will be writing. Instead I was thinking a little bit about characterization in books.

If you had to ask me what was the hardest thing to do with regards to my own characters (apart from getting away from Sue traits) I would tell you that it is trying to be as authentic as possible.

What do I mean? Well, there are a lot of things that contribute to “authenticity” in my opinion, but the one that I was thinking about today was age.

Why age? I suppose some of this comes from reacquainting myself to some degree with YFIC. Before anyone jumps on me, please let it be known that I love YFIC. I came into reading it a little late (I was reading Stephen King before I ever read Tamora Pierce, for example), but it has a very fond place in my heart. However, I have found that a lot of authors (and I don't necessarily exclude myself from this category) struggle with writing children and young adults that actually sound or behave like, well, kids.

Three of my “main” characters in Dragon Touched are children 11 and under and I have to be honest...writing them was/is kind of a bitch. I like to think that I did decently but man, it's hard. And you know, that makes sense if you think about it. How many of us have winced our way through movies targeted at teens and found ourselves looking at each other saying: “No teenager talks like that!” Typically you get one of two things. You get “older” people trying so very hard to sound hip that their characters use massively out of date slang or pop culture references that make sense to the writer, but not their young reader. You could argue that fantasy would then be easier to write as you get to make up slang and whatnot...but you still have to worry about kids actually sounding like kids and not that dad who comes down during a sleepover and drops an obvious “YOLO” into a conversation. The flipside is you get creepy horror movie children who talk like miniature adults (think Macaulay Culkin in “The Good Son”).

So how do you find the balance? Eh...well, I am hesitant to offer “advice” on the subject...but I know what has worked (I think) for me so far.

I made a chart. Because I am cool like that.

I made a chart of my ages going all the way back through grade school because you know what? If you asked me what I was like at a particular age I wouldn't have a really good answer for you. However, I could tell you what I was like with more accuracy if you asked me about a specific grade. Looking at that chart forces me to think about how I would have thought at a given age.

It's hard to balance sometimes because, at least with my three “children” characters, they have grown up with an awareness of the politics of their homeland. They are largely treated as older than they are, which in turn has made them all act a bit old for their age. However, what I did try to do (y'all can tell me how successful I was or wasn't) was then combine that with realistic behavior for their age. They can't be mature all the time.

I was a pretty precocious kid and was told often that I acted very “grown up” for my age. However, I did my share of of immature things. I still wince when I think of the first time I met Kevin's parents. *facepalm* Yeesh.

 And it's not just about “behavior”, at least, not in the sense that people usually think of. It's hard to remember as an “adult”, but “kids'” minds work differently. That is just science. I say that having had a lot of (oh man this sounds trite) “revelations” about my past and certain relationships that I have had. There were some things that I just plain didn't understand as a 12 year old that make a lot more sense to me now. I'm not talking about math/science/SAT things (although please don't ask me to display my embarassing math skills). No, I mean “life” things. Ideas about love and relationships, family, the ideas of privilage and inequality...our abilities (if we cultivate them) to comprehend those things grow as we do. They grow by exposing ourselves to things we don't know, to people who we don't necessarily agree with, and by trying to see the other side of an argument. I was clever enough to fake understanding the other side pretty often growing up, but I have had a lot of “ah ha” moments in the past few years. Time gives us perspective if we let it, which is why it is disconcerting to read about a twelve-year-old spouting off wisdom like Master Splinter.

I think the other trap is that it is really easy for writers to use characters to...“correct” what we see as flaws in ourselves, past and present. I know that I was kind of a monster as a kid, so it would be natural for me to want to write kids who didn't give their parents Hell, right? This also has occasionally...disturbing overtones when it's patently obvious that a writer is using their work to correct what they see as personal injustices in their lives. They weren't popular, but their main character (a natural brunette, thank you very much, not one of those plastic blondes) is instantly popular and adored without trying.

I get the temptation to do that, I really do. The gods know that I am not even remotely a perfect person. I have made a lot of mistakes that it is tempting to correct with a few keystrokes. I've talked about how Wren used to be the me that I wished I was. Writing about her in that way taught me a lot about myself and about the woman I want to be, but that doesn't teach you, the Reader, anything about Wren.

It is so tempting to write our characters selfishly. Perhaps they are the people we wished we, ourselves, were. Perhaps they are the families we wished that we had, the friends, the lovers, the lives that we wished that we had. But it's not about us. It's about the characters.

I guess that's the long version of what I was thinking about with regards to writing young characters. As always it has exploded into something very long and rambly, and I thank you, Dear Reader, for sticking with me this far. I hope that as I continue to push myself to not allow my depression to rule me this month that you will hear from me more soon.

All of the love, as always.

~E.W