According to the World Health Organization (WHO), depression is the leading cause of disability worldwide.1 In 2017 alone, the National Institute of Mental Health estimates that 17.3 million Americans over the age of 18 suffered at least one major depressive episode that year.2 Employing a bit of mathematics, that’s one out of every twelve adults in the US, which means it is likely you know one or more persons suffering from depression at any one time. (And maybe more so as the US continues its skirmish with the Covid-19 pandemic.3)
I’m not sure how many people know, or suspect, I have MDD. There are only a few people I openly speak to about it. Not out of embarrassment or shame, but simply because it’s not something I often want to talk about. When I see or talk to people, I want to enjoy myself, and blathering about my depression isn’t my idea of a good time. That notwithstanding, it is important to discuss from time to time, not only because one should, but because it helps people to better understand me. For I’ve found, if you haven’t experienced a depressive episode, it is very difficult to understand someone who has.
Depression can be frustratingly crippling. It permeates nearly every aspect of one’s life. It affects you mentally and physically, wreaking havoc on mind, body, and soul. In essence, depression can lock you in a personal prison from which it can be difficult to escape. My goal today is to convey to you just how crippling it can be.
At this point, you feel slightly embarrassed. Your entire party walked this same path yet you’re the only one who stepped in it. You consider yelling out for help but realize that might be overly reactionary. “Okay,” you think to yourself, “this is no big deal. I’ve been in scrapes in my life and I’ve navigated my way out of them. How different can this be?” Yet, no matter how much effort you put in or what tactics you employ, you sink deeper.
Eventually, you begin to panic. You know wriggling around only makes it worse but you can’t help yourself. With the quicksand up to your knees, things are starting to become unbearable. Finally, you call out. A few members of the group hear you and wander back. At first they’re confused about the situation. They have no idea how you’ve gotten yourself into this mess, and moreover, having never been caught in quicksand, they have no idea how to help. Some offer words of encouragement:
“You’re a strong person, I know you’ll get through this.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to. I’ve seen you do it.”
Others say rather different things:
“I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“Look around you. Everywhere you look there are things you can grab onto. Just pull yourself out.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
In different circumstances, these things might be helpful, but considering you’re up to your hips in quicksand, they are not. You understand that, in their own way, each person is trying to be helpful. Nonetheless, you’re sinking, and hope is waning. Your head tells you to scream out, “Why the @#&!$ are you all just standing there? Help me!!!” but your heart says, “Let the people go on ahead. They have busy lives to lead and it would be unfair of you to burden them with your silly insecurities.” And, without being specifically asked for assistance, that’s what they do.
I cannot picture the future. When I look ahead there is nothing. Not even a blank canvas that I hope to fill with my dreams and desires. I imagine when others look ahead, they see themselves walking/living beside a significant other, making a change in the world, growing contentedly old. But I see nothing. There is no future. It’s just today and tomorrow and they look exactly the same. Nothing exciting, interesting, or hopeful exists in either day. No matter how hard I try, I can paint no portrait of the future me. It’s simply black on black, void of anything good or decent. And that is what I have left to look forward to. To most of you, that probably sounds sad and pathetic, but for me, it's worse than that. It’s heartbreaking. I don’t want it to be that way, it just is. That is what each day is like for me; a futile attempt to discover meaning in the nothingness of my life.
For an even shorter summary, watch this 10 second clip from the movie People Places Things starring Jemaine Clement.*#
- Feelings of sadness or hopelessness
- Anger, frustration, or irritability
- Lack of interest in normal activities (even those they enjoy)
- Sleep issues (either lack or excess of)
- Lack of energy and motivation
- Weight gain or loss
- Anxiety or restlessness
- Feelings of worthlessness, guilt, or self-blame
- Trouble with mind-related tasks: memory, concentration, focus
- Thoughts of suicide or self-harm
- Seemingly unrelated physical issues4
1 https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/depression
2 https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/statistics/major-depression.shtml
3 https://www.massgeneral.org/news/coronavirus/depression-on-rise-during-covid-19
4 https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/depression/symptoms-causes/syc-20356007
5 https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/depression/diagnosis-treatment/drc-20356013
6 https://www.healthline.com/health/can-you-cure-depression#7
* People Places Things, a 2015 Beachside Films Production, Written & Directed by Jim Strouse
# Very few of you have seen this movie. Watch it. It’s good. You can trust me. I don’t know much, but I know movies. And, if you like this one, contact me. I would be overjoyed to provide you with other titles you might want to check out.