(Ladies and gentlemen, this is a satire. If a person had actually written this in earnest, he would be a lot sicker than the extent to which he describes below. Only sociopaths who can feel the pain of no one else think like this. As I once reassured a friend, "If you're worried that you're a sociopath you're not a sociopath as sociopaths do not worry about whether or not they are sociopaths!" Black humor is used to illustrate the insensitivity and ignorance of people who should know better.)
Sometimes I fail to realize what a lucky guy I am. You see, I was born not only in the richest country on Earth, but into one of its richest families. In addition to being born into wealth, I was also gifted with looks, an IQ in the genius level, friends, connections, perfect health and popularity. You could say I had/have it all. This was especially true in school. By the time my freshman year of high school ended, I was already 6'3" and a naturally lean, but muscular 190 lbs. I got excellent grades without even trying. As for girls, I never had any trouble attracting the best looking. You could say I had a charmed life.
If high school offered me the good life, college offered me nearly the perfect life. Easily accepted into an Ivy League school, I made Dean's List every semester; on top of that, I was a champion on the varsity rowing team. Upon graduating, I didn't have to worry about job prospects as I already had an inheritance. A charmed life indeed. Then something happened. Shortly after graduation, I started having a series of melancholy thoughts. I would lie in bed for entire weekends. I would shun contact with my friends. I would neglect personal hygiene. I lost all interest in the things that once made me happy, such as time with friends, exercise, reading, traveling, etc. I couldn't understand what was wrong. I hadn't suffered any losses. I was in perfect physical health yet I was being attacked by these terrible feelings all the time. I started losing weight due to not eating for 48 hours straight. At one point I was down to 140 lbs. I had never been much of a drinker, but I was now drinking hard liquor early in the morning on the few occasions when I would actually get up before evening. I was always sad. I would always hear an inner voice telling me that I didn't deserve to live, that I was worthless, evil, unworthy of love, and that the world would be better off without me.
Despite having so much going for me, I was on the edge of taking my own life. I felt nothing but sadness, and the reasons were totally unknown to me. After all, I had never been in a war, I had never lost a loved one and I was in perfect physical health, so why was I feeling like this? What I didn't realize is that I had a sickness of the brain, something known as depression. What was I to do? I was too embarrassed to see a therapist; after all, real men don't see therapists, and guys who have had it as good as me, shouldn't be in such a psychological state.
Fate intervened in the form of my first cousin. His name is Nate and Nate has been through a fair amount of hardship in his life. His wife was unfaithful to him, and they ended up divorced. In the custody battle, he lost custody of both his children. Already, at age 41 he had suffered his first heart attack. On top of that, many of his initial investments had failed, which led to him having to ask my father for help just to stay afloat. He knew his share of suffering. Nate taught me something that every so-called "depressive" needs to learn: you're not the only one suffering! Nate reminded me that while I have it all, kids are dying of famine in Ethiopia, women have no rights in Somalia, people are thrown in prison for their political beliefs in North Korea and so many other atrocities. With that in mind I cheered up instantly. I thought how lucky I am that I am not one of those losers. Then I would really have a reason to be sad. As long as people are starving and suffering in the Third World, and I am doing well, I have reason to be overjoyed! The thought that I am not some kid in Ethiopia with flies all around his face and a stomach distended from malnutrition cheers me up in a jiffy! Knowing that I will never have to live life as a woman under the Taliban makes me realize how awesome my life is and how happy I should be! Knowing that I don't have a terminal illness makes me realize how much better everything is for me than for those sad sacks drawing their final breath.
Another thing that helped me overcome my depression is prayer. I had never really taken the time to contemplate matters of faith in my youth. Sure, my parents had me baptised as an Episcopalian, but we only went to church for Easter and Christmas, and religion was never a serious part of my upbringing. Nate told me about his faith in Christ, and I was interested. I started praying, and guess what? I started to feel better. The things I prayed for came true, such as finding true love, earning more money in the stock market, etc. I then thought to myself, "What a source of joy knowing that Jesus not only loves me, but answers my prayers!" Thank God I'm not like one of those pitiful specimens who spends all his time praying to Jesus, but gets nothing in return. No, Jesus specifically likes ME and answers MY prayers, unlike those other losers whose needs he is indifferent to. I am blessed. As long as Jesus is personally paying attention to me, and not others, I feel great. I also feel exhilarated knowing that millions of people around the world are living in horrifying conditions, but I am not! Such a change in my thoughts helped me overcome depression, and if you apply the same technique to your way of thinking, you can break away from depression forever, just like I did!
Thank you for writing this.
ReplyDeleteI remember when I was last in the hospital for depression and a therapist tried to use the whole "think about the people who are really dying in the other hospital wing." Strange as it may seem, most of us envied the dying and one of the younger patients had the guts to come right out and say it. I don't think people without depression realize this, but in telling us we're not that bad off, they're pushing a depressed person that much closer to suicide. I don't suffer now because I take medicine, but there was a time I would've taken those uninformed words as failure to acknowledge the pain and driven off to a solitary place with a sharp blade to hack away at my wrists. But, my last hospitalization was in Fall of 2008 and I'm doing pretty good.
Depression can be about life events, but for many it's about more than that. There's an emotion that defies description and the cause isn't necessarily obvious.
It's hard to say what could have saved the lives of great writers like Sylvia Plath and Virginia Wolff. I imagine their loved ones were at a loss because, without knowing the root of the pain, how are they to show empathy and compassion? When the tears have no end because the pain of the world is bearing down on you, no amount of comfort can ease the pain. But, if you can manage to keep living, the pain will go away, if only for a little while.
Clara,
ReplyDeleteI am glad you enjoyed the article. I had to stress that this is satire because if anyone took this seriously, they would be led to believe that the author is an absolute sociopath. I just wanted to draw attentiont to the ignorant things that are said to people battling clinical depression. Many people do not say such things out of a malice, but out of pure ignorance, however well intended their statements may be. My belief is that depressive disorders, unlike depressive states that result from personal loss, are biological, much like schizophrenia. No one tells a schizophrenic to stop hearing voices or to stop hallucinating, yet they say comparable things to a person whose brain chemistry is so distorted that he or she is thinking of ending his or her life. The main thing is to try to eliminate misconceptions, however haRd that may be. More people are beginning to understand that depressive disorders strike people who seem to "have it all." It's a sickness, just like diabetes, for example. The problem is that the person suffering from this form of mental illness is often driven further into despair by the lack of compassion and empathy displayed by people who should know better. I hope that I will one day live in a world where I will never hear supposedly educated people say, "Just snap out of it," or, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," or, "Think about all those starving kids in Africa," or, "You need to get off those meds; that's what's making you crazy!" or anything similar. It's very frustrating. I am grateful to celebrities who have come forth and have talked about their battle with this disorder. Terry Bradshaw, the former QB for the Steelers, is one such example. Despite his fame and fortune, Terry would often think of ending his own life. Other notables are former Sen. Gary Hart, Tipper Gore, John Hamm of "Mad Men," Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln, Brian May of Queen and several other highly contributing members of society. Also to be noted are the late Mike Wallace and the gifted American novelist, William Styron. I hope that this helps. Often comedy is used to convey a dark truth about our society.