Just get over it.

"Just get over it".  A phrase I think anyone with depression has heard.  Recently I was reading some book reviews regarding a memoir that someone had written about depression and was shocked by both the ignorance about what depression is and the lack of sympathy many people have for the clinically depressed.  Scratch that last part--what I saw instead of sympathy from these people was that they actually felt anger at what they perceived.

After reading their responses to the memoir I felt compelled to write about some of the prevalent misconceptions people have about depression, hoping at least one more person might have a better understanding of what a friend, loved one, or even a stranger, is going through.

• People that are depressed need to "just get over it".  If someone had diabetes would you tell them to stop making such a big deal about what they eat and their blood sugar levels and just "get over it"?  Of course you wouldn't.  Yet if someone has depression we think they're just being overly sensitive and/or overly dramatic; the problem is "all in their head" and they just need to get over it.  The fact of the matter is that depression is very much like diabetes in key ways.  Whereas diabetes is a physical problem where one's pancreas doesn't produce enough (or any) insulin, depression is a physical problem where one's brain doesn't produce enough serotonin (and/or nor-epinephrine).  Treating diabetes is multifaceted but usually includes insulin injections to supplement what one's pancreas produces; treating depression is also multifaceted and usually includes taking medications to supplement the neurotransmitters that one's brain produces.  I think that some of the stigma of depression could be removed by simply naming it "low serotonin syndrome" which would quickly communicate that the issue is truly a physical one.  It's very telling that the same drugs used to treat fibromyalagia (such as cymbalta) are also used to treat depression.
• People that are depressed are narcissistic, self-absorbed attention seekers.  That self-centered behavior is a symptom of their depression as is the attention-seeking.  The deeper one falls into depression the more the outside world fades away until it means less than a half-remembered dream one had the night before; all that is left is one's self--and then only as an experiencer of suffering.  Even one's personality and the things that defined one's self fade away.  As one falls deeper into depression those calls for help will come across as attempts for attention, and become more awkward and overt as one becomes more and more desperate.
• People that are depressed have no right to be sad.  Depression and sadness are two very different things.  Depression is a biological/physical condition that prevents that person from feeling joy  (and even other emotions) to one extent or another.  Sadness is a natural emotional response one has to something.
• People that are depressed are ungrateful.  How can they be depressed when they have such a nice life?  Depression has nothing to do with the external world, or how bad or how nice one's life is.  It's like saying "How can they have cancer when they have such a nice life?"  The physical ailment is impacted in no way by how bad or good things are in one's life.  Even when things are "good" (relatively speaking) the depressed person is physically incapable of enjoying them.  It's like trying to drink a glass of water with your mouth closed:  no matter how large or how many glasses of water you try to drink, you're not able to swallow any.

Chalk Lines

There has been another school shooting.  There's no need to even name it as it's just another page in a book being written by a sleeping America. 

In the aftermath the usual finger-pointing and appropriation of the tragedy happens.  In lieu of soapboxes, the demagogues stand on the corpses of the victims stacked high so they can shout at the people around them.  Quickly the backlash against the initial appropriation happens and a new round of finger-pointing and character assassination ensues.  As the sun sets, new people rise to attack the attackers, and the discussion drifts away from the scene of the crime...further and further away until nobody can remember what it was that set this exercise in recursion in motion.

Outside of this group, but standing next to them, are the people that confuse facts with knowledge.  They scour the ground, marking bullet casings; they outline the bodies in chalk (ignoring the blood stains); they interview people and carefully note the exact time and location; with string they mark bullet trajectories to the holes in the walls (ignoring the blood stains).  Later on they ask for medical records, school records, police records, divorce papers, birth certificates; they spread out further and interview neighbors, relatives.  They'll take pictures of the house, of the rooms; they'll write down what tv shows they liked to watch, what video games they liked to play, what music they liked to listen to, what books they liked to read.

From the huge piles of data they'll set out to write their non-fiction novel noting every fact with mathematical precision.  From the morning noting what was eaten for breakfast...to the first taping off of the crime scene, they'll list out in chronological order the events of the day in excruciating detail; no stone unturned, no datum unmentioned.

In the end, they'll place their hand on their novel and pronounce "This is what happened".  As if the completion of their novel is a funeral, and with their pronouncement the casket is closed, lowered into the grave and with this ceremonial finality they are able to leave it all behind.  Deluding themselves with a sense of accomplishment and closure, they'll consider the case closed.  At night they dream on soft pillows, blissfully unaware of the next massacre that approaches from the future.