By: Elaine Jackson
My view of my mental health journey has been filtered through two lenses: my own feelings, thoughts and experiences on the one hand, and my health care training on the other. And also, when I’m honest, through the lens of our culture: books, movies, newscasts, commercials—everything we encounter in our experience of relationships and “fitting in.”
In my training, we learned about the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual or DSM, which uses groupings of symptoms to categorize mental health “disorders.” It’s a blunt instrument, useful for clinicians so that they can suggest treatments, but not so useful when it creates labels or stereotypes that have a life of their own.
At different times in my life when I’ve struggled with depression, I’ve found the label is not helpful. For one thing, every episode has been different. Sometimes it’s a loss of energy and vitality that comes totally out of the blue. Sometimes it’s been clearly tied to difficult events, like the death of a loved one or a break-up. And sometimes it’s just a sense of dread or sadness I get when I’m reading the news. But it’s never just one thing.
I think we’ve got to stop treating depression as though it’s a personal failure. We have an obsession with producing and consuming in our culture. We don’t know what to do with emotions that aren’t conducive to those values or to our collective stories (e.g., work hard and you will prosper), even when those stories aren’t universally true (ask anyone doing a minimum wage gig-job). But feelings that get repressed tend to keep coming back.
Another story we love is that if we just knew the “why” of it, the whole issue would go away. I don’t think that’s true. There are a million possible “whys”: genetics, trauma, temperament, diet, lack of exercise…But mainly, we just don’t know. Having an explanation can feel helpful, but it may not make you function any better.
Some people talk about depression as a regenerative state where, like a fallow field, we take some down time to restore and recharge. Sometimes, for me, depression comes as a signal that it’s time for a significant change that will require courage to undertake, or that some time is needed to process a loss, or that I need to unplug from distractions and connect with more elemental things.
Personally, I think depression is also the mirror side of being sensitive, and the penalty for being willing to see and acknowledge the suffering of other people. Most of the depressives I know are empathic, creative, and funny. Many comedians struggle with depression, but it allows them to look at things and say things that most people wouldn’t say. They have the courage to look into the darkness and shine a light on what is real, and what should change.
In any case, a diagnosis is just a word. You are vast, constantly changing, and the product of multitudes of experiences and relationships. A diagnosis is a type of story which is useful in getting help and relief of symptoms, but it isn’t who you are.