DON'T BRING ME DOWN - THE VEIL OF DEPRESSION

 

I've lived with periodic depression, to varying degrees, most of my adult life.  There are times when I've wondered whether or not it was "clinical".  Recently, I requested a referral from my doctor to a psychiatrist to see if that might be the case.  After two sessions with him, he concluded that I did not appear to be suffering from any particular pathology and that I would likely benefit more from counseling rather than medication.  The premise here is that my emotional state is based on my world view and that by changing my perspective, I could alleviate my symptoms.  Thinking about this, however, I began to wonder why the onus was on me to change my attitude and why my environment and the world around me had no role to play.  Why is it so unreasonable to think that the world really does suck?   Why wouldn't this be a fair justification for someone to feel depressed?  Why am I not allowed to feel negatively when the world around me is in a tailspin, hurtling into an abyss of annihilation and catastrophe? 

Depression has recently become perceived as a symptom of mental illness or else the result of simply having a poor attitude towards the world around you.  I never see any health professionals cop to the idea that maybe things in the world really are awful and that responding with negative emotions is actually a healthy reaction to an untenable situation.  We're always being told that we must have a "positive attitude" towards life, yet my direct experience of it is that this approach is more likely to create psychological discord than responding honestly with anger, frustration or disappointment when surrounded by situations where injustice, inequity, cruelty and criminality are the order of the day.  

I feel like I've been mourning the death of the world ever since I was old enough to perceive the fatal trajectory upon which humanity had thrust itself.  Nothing that I've seen around me during that time has done anything to assuage this perception that we are all plunging at terminal velocity towards an impact which will leave us with no out.  For nearly 40 years now, I've borne witness to one atrocity after another, stacked upon a mountain of madness laid down long before I ever existed.  

I can remember quite distinctly a day when I was no more than 13 when I was suddenly overcome with this sort of grief at the realization of the hopelessness of humanity.  It was the quintessential "existential crisis".  The Buddhists refer to this as the "trance of sorrow" and see it as a first stage of enlightenment.   But it also ties in with the classic description of the "five stages of grief"; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  When I look back over my life, what I see is myself going through each of these stages as I've matured and aged.  

What I've also realized about these "stages" is that they don't occur like people think, as discrete steps where one goes through each and then leaves it behind for the next.  It's not like passing through a series of rooms where each response remains distinct and separate.  It occurs to me that it is much more like the building up of layers, like when sediment settles at the bottom of a river or lake.  You don't move beyond these reactions, they just get buried under the next.  My anger is still present, but it's hidden under the layers of bargaining and depression that have built up over top.  

In my youth, I struggled against the inevitable finality looming off in the distance.  I latched on to idealism and fantasies of a future where technology and science would solve our problems and propel us to the stars.  Then, the angry young man took over, rebelling and bucking against the restraints of the society of which I was a part.  Eventually, I became a part of that system and tried to work within it.  Through years of pursuing a career and achieving some success, I felt like I could work out some kind of a deal.  As I began to slip into greater maturity and dealt with losing my career and my health, the depression took hold and drove me down into the depths of despair.  Now I face the inevitability of this doom and feel the sediment of acceptance, or rather, resignation, building up the final layer.  

Yet I'm supposed to "think positively" and be optimistic about tomorrow.  Despite the visions of doom and destruction that lurk in my mind and parade themselves across every vista I observe, I'm supposed to pretend they don't exist and that it's all going to work out somehow.  That is what is considered "mental health".  To me, it feels like delusion and self deception.  In my core, I know that this approach is a lie and the kind of stupidity which lays at the root of the cancer growing within our species.  I'm supposed to pat down that top layer of "acceptance" and smile while the weight of it crushes me, but what I want to do is dig up that dirt and uncover my rage and my denial again.  I want to rail against this acceptance.  I want to scream out my refusal to give in to this hopelessness.  

I don't want to feel good about this world because this world is a disaster and a crime scene and it needs to be called out for its abuses.  I don't want my emotions to be a deception or a mask covering up the truth of my existence.  I want to face it honestly and truthfully.  If I'm feeling depressed, it's not just because of some chemical imbalance or unfounded attitude.  It's because I'm seeing the sadness that surrounds me and I'm responding to it in the way which nature intended.  If there's even a slight hope of escaping this nightmare, it will only happen because people truly become horrified by what they're witnessing and are no longer willing to "accept" it. 

We shouldn't be asked to tolerate this.  We shouldn't have demands placed on us to be "positive" in the face of the desecration being perpetrated against this wonderful, beautiful planet and all the amazing life that resides on it.  We should feel awful about it and express those feelings. And if that makes some people uncomfortable, GOOD!  They should be.