A Blog on Depression

Hey guys,

So for the past week, since Robin William's death, I've been debating with myself whether or not to do this blog post, but after seeing this article, I definitely wanted to do this. The article discusses how we shouldn't say that Robin Williams and other depressed peoples have died from suicide. What we should say is that they died from depression. Just like how we don't say that someone has died from a 'pulmonary embolism', we say they died from cancer. Because, like cancer, depression is a disease that nobody chooses or wants to have. This article spoke out to me so powerfully about this. Depression is not taken as seriously as it should. You should definitely give it a read; it's very short and infinitely more eloquent than me. Anyway, as a result, here are some of my thoughts on this mental illness.


Number One: Depression is Everywhere
One in five people aged 16 to 85 will experience depression at one stage of their lives. One in five. That's a lot of people. If every household was a traditional nuclear family, that's nearly one person per household. Think about your grade in high school or even a Uni lecture with 200 people. That's 40 people who either have had or will have depression. That's a lot. That's too many.

It may seem like a bit of a stretch, but when you think about it, it actually does make sense, I've had depression on two separate occasions in 2012 and 2013. And I've talked to a lot of people who have had it as well. It's actually very common, more so than I could have ever imagined when I first got it in 2012. Maybe if I knew then how common it is, I wouldn't have rejected the notion of seeking help so readily. But there's a social stigma that hides the fact that depression is so common. Which brings me to my next point...


Number Two: Depression is Invisible
There is no physical thing that we can trace depression to; no lump we can feel and no mole we can see growing bigger. It's a mental illness, and because of that, it's not just hard to diagnose, not just hard to treat and monitor, but it's hard to accept.

Sure, there has been research to show that depression may have a link to how our brains are mapped out, with depressed people having smaller hippocampi than so-called normal people, but it's still very wishy-washy. While some people are genetically predisposed to depression, others get depression from environmental influences or a lot of stress.

It's also hard to determine causality; does negative thinking change our brain to result in depression, or do brain abnormalities result in depression that then causes negative thinking? It's very hard to test these things empirically because it's a mental illness, and everyone has a different reason of cause.

It's sad that some people have to rely on evidence that suggests that depression can be pinpointed to one area of our brain to accept that it is a disease, but that's the reality. It's invisible. And it's difficult to swallow. But that shouldn't mean we should reject it, because...


Number Three: Depression is Real
Very real.

Maybe this doesn't come as much of a surprise to some, but this is really important to me. I was raised by two very traditional Christians who made me grow up believing in God but not believing in mental illness or even the credibility of psychologists. I was raised up by a Hollywood society that taught me that you had to be crazy to see a psychologist, and when you did, you didn't really have a disease anyway because everything would be better after lying on a couch and talking about your 'feelings'.

Of course not all Christians are like my parents, and of course not all movies are wrong about psychologists. But I grew up with the mentality that depression was a stupid excuse for people who were just thinking negatively or being over dramatic. Because I thought depression only came if you were traumatised, and that if you weren't, well there was no reason to be depressed.

Until, of course, reality hit me. Hard. With none other than, ironically, depression itself. I was stressed from HSC, moving churches, my parents' financial issues, not being able to afford tutors and teaching myself absolutely everything (even 4 unit maths). And before I knew it, I wanted to kill myself every single day for five months. I was so confused, and that was why I stopped believing in God.

I couldn't bring myself to keep loving and believing in this so-called all-powerful, all-knowing God who would just sit there while I had thoughts of killing myself. Still now, having gone back to Christianity, I'm more confused than ever. Still I don't understand how this could be so prevalent and real. While I find some sort of comfort in praying or reading poetic psalms, I still question why a God would let this happen. Now I don't have the answers, and I frankly don't think anyone does, but I've come to accept mental illnesses for what they are. I've also come to realise my unquenchable desire and passion to raise awareness for them and to help victims of them. I understand what it's like to go through it, and I can honestly say...


Number Four: Depression Sucks
Now there's a lot of arguments on Robin Williams and any other person who suicides from depression being selfish. That it's selfish to suicide and leave the rest of your family to mourn. While yes, it kind of is selfish, you also need to understand the illness.

It's hard to explain, but when I'm not depressed, like right now, I can't imagine wanting to die, let alone killing myself. But, I used to. Twice. In 2012 for five months and in 2013-2014 for (thank God) only two months.

When you're depressed and suicidal (and of course not everyone who is depressed is suicidal and not everyone who is suicidal is depressed; check the DSM (any version probably)), there is nothing more prevalent than the pain you feel.

Because I can't explain this properly, here is a comparison. There's a plant called the Gympie Gympie thats poison is so painful, that when a man accidentally used it as toilet paper, he ended up shooting himself. It's everything from humorous to tragic, but it's definitely not selfish. Why? Because we understand that the pain was so unbearable that the man had to shoot himself to end it. Or what about the comparison of spies being captured and suiciding before they can be tortured? It's understandable and definitely not selfish because they're given a cyanide pill in the first place. But because these are physical examples, it's understandable. Once you turn to a mental example, it's hard to believe. And I understand that, because, like I said, it's hard to see and hard to accept.

Depression also sucks because it changes who you are. A lot of people say that they loved high school, and despite HSC they had a lot of great memories of year 12. I honestly cannot say that. In fact, I hated school because when I think about school, all I can think of is getting depression in year 12. And even though that was only for 5 months, not even half a year, I can't think about any other thing in that year except for the depression. AND, even when I DO think about it, I can't remember what happened. It honestly was just a huge blur of emptiness, loneliness and crying myself to sleep. While I was at times genuinely happy when I saw my friends at school or when I went out when I had free time, some of the time it was just a distraction, and there was still an underlying ache of loneliness in me that didn't go away. Even if I was happy for one moment, I would come home to realise how truly lonely I felt again. It really sucked, that kind of life, because I can't even remember what I did in those five months. It's as if I had amnesia and those 5 months were wiped away leaving only a faint and blurred dream behind.

Another thing that makes depression suck is that it's a constant cycle. After I survived depression in 2012 I was fine for over another year, until December 2013 when I got it back again. It's like cancer, where's it just a cycle of treatment, then remission, then it coming back. While my second experience of depression was only for two months, it sucked so much because I realised that I hadn't completely escaped it. And I didn't even know why I was getting it. I hadn't been that stressed out; if anything I wasn't even stressed out at all because Uni had already finished, and I was enjoying my holidays. I was so confused, and I had to come to terms with the potential for this to be a chronic struggle for me and a lot of others worldwide to face.


So overall, I guess why I wanted to write this post was because I hated how someone had to die for everyone to take depression just a bit more seriously. I hate how someone had to die for some to raise awareness for depression, for some to donate to organisations that help fund research and treatment for depressed people. I hate how some one had to die for me to write this post. It sucks how in high school you get told to put on sunscreen to avoid skin cancer, wear a condom to avoid STDs or avoid junk food to prevent Type 2 Diabetes, but there's no emphasis on mental illnesses. No education on what they are, how they are caused, what are the signs to look out for, how to help and talk to a friend about it, and, most importantly, that it's normal. And that there's nothing to be ashamed of. It sucks to see people calling depressed people attention-seeking, or selfish, or over dramatic. It sucks that my mum told me she doesn't believe I ever had depression, because when have I ever suffered in my life? It sucks that my mum thinks that psychologists only see crazy and dangerous people so much so that I'm terrified of telling her I've seen a psychologist on a regular basis.

It sucks to see depression so prevalent and yet so invisible, like an omnipresent evil spirit sucking the joy out of Earth. I've realised my passion for mental illnesses and my passion to change the world, and while I understand that there's never going to be a world free of war, cancer and suicide, if I could just reach out to one person or get people to just think about it through this post, then I'm happy.