Yes, but we need to get the OP in to see a physician to treat the depression. Not all cases are the same. Most cases can be treated. But it can’t be treated by surfing the net.
I feel sad to see anyone suffering from depression. For some people treatment is difficult. They see doctor after doctor, trying all sorts of medicines at different doses and combinations. But for some people one visit and one prescription can make an enormous difference, like a light switch being turned on, and I hate that anyone could be thisclose to feeling better and yet still suffer, when the solution is so damn easy.
Even if you decide never to tell anyone else, one trip to a doctor and one $4.00 prescription can make a world of difference.
I think you’re missing a word in there, like “sometimes” or “occasionally” or, in my experience, “reportedly.” The 2 meds I currently take to keep me upright for most of the day cost $180 per month with insurance, and the depression remains untouched.
I have severe treatment-resistant depression, and there’s no way I could hide it from family and friends (whatever those are) even if I wanted to. I’m completely disabled by it, and people start to notice when you haven’t shown up for family gatherings for 5 or 10 years. Since depression is not an uncommon disorder in my family, there is no sense of shame attached to it. It’s a chronic disease, just like my aunt’s thyroid disorder or my cousin’s rheumatoid arthritis. Sure, there are a few people who might think I should just pull myself up by my bootstraps or that I “caught” depression from cow’s milk :dubious:, but I’m not likely to enjoy hanging around with people like that anyway and I don’t let them affect me.
I did exercise caution about sharing my depression diagnosis with employers, back when employment was an option for me. HR people associate depression with absenteeism, so IMO it’s better to keep mum lest they heave you out on your ear.
That’s exactly how you know you need treatment. It’s normal to be depressed if your house burns down. It’s likely a chemical thing if you’re depressed for no obvious reason.
How would I feel? Well, first off I would admire the person for being so open and honest with me, and I guess I would feel a bit flattered that they trusted me enough to tell me this. My next thoughts would be around what treatment they are getting and whether there is anything I could do to support them through this time.
I guess I would also wonder if the person has been formally diagnosed with depression. I think the word ‘depression’ is used as a bit of a catch-all and they might have a different disorder, such as an anxiety disorder, that requires a different approach with different treatment.
The only time I could imagine having a negative reaction would be where someone repeatedly told me they were depressed, but they refused to seek any help, or to consider the full range of treatment methods available. That probably sounds a bit harsh, and I do understand that feeling incapable of improving is often part of depression, but I find it hard to sympathise with those people.
Exactly this.
I’ve been clinically depressed without knowing it, and it sucks. You’d like to think that the teachers and administrators in a high school would realize that a smart and engaged student doesn’t suddenly start failing classes for no reason. Especially when the student’s father is two years out of a divorce. And deployed half a world away in Desert Storm. And the father is on leave from that same high school as a teacher. And the kid’s guardians are his grandparents, both diagnosed with cancer after dad gets to Dharan. And the deadliest US incident of the war happens less than a mile from dad’s post, that for two days we feared it was his post, until a very late-night call. That I was sitting in my dad’s classroom–a room that had been part of home for as long as I could recall–watching an irritating and damned near illiterate scrub try to take his place while visceral reminders of dad were everywhere.
No, I’m not bitter that the complete deafness of my father’s supposed colleges cost me scholarships, honor society memberships, and admissions.
(I’m not bitter, actually. I cherish the paths I’ve taken. I’d like to think that someone should have noticed that it was all too much for a 14-year old to handle, though.)
My next major bout was in grad school. The stress was crushing, and I was crumbling under the weight. I remember receiving a letter over spring break telling me that I was accepted to TA a very competitive program. I let out a yawp, jumped straight up, and immediately went back to feeling worthless. Seriously–I had one second of absolute joy before starting to think about killing myself again.
I never got to the planning stage, but the ideation kept me up nights on end. Nothing better for depression than missing sleep, of course.
I went to my professors, ashamed and embarrassed. I asked them for incompletes, and confessed my profound depression. Despite my apprehension, all of them met me with sympathy. One asked me my treatment, another confessed that his beloved wife had struggled with depression her entire life, and the last admitted her depression as a graduate student, remarking that she wished counseling was part of the orientation of graduate students.
A year on medication, and I got through it. Went off the meds, led a balanced life, and generally did okay. Finished the Master’s, did a couple of years of scut work, and landed a real professional job.
Then I go back for my PhD, discover my wife’s having an affair, go through a divorce, a bankruptcy, and all of the happy attendant fun times. Seven years off the meds and I’m back in the shit. I spend almost every waking minute thinking about suicide. I pull my shit together enough to see a shrink and get onto a med… and things are tolerable. I ain’t happy. School is still stressing me out. But I’m doing all right, you know? My kids love me, and I love them. I’m able to provide a roof, food, and space. There are worse epitaphs.
And back to the original point to this story. A lovely and brilliant young lady who is a Master’s student in my department was asked to put together a presentation for seniors considering grad school. She asked me for my input, and I related a variation of what the third professor above told me. In short, more than half of you will become depressed, either situationally from the stress or because the stress triggers latent issues.
What sticks with me is look she gave me. It was almost like the sun came out. In a moment, I had given her permission to be overwhelmed, to be stressed, to be depressed. I gave her what that third professor had given me–knowledge that I wasn’t alone, wasn’t weird, wasn’t even unusual.
Now, my own diagnosis is still up in the air. Is my depression chronic? Is it situational? Only time and experience will tell. But for the OP I’ll say this: I had your exact same reservations about telling people. YMMV, but no one was anything but compassionate, supportive, and accommodating. If they aren’t, then fuck them.
Dammit! Colleagues, not colleges! The day I make a post without a typo I will surely go to my reward.
But look, you just did! Good on you, azraiel!
azraiel? azraiel?
:: pokes azraiel with a long stick ::
In all seriousness, I’d hear a statement like that with sympathy and compassion, and hope that my friend or relative was in good professional hands and getting the best possible treatment for something that is difficult and not at all shameful.
Thank you for the responses. Honestly this is the only thing that has ever made me feel “shameful” in my life. I don’t want pity from people. I still don’t know 
I’ve been on various medications including Citalopram but all made me feel like the shell of my former self.
Just seconding this.
I too have treatment resistant depression. I am the most proactive person I know when it comes to my mental health. In the past ten years I have engaged in a slew of evidence-based treatments and poured an obscene amount of money into improving my mental health. All of them helped in some way, but nothing I have ever done behaviorally, cognitively, or medicationally has been able to cure my depression. There is no cure. This is my life. I have a chronic illness that happens to be psychological. The best thing I can do is learn to cope with it.
I’m pretty open about my depression. Most of my family members also suffer from it, and severe psychological illness is par for the course. I try not to dwell on it, but I also am absolutely not ashamed of it. I strongly want to be a part of breaking the stigma against mental illness, so I’m willing to talk about it like it’s no big secret.
And honestly? It’s not. Mental illness is incredibly common these days. Probably half the people I know have a therapist. The response you would most likely get for revealing your big secret is, "Me, too!‘’
I would recommend them a good therapist/psychiatrist.
Have you two tried low-dose ketamine therapy? It’s shown rapid results for even treatment-resistant depression.
The big downside is it’s legally restricted in many parts. I haven’t tried it, but if I had no improvement, I’d give it a go.
I have to admit, my first thought was, “Which family members?” I can’t be the only one who has some family members for whom every headache is a migraine, every sniffle is the flu, and every blue day is major depression…
But assuming we’re not dealing with the drama queens or kings of the world, I’d want to know how I can help and how I should know when my help is needed. I’ve seen a black pit inside my own head, and though I’ve been fortunate enough not to fall into it, the depths of it frighten me when I get too close. If someone I care about has fallen into their own mental black pit, I’d just want to get them out, even though I know there’s little I can do.
It’s honestly not likely many/any people will pity you. If you went around telling everyone in your life most people would forget the next day and hopefully a few would be supportive. People might pity you if you get cancer or Parkinson’s disease but not depression.
“Welcome to my life, what can I do to help?” Everyone in my immediate family has depression, including me. (Well, mine’s gone away, but I’m sure it’ll be back sooner or later). Paxil takes care of mine because it’s just chemical. It helps my mom’s. My dad and my sister need serious therapy but won’t get it for reasons too complicated and annoying to get into. My dad has gotten used to the idea that he’s going to be depressed the rest of his life.
We have a member of the family who is severely depressed right now, and refuses to acknowledge it. Which only means she makes everyone else in the family as miserable as can be, with constant carping, backbiting, bitchiness, and just plain old meanness. She is revelling in it and loves swimming in her own self-pity.
Part of this is the Asian mindset - there are only two options. You are sane or you are crazy. Depression is not acknowledged, and if you are seeing a shrink you must be bonkers.
Part of it is just that she’s been fiercely independent all her life and now she is no longer and must rely on the family and it’s a bitter, bitter pill to swallow.
Doesn’t change the fact that she’s got everybody on edge because she refuses to acknowledge there is a problem. And what do you do for people like that?
I’d give them the same advice I’d give if they told me they thought they had pneumonia - go see a doctor!
My family has an unhappy history of mental illness; I don’t believe in messing around with this stuff.
Depression and being depressed about something are two separate things. the former is a long term debilitating illness, the latter a mood swing </sweeping generalisation>
I have suffered with Depression almost all of my life, meds do nothing for me. I learned to live with it, and treat myself with books, movies, music, horse riding, and anything that helped to lift the gloom.
A very dear friend of mine started to suffer from Depression and didn’t realise it, until I pointed it out to her. I gave a a stream of symptoms and she said “yes” to most of them. She refused to accept that it was Depression for the same reason as yourself “but I’ve got nothing to be depressed about!”
She did eventually go to see a doctor and was treated with meds. Sadly she also started drinking heavily and had a major breakdown. She recovered a few years later, but I’ve lost contact with her now…
I suggest you visit your doctor and get them to refer you to a therapist. A doctor will often prescribe whatever anti-depressant is ‘flavour of the month’, instead of the one that will suit your circumstances. Many forms of Depression can be treated with Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, or ordinary therapy.
best of luck to you!
I vaguely recall my psychiatrist mentioning it with considerable skepticism—and he’s very willing to experiment with unusual treatments. Since I’m being forced off of my current medications by my high-buck insurance company, maybe he’ll be willing to try it now.