Indulgence

William Styron, in my opinion one of the most gorgeous voices in the world of American fiction, wrote an equally captivating non fiction account of his profound struggle with Depression in a painful memoir entitled Darkness Unveiled. It is not light reading, but as only he could do, he designed a piece of art through words attempting to illustrate an abstract malady in terms that those who have not suffered could grasp, while at the same time trying to grapple with it himself. And he does it with beauty, force, and an almost incomprehensible ability at self reflection. It's easier not to reflect, but William Styron had no choice.

I don't have Styron's cerebral cortex, or his incredible gift with words, but I do share the illness that consumed his life. I entitled this piece "Indulgence" because while emotionally I know what Styron was feeling, intellectually it's embarrassing and almost shameful to focus so much on my "feelings." In fact, I will always default to the intellectual...until the feelings begin to consume my very essence. That push and pull has become a hallmark of my life, in fact.

Being Depressed is not a state that anyone would choose. Why would they? I use a capital "D" when I write about Depression because it's real. I'm somewhat smart. I understand that people cannot quite understand an illness they cannot identify easily...any illness that manifests itself in behavior is always suspect. But I'm the type of person who needs to know. I can and have tried to dismiss it. But it's bigger than me.

Imagine trying to run through a pile of mud, with the wind blowing directly against your body. That's what Depression feels like. Simple tasks become Olympic feats. You have to congratulate yourself for accomplishing the most basic, normal day to day routines. And sometimes you cannot even manage those.

I'm writing this piece because I understand how invisible this illness is. I refer to it as "Psychic Pain," because there's nothing physically broken. And as a result, it's not real to so many. I hate the term "Mental Illness," because it is so loaded with judgement, as if ones brain is disconnected from their physical body. No one would tell a person with two broken legs to run a Marathon, but when it comes to Depression we are supposed to just snap out of it.

So I indulged. We are way behind the curve on this issue. I've taught Psychology for over two decades and I KNOW there is more that we can do. I KNOW that research has shown that there are doctors who can do better, if they choose to do better. And I hope that if some stray person reads this post and is profoundly sad, know that it's not your fault. You have an illness, and one you should never be ashamed about. Styron grappled with it, and he paid a heavy price. But at least he tried.