Painting a Picture of Depression
In my previous posts I discussed the reality of depression.
In the article about Robin Williams we looked at an important quote that helped address the need to distinguish depression from sadness.
Today, I have come across a powerful piece about the realities of depression.
Today’s quote is from James Rhodes writing for the UK paper, The Telegraph.
When we misuse words like “depressed” something insidious and destructive happens. They become part of our vernacular, their meaning is diluted, it becomes much harder to give weight and necessary attention to those who really are suffering from depression. Real depression is something so serious, so life-threatening, so heavy, that it is more than disingenuous to bandy the word around lightly – it is dangerous. Robin Williams was depressed. He was so depressed he killed himself. Fame, adulation, money, love, commercial success meant nothing in the face of it. Like cancer, depression is an equal-opportunity killer. Unlike cancer its sufferers are too often greeted with a creeping sense of blame and suspicion, rather than compassion and horror.
Depression is like being forced to wear a cloak made of lead. You don’t get to choose when to put it on and take it off. It is a second skin which gradually seeps into your own, real skin and poisons it until you are a walking, toxic, corrosive bundle of infectious awfulness.
Rhodes is not equivocating. He’s painting a serious portrait of something most pretend doesn’t exist. Depression is, after all, a synonym of laziness and an inability to cope, right? Right? RIGHT! Amazing that people who think that are allowed out of doors.
Your two arms are imaginary because I said so. Now, are your arms still there?