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Norton wrote:
A sane and rational person finds the idea of being committed for what ultimately can be categorized as "bad thoughts" to be abhorrent. Are not my thoughts my own? Should I not have the right to make my own decisions based on the evidence? After all, suicide _is_ sometimes a rational option.
With someone who is suffering from major depression, it is different. To be blunt, they are not in control of their own lives.
Kevin wrote:
That is hardly true. It would perhaps be better if it were true, but it's not. People with major depression can be very much in control of their lives. Major depression doesn't just mean listlessness and incoherence, like it's portrayed in the media and elsewhere generally. Major depression does interfere, yes, but it doesn't mean there is a lack of control.
There are many of us out here that *are* in control of our lives...we're just not in control of our emotions. To be blunt...SSRI's are one of *the* most prescribed perscriptions out there. That would mean either there are a lot of people that are in control of their lives out there that are depressive, or there are a lot of out of control peopl eout there that are faking it damn well.
Me, for the most part, I fall into the former. I hold down a good job and try my best not to let my depression interfere with that. Some days the worst thing I have to do is drag my sorry ass out of the bed in the morning. If I can do *that*, I figure I can make it the rest of the day.
I don't doubt in the least that what I have now (seasonal depression) is growing worse and longer...which most likely means that I'm going to end up being treated pretty much year round eventually.
It *still* doesn't mean I'm not in control of my own life...or my decisions.
Sometimes it means I'm irrational and moody while *going* about that life...but then... I dare anyone to deny that they aren't that occasionally.
- Norton wrote:
Suicide is not a rational, studied option, but a last resort, the only way they can think to cope with their own seemingly endless (of course, depressive episodes tend not to be eternal, but someone in the midst of one lacks the insight to realize this) suffering.
Kevin wrote:
The parenthetical aside is also not true. Major depressive episodes can last for a good long time - even years. And the one who is depressed may very well know that it will end, but frankly, what difference does that make? Waiting in line to go to the bathroom, knowing you'll get there eventually, doesn't make the pain go away if your bladder's full.
One of the hardest things for anyone to face, if they're going through it...is the simple idea that you don't *have* to be that way.
Sure, on the outside it looks simple. Who *wants* to be depressed??? Who *wants* to be tired all the time?? Who *wants* to look at the day and know that it's going to be just like every other day...and no matter what you do, it's most likely just going to be wrong or silly or stupid??
When you start treatment for depression...and particularly if you're put on an SSRI...(one that works for you, anyway) You're suddenly faced with something that you *just* don't know how to deal with. It's easier to stay where you're comfortable and *know* what you're going to get.
The mere idea that I might actually spend more than a couple hourse "happy" scares me. The idea that I might actually *DESERVE* to be happy and have good things happen to me *terrifies* me. The idea that I'm going to have to learn a completely new way of life terrifies me.
I don't know how I'll react to *anything*.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is what a huge number of people face when they come out of long term depression. And why lots of us fight going and being diagnosed and treated. And why we have to be reminded for a long time to *take* the damn meds because they're good for us.
And why we need people to remind us why we need to *keep* taking them when we *ARE* feeling good. Because once we feel good, we think we've gotten it beat. Maybe we have....and maybe we haven't.
And, here comes the obligatory....
Tiger, thank you for pushing me back onto them again.
