I am not a lunatic

I have an inherited chemical imbalance that causes fatigue, physical pain, insomnia, irritability, sadness, and anxiety among other symptoms. Both of my parents were hospitalized for this disorder during my childhood. Sound serious? It is. It's called clinical depression and it affects around 18% of the population at least once in their lives. For some people, like myself, we deal with depression related to the short daylight hours of winter which can be managed with phototherapy, exercise, vitamins and natural remedies (herbs, homeopathics). Others deal with a much more severe, prolonged form of depression that binds them to their beds, leaves them in nagging physical pain and a host of other symptoms. Given the social stigma surrounding mental illness, I'm unsurprised that the majority of sufferers do not receive treatment. Depression carries with it a certain sense of failure; the feeling that one must being doing something wrong if they need to seek help for such a simple thing as "the blues." No one likes to admit they have failed at something, especially something so big as life itself. Depressed people are often seen as weak or lazy. Sometimes, they are blown off as being "lunatics." So when my usual seasonal depression turned into something more severe after the loss of my grandfather, six months of extreme stress at work, and a variety of changes and setbacks, it took me months (and quite a few breakdowns in my car during lunch) to finally go to my physician for treatment. I viewed myself as weak and lazy and had the unrealistic expectation that I should be able to "just beat it." I still struggle with the weak/lazy label, but I am not a lunatic. This is something that I, and every other patient, have no control over. So why does society have such a problem accepting that depression and other mental illnesses are just that: ILLNESSES. Real medical conditions that deserve attention and treatment. In my case, I'm lucky. I have insurance, a primary care provider that I trust, and I'm responding very well to the first medication we tried. Others are not so lucky and still others have access to care but will not seek treatment until they can no longer struggle and simply take the nearest bullet, pill, or rope out of this world.

So what does this have to do with anything? I've been thinking about the shootings at Virginia Tech and my own struggle with depression gives me a unique perspective. It's painfully obvious, to me at least, that the perpetrator suffered from severe mental illness and lack of effective treatment probably due to an indifferent, overloaded health system and the social stigma of the illness itself. I wonder if it could have been prevented. So before you judge me or anyone else with of society refusing to acknowledge a valid illness. Or better yet, put yourself in the shoes of a depressed person. How would it make you feel to be treated the way most sufferers are treated? I am not a lunatic. We are not lunatics. Get over your judgemental, self-righteous selves and give people the opportunity to seek help without the fear of being ridiculed. That is all.

Cure for a bad day

When you're having a bad day, just look at this picture.



Just think, you could be a football fan with a cat, a lime, a very sharp knife and way too much time on your hands. Random strange cat picture brought to you by and uncooperative feline overlord. "No pictures, no autographs"