Depression Through Film, Part I

Depression.

One word, ten letters, three syllables. It used to describe a mood, sadness, but now, it’s the word we use to describe a mental health disorder. One, which, even in 2016, we don’t seem to have quite a grasp on.

Depression, according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), is a “common but serious mood disorder”. Within depression, there are also subcategories, including postpartum depression, persistent depressive disorder, and even psychotic depression, which usually includes delusions or some other form of psychosis. With depression being such a consistent, well known mental health disorder, it would appear that the general public would be able to adequately spot the signs of depression in friends and family. It would also appear that depression would be better understood, and not used as a blanket term. However, as much as we claim to “understand” depression, I don’t think the American public seems to grasp what depression really is, and how it really affects people. To be clear, I don’t mean to be critical, but I feel that looking critically at our understanding of depression is necessary. Depression is so much more than feeling sad. Depression is so much more than laying in bed all day. Depression is so much more than what social media platforms like Tumblr make it out to be.

The truth is that depression is a dark, lurking monster. It lies in wait to destroy your brain at a very basic level. There is a reason JK Rowling used Dementors as a metaphor for her own depression in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban; it’s because if depression were ever a monster, that’s what it’d be.

It affects the 45-year-old successful CEO, who is overworked and lonely. While the CEO may be able to go to work and complete daily tasks, they start to slip. Their enthusiasm fades. Soon, they find themselves alone at night, contemplating what led them to this point, and they don’t tell anyone about the moments that it feels hard to breathe and the walls are slowly closing in on them.

It affects the 30-year-old teacher, who, despite being able to still do their job, their personality is different. They aren’t as happy; their smile isn’t as bright. When they have a moment alone, they use it to quell their emotions in the bathroom stall. When they come home, the house is a mess, and there’s still dishes in the sink, and yet, they can’t muster any more energy to complete those tasks.

It affects the 35-year-old mother of three, who feels overwhelmed and underappreciated and doesn’t feel like she can ask for help. She used to be a hands-on mom, she used to take her kids to the park, and do things with them daily. Soon, she’s taking her anger out on her children. She yells more than she ever has. She feels trapped. She feels alone. And the worse it gets, the more things at home suffer.

It affects the 22-year-old college graduate, who is struggling to find a job or figure out where to go in their life. They’ve been an overachiever their entire life, with a good GPA, and they did “all the right things” in order to be successful. Yet, they sit on their couch, too afraid to call home and discuss these feelings of worthlessness with their parents. They’ve pushed their friends to the outer rim of their life. They may be slacking on bills. They may not have showered in several days. And the more they don’t seek help, the more likely they are to spiral even further downward.

There are so many ways depression can manifest itself that I think it can be hard to truly understand it. I’ve had people tell me that “it’s all in your head” and “sing a song, go for a walk, enjoy life!”, and I’m not quite bitter enough to say “you don’t get it at all”. Sure, exercise, music, medicine, all of those things help, but some only quell the depression for a little while. When you’re someone who has suffered from depression, you know how it affects everything in your body. Suddenly, you’re not the person you used to be. You are no longer the person people think that they know. You’re something else entirely.

However, that being said, I don’t think the way many view depression these days is altogether healthy. Scouring the corners of Tumblr, you find a lot of advice on how to deal with depression. My criticism is that, for the most part, a lot of it isn’t good advice, it’s just ways to perpetuate selfishness.

See, self-care is important. But part of that self care is getting up, showering, brushing your teeth, and cleaning your house. Part of self care is taking are of the dishes that have been in the sink for a week. Part of self care is realizing that, while it’s easily to only see yourself because the depression is clouding your worldview, the world is moving on and spinning, regardless of whether you do or not.

That may sound harsh, but it’s a view I’ve had to learn myself. The bills won’t pay themselves. The house won’t get clean on it’s own. I need to shower. And feed myself. And walk the dog. And feed the cats.

Yes, depression sucks the life out of you, but it’ll only take you down completely if you let it. Even without medication (like myself), you have to remember that just because your brain isn’t working the way it needs to, things still have to get done. You still exist. You still have to function, even if it’s in a menial way.

Yes, depression is an ugly, nasty monster that will rob you of the person you used to be. But, with every other disease, we seem to fight for a cure, don’t we? People complete marathons after a cancer diagnoses. They take up yoga to combat arthritis. They get a gym membership to combat obesity. There are support groups for cancer, and for autoimmune illnesses, and for birth defects. Unfortunately, it seems, mental health is the one area that people struggle in until it’s too late. Too many people never get the care they need because the mental health care system in the United States is totally lacking.

I chose the picture with this post because, though it’s beautiful scenery, and it’s obvious that there is color and life to it, the image is in black and white. For me, that’s kind of how depression has always been. Yes, I am aware there is goodness and beauty and happy things in the world, yes, I know that life is great, but sometimes, it’s really hard to see. Sometimes, it feels like the world is black and white, and that something is looming over me, sucking pieces of my soul away and that there’s nothing left of the person I used to be.

Depression can be hard to grasp. I think, in some way, it will always be hard to understand.

As for me, I’ll find the beauty in the black and white, and one day I’ll see in color again.

-AM