So I haven't posted in forever and I'm in a Twitter room and the subject of Depression came up. So I pasted this write up here, so I could share with a few friends... Hope to write more soon...
Lengthy post. A friend of mine posted this on her page. It's an analogy between Depression and Snow. After reading it, I was very impressed, but I realized my some of my friends don't know what plowing snow is like, so I modified it to rainstorms. The author is anonymous, so I'm hoping they don't mind my small change, as long as the message is passed along to keep dialogues open about Depression. Let's end the stigma of Mental Illness.
When you have depression it’s like it rains every day.
Some days it’s only a little bit. It’s a pain in the ass, but you still make it to work, the grocery store. Sure, maybe you skip the gym or your friend’s birthday party, but it IS still raining and who knows how bad it might get tonight. Probably better to just head home. Your friend notices, but probably just thinks you are flaky now, or kind of an asshole.
Some days it rains 4-6 inches You spend an hour waiting for it to let up, or get out your raincoat. Run to the car and get soaked, and are late to work. Your back hurts from almost slipping on the wet pavement and your clothes is damp all day. You leave early because it’s really coming down out there. Your boss notices.
Some days it’s a torrential downpour. You have to get sandbags onto your porch and you have towels at the ready in case it seeps into the house. You are not making it to work, or anywhere else for that matter. You are so damp and tired you just get back in the bed. By the time you wake up, your porch is flooded and the front foyer is sopping wet. Looks like your phone rang; people are wondering where you are. You don’t feel like calling them back, too tired from cleaning. Plus they don’t get this much rain at their house so they don’t understand why you’re still stuck at home. They just think you’re lazy or weak, although they rarely come out and say it.
Some weeks it’s a hurricane. When you open your door, it’s to smattering of wind, rain and possible tornados. The power flickers, then goes out. It’s too hot to sit in the living room anymore, so you get back into bed with as little clothes as possible. The stove and microwave won’t work so you eat a cold Pop Tart and call that dinner. You haven’t taken a shower in days, but how could you at this point? You’ve been soaked all week, and the water that comes out of the shower is now bitter cold. Better to just sleep.
Sometimes people get rain all season & when the hurricane hits, there’s no communication in or out. What can you even do, drive or walk for help with no power or gas? How far away is help? Can you even get there in a storm? If you do, can they even help you at this point? Maybe it’s death to stay here, but it’s death to go out there too.
The thing is, when it rains all the time, you get worn all the way down. You get tired of being damp. You get tired of cleaning up the puddles from the flood, but if you don’t clean every day, it builds up to something unmanageable on the heavy days. You resent the hell out of the rain, but it doesn’t care, it’s just a blind chemistry, an act of nature. It carries on regardless, unconcerned and unaware if it floods you or the whole world.
Also, the rain builds up in other areas, sometimes places you can’t even see. Maybe it’s on the roof. Maybe it’s in the garden behind the house. Sometimes, there’s a tornado that blows the house right off its foundation and takes you with it. A veritable Act of God, nothing can be done. The neighbors say it’s a shame and they can’t understand it; he was doing so well with managing the rising waters.
-
I don’t know how it went down for Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade. It seems like they got hit by the tornado, but it could’ve been the long, slow pitter patter of the rainy season. Maybe they were keeping up with the rising water. Maybe they weren’t. Sometimes, it isn’t enough anyway. It’s hard to tell from the outside, but it’s important to understand what it’s like from the inside.
I firmly believe that understanding and compassion have to be the base of effective action. It’s important to understand what depression is, how it feels, what it’s like to live with it, so you can help people both on an individual basis and a policy basis. I’m not putting heavy shit out here to make your Sunday evening suck. I know it feels gross to read it, and realistically it can be unpleasant to be around it, that’s why people pull away.
I don’t have a message for people with depression like “keep your head above water”. It’s asinine. Of course you’re going to do the best you can, until you physically can’t, because who wants their house flooded? We know what the stakes are. My message is to everyone else. Grab a fucking towel or some sand bags and help your neighbor.
Depression is blind chemistry and physics, like rain. And like the weather, it is a mindless process, powerful and unpredictable with great potential for harm. But like climate change, that doesn’t mean we are helpless. If we want to stop losing so many people to this disease, it will require action at every level.
Some days it’s only a little bit. It’s a pain in the ass, but you still make it to work, the grocery store. Sure, maybe you skip the gym or your friend’s birthday party, but it IS still raining and who knows how bad it might get tonight. Probably better to just head home. Your friend notices, but probably just thinks you are flaky now, or kind of an asshole.
Some days it rains 4-6 inches You spend an hour waiting for it to let up, or get out your raincoat. Run to the car and get soaked, and are late to work. Your back hurts from almost slipping on the wet pavement and your clothes is damp all day. You leave early because it’s really coming down out there. Your boss notices.
Some days it’s a torrential downpour. You have to get sandbags onto your porch and you have towels at the ready in case it seeps into the house. You are not making it to work, or anywhere else for that matter. You are so damp and tired you just get back in the bed. By the time you wake up, your porch is flooded and the front foyer is sopping wet. Looks like your phone rang; people are wondering where you are. You don’t feel like calling them back, too tired from cleaning. Plus they don’t get this much rain at their house so they don’t understand why you’re still stuck at home. They just think you’re lazy or weak, although they rarely come out and say it.
Some weeks it’s a hurricane. When you open your door, it’s to smattering of wind, rain and possible tornados. The power flickers, then goes out. It’s too hot to sit in the living room anymore, so you get back into bed with as little clothes as possible. The stove and microwave won’t work so you eat a cold Pop Tart and call that dinner. You haven’t taken a shower in days, but how could you at this point? You’ve been soaked all week, and the water that comes out of the shower is now bitter cold. Better to just sleep.
Sometimes people get rain all season & when the hurricane hits, there’s no communication in or out. What can you even do, drive or walk for help with no power or gas? How far away is help? Can you even get there in a storm? If you do, can they even help you at this point? Maybe it’s death to stay here, but it’s death to go out there too.
The thing is, when it rains all the time, you get worn all the way down. You get tired of being damp. You get tired of cleaning up the puddles from the flood, but if you don’t clean every day, it builds up to something unmanageable on the heavy days. You resent the hell out of the rain, but it doesn’t care, it’s just a blind chemistry, an act of nature. It carries on regardless, unconcerned and unaware if it floods you or the whole world.
Also, the rain builds up in other areas, sometimes places you can’t even see. Maybe it’s on the roof. Maybe it’s in the garden behind the house. Sometimes, there’s a tornado that blows the house right off its foundation and takes you with it. A veritable Act of God, nothing can be done. The neighbors say it’s a shame and they can’t understand it; he was doing so well with managing the rising waters.
-
I don’t know how it went down for Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade. It seems like they got hit by the tornado, but it could’ve been the long, slow pitter patter of the rainy season. Maybe they were keeping up with the rising water. Maybe they weren’t. Sometimes, it isn’t enough anyway. It’s hard to tell from the outside, but it’s important to understand what it’s like from the inside.
I firmly believe that understanding and compassion have to be the base of effective action. It’s important to understand what depression is, how it feels, what it’s like to live with it, so you can help people both on an individual basis and a policy basis. I’m not putting heavy shit out here to make your Sunday evening suck. I know it feels gross to read it, and realistically it can be unpleasant to be around it, that’s why people pull away.
I don’t have a message for people with depression like “keep your head above water”. It’s asinine. Of course you’re going to do the best you can, until you physically can’t, because who wants their house flooded? We know what the stakes are. My message is to everyone else. Grab a fucking towel or some sand bags and help your neighbor.
Depression is blind chemistry and physics, like rain. And like the weather, it is a mindless process, powerful and unpredictable with great potential for harm. But like climate change, that doesn’t mean we are helpless. If we want to stop losing so many people to this disease, it will require action at every level.
When you have depression it’s like it snows every day.Some days it’s only a couple of inches. It’s a pain in the ass, but you still make it to work, the grocery store. Sure, maybe you skip the gym or your friend’s birthday party, but it IS still snowing and who knows how bad it might get tonight. Probably better to just head home. Your friend notices, but probably just thinks you are flaky now, or kind of an asshole.
Some days it snows a foot. You spend an hour shoveling out your driveway and are late to work. Your back and hands hurt from shoveling. You leave early because it’s really coming down out there. Your boss notices.
Some days it snows four feet. You shovel all morning but your street never gets plowed. You are not making it to work, or anywhere else for that matter. You are so sore and tired you just get back in the bed. By the time you wake up, all your shoveling has filled back in with snow. Looks like your phone rang; people are wondering where you are. You don’t feel like calling them back, too tired from all the shoveling. Plus they don’t get this much snow at their house so they don’t understand why you’re still stuck at home. They just think you’re lazy or weak, although they rarely come out and say it.
Some weeks it’s a full-blown blizzard. When you open your door, it’s to a wall of snow. The power flickers, then goes out. It’s too cold to sit in the living room anymore, so you get back into bed with all your clothes on. The stove and microwave won’t work so you eat a cold Pop Tart and call that dinner. You haven’t taken a shower in three days, but how could you at this point? You’re too cold to do anything except sleep.
Sometimes people get snowed in for the winter. The cold seeps in. No communication in or out. The food runs out. What can you even do, tunnel out of a forty foot snow bank with your hands? How far away is help? Can you even get there in a blizzard? If you do, can they even help you at this point? Maybe it’s death to stay here, but it’s death to go out there too.
The thing is, when it snows all the time, you get worn all the way down. You get tired of being cold. You get tired of hurting all the time from shoveling, but if you don’t shovel on the light days, it builds up to something unmanageable on the heavy days. You resent the hell out of the snow, but it doesn’t care, it’s just a blind chemistry, an act of nature. It carries on regardless, unconcerned and unaware if it buries you or the whole world.
Also, the snow builds up in other areas, places you can’t shovel, sometimes places you can’t even see. Maybe it’s on the roof. Maybe it’s on the mountain behind the house. Sometimes, there’s an avalanche that blows the house right off its foundation and takes you with it. A veritable Act of God, nothing can be done. The neighbors say it’s a shame and they can’t understand it; he was doing so well with his shoveling.
-
I don’t know how it went down for Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade. It seems like they got hit by the avalanche, but it could’ve been the long, slow winter. Maybe they were keeping up with their shoveling. Maybe they weren’t. Sometimes, shoveling isn’t enough anyway. It’s hard to tell from the outside, but it’s important to understand what it’s like from the inside.
I firmly believe that understanding and compassion have to be the base of effective action. It’s important to understand what depression is, how it feels, what it’s like to live with it, so you can help people both on an individual basis and a policy basis. I’m not putting heavy shit out here to make your Sunday evening suck. I know it feels gross to read it, and realistically it can be unpleasant to be around it, that’s why people pull away.
I don’t have a message for people with depression like “keep shoveling”. It’s asinine. Of course you’re going to keep shoveling the best you can, until you physically can’t, because who wants to freeze to death inside their own house? We know what the stakes are. My message is to everyone else. Grab a fucking shovel and help your neighbor. Slap a mini snow plow on the front of your truck and plow your neighborhood. Petition the city council to buy more salt trucks, so to speak.
Depression is blind chemistry and physics, like snow. And like the weather, it is a mindless process, powerful and unpredictable with great potential for harm. But like climate change, that doesn’t mean we are helpless. If we want to stop losing so many people to this disease, it will require action at every level.
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