Posted by Mark H. on October 10, 2000, at 19:01:14
In reply to How to talk to happy people?, posted by mist on October 5, 2000, at 1:59:08
I share your problem and have lost most of my social skills (and friends) over the years to this peculiar symptom of depression. Even my closest long-term friends find it difficult to sustain a conversation with me when I'm at my most depressed, and no matter how intent I am on being positive, I invariably find only negative connotations and pessimistic connections to make. The few "positive" things I force myself to say are even worse, because they are so clearly false.
Like you, this then extends to not wanting to return telephone calls, even knowing that I will feel better if I get the matter off my plate. Invitations to lunch or dinner gatherings are cancelled at the last minute. A planned activity is replaced with staying at home and watching a video, or just sleeping extra hours. I then start going out of my way to avoid people I recognize in public, and finally don't want to leave the house or receive visitors at all. I become suspicious and fearful of other people's intentions, especially as they might involve me.
This cycles down to an organic "certainty" that I'll never get better and will wind up on the street living out of a cardboard box, alone, unloved, half-crazy and untreated, or at best an unbearable burden to my family.
I call depression the "selfish disease," because it creates an inability to take an interest in others, which as Nibor noted is the basis for social interaction (not to mention compassion and empathy). The world gets smaller and smaller, like a dark envelope closing in around me. It's not a choice; it's not laziness; it's not indifference or not knowing better; it's more like paralysis. Those who haven't experienced it have no way of relating to it at all.
In contrast, when I'm well, I exult in the magnificient illusion that EVERYONE is interested in what I have to say and, sure enough, my enthusiasm, even for the most seemingly trivial topics (e.g., growing bamboo), is sufficiently engaging not only to carry the conversation and lift moods but also to inspire cheerful and engaged responses from others. The relative reality is completely unchanged; the only variable seems to be the multi-level effect of having a few micrograms more or less of certain brain chemicals.
A friend of mine claims that all of what I describe can be summed up under the social organizing principle of "belonging." Those with high serotonin (and other neurotransmitter) levels are selected as natural leaders and have a strong innate sense of belonging. Years of depression have enabled me to pick them out of a crowd in a few seconds. I love high-serotonin people but, of course, EVERYONE loves high-serotonin people. They smell good, they're fun to be around, they make whatever activity or idea they're into seem like the most fun or most important in the world. Even if they are not particularly good-looking, we perceive them as being exceptionally attractive. We all want to do whatever they want to do, as long as they'll do it with us.
At the University of Oregon in the 1970s, the psychology department was doing long-term studies on depression from a behavioral standpoint. They thought if they put low-serotonin people together with high-serotonin people, the depressives would learn to mimic the behavior of the uppies and become un-depressed.
I think there is a certain *level* of depression at which behavioral and cognitive therapies are extremely useful -- those levels at which one still has (or with medication has regained) a choice, when one can still force him/herself to "snap out of it" for an hour or two with sufficient motivation, whether out of fear, love or necessity.
But for serious, longer-term endogenous depression, for people who cannot force themselves to go for a walk or invite a friend to share a pleasant activity, therapy of any sort falls short. At that point, having the information of how one "should" behave is just one more indication of how defective and damaged one has become. Even killing oneself becomes too much of a bother, an overwhelmingly complex act, the ramifications of which are beyond sorting out in this molasses-like state of impaired cognition.
"Sadness" and tears are, for many of us, so far "up" from depression that we forget even to mention it to our doctors. In the anhedonic haze of severe depression, the most troubling symptoms may be memory loss (where was I going? what did I do this morning? did I remember to eat today?); inappropriate guilt (feeling responsible for bad things done by other people, even historical figures); sleep disturbances, especially early waking with anxiety, fear and/or guilt; loss of appetite and interest in sex; loss of confidence in even our most basic skills; constipation; emotional numbness -- and inability to think of anything to talk about with others.
The seemingly continuous quality of severe depression is an illusion. If I pay attention, there are often periods, ranging from a few seconds to several hours, when I feel pretty good, even at my worst. If I let myself have those times when they happen without grasping (without trying to make them stay when they go) then I don't find the miserable parts quite so bad. And just being able to remember that depression will not last forever when I am in the worst of it helps.
Best wishes,
Mark H.
poster:Mark H.
thread:838
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20000813/msgs/937.html