Understanding the Depressions
A Companion for Sufferers, Relatives and Counsellors
Wyn Bramley
First published by Free Association Books.
Copyright © 2020 Wyn Bramley
The author’s rights are fully asserted. The rights of
Wyn Bramley to be identified as the author of
this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
A CIP Catalogue of this book is available from
the British Library
isbn: 978-1-91138-338-3
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Chapter 1
What Are
“The Depressions”?
Out, out, brief candle
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing
William Shakespeare (Macbeth)
We all share identical properties that mark us out as human beings. Even so, every person is unique: we are not clones. It’s the same with depression – or perhaps more properly the depressions (plural) – because they manifest in so many different ways and under different circumstances yet in essence remain the same. This is a simple enough observation, yet there appears to be little understanding of the condition – or conditions – among the general public, who tend to lump together all states of “feeling miserable” into something to be snapped out of, a disease category to be treated medically, or a feebleness of personality to be disapproved of and dismissed.
To test this assumption I conducted some amateur research at my local pub and shopping centre. I asked random people of varying ages the simple question “What do you think it means when people say they’re depressed?” Herewith a sample of replies: “It’s feeling wretched most of the time”, “a psychiatric illness”, “suicidal?”, “need to pull themselves together, stop feeling sorry for themselves”, “off their trolley, no such thing”, “just another excuse: get a life mate”, “everybody’s depressed, the state the world’s in”, “another way of saying very unhappy isn’t it, sort of stuck in sadness?”
These answers do show how vaguely understood depression is, though all respondents connected it with a negative outlook and feeling low. There is ample, largely professional knowledge concerning depression, how it shows itself to the outward observer or physician; but there’s very little understanding of what it actually feels like to be depressed (unless of course one suffers oneself). Perhaps folk have witnessed depression in others and fear contamination, though they know full well it isn’t contagious. Perhaps they’ve felt that awful sense of impotence when one tries fruitlessly to cheer up the sufferer, talk them out of their misery; better to steer clear.
A car park interview
Okay, so what does this seemingly scary state that we label “depression” actually consist of? The first thing about it that we need to take very seriously is its complexity and its variety. I’m going to say a bit about Frank, a talkative Yorkshire man, and his personal experience of his wife’s depression. This example shows how hard it is to simply seal off depression from its immediate context, as if it were an encapsulated thing like a growth that needs excising, or a bug that needs antibiotics. Depression transpires in a network of personal relationships – partners, kids, parents, work colleagues. It often destabilises the traditions, alliances, and problem-solving measures that have till now been the mainstay of the depressed person’s family or work group. (Occasionally though, someone’s depression grants an opportunity for all concerned to re-jig their shared relationships into a more wholesome way of operating. Some theorists claim that many depressions actually result from toxic family or workplace dynamics.) In trying to deal constructively with one’s own depression or someone else’s, this bigger picture has always to be taken into account if there is to be any benefit to those involved.
I met Frank at Tesco’s checkout where we fell to chatting. Once outside I put my survey question to him. It was spitting with rain and to my surprise he pulled me by my arm toward the sheltered bit of the car park. He plonked down his shopping bags and turned eagerly toward my enquiring face. “Aye lass, I can tell you all about depression. You can stick this in your blinking book ’cause no one really gets it. Somebody should tell ‘em.”
“My wife has got it – real bad, takes all the tablets and that. Can’t wake up in the morning till I pours three cups of strong tea down her, and even then she’s woozy – from bad dreams she says. I gets the kids off to school and packs me own lunchbox and off I goes. I gets home from the plant totally knackered around half six – bloody awful traffic. All I wants is some grub, bit of telly and bed.
“Now the missus, she bucks up in the evenings since she’s on them pills. Lipstick, cooks a nice meal, new frock. You know what she wants don’t you? Well I can’t. I’m a morning man in that department, alus was. So was she till she got depression. Then I gets tears, rage, doors banging. ‘You don’t love me anymore. You think I’m past it. I’m going to chuck that telly out the window!’ Aye, she gets right hysterical. What am I supposed to do? One minute I have to play Nursey, the next a ruddy stud. We never have any of the old conjugals now, neither of us tries, only way to keep the peace. We barely speak to each other. I’m miserable, the kids are miserable. What about my depression eh? I don’t get pills do I?”
Poor bloke didn’t know which way to turn; he needed desperately to offload onto someone. His story clearly demonstrates how inadequate a solely chemical approach is to something as multi-factorial as depression. We don’t know his wife’s circumstances, though she seems to be as worried as he about the marriage and their sexual relations. Did these difficulties cause the depression, you might ask, or were they its result? Was the wife having side effects from the drugs? Was hubbie really too tired at night, or secretly resentful that the depression took his wife
