This is probably one of those topics that patients have considered quite deeply and one that victims may have thought about but never voiced. I want to talk about the curious phenomenon of not really wanting to get better. Yes, you heard (or read) me correctly: sometimes, even after a failed suicide attempt, patients find it very difficult to begin the process of recovery.
We want to be better of course, but the third phase of life is quite a bit different than the life we have been living for so long. I know this won’t be true of everyone, but I think it is for quite a lot of us: life before now has been one of constant emotional turbulence with thoughts of suicide always near at hand, life now is consumed by thoughts of suicide–the ultimate “Get out of jail free card,” life in the future will be completely unrecognizable … maybe.
I cannot even imagine what a life free of depression, insecurity, anxiety, and suicidality would be like. I have been sick for so long, it feels like a part of who I am–an integral piece of my personna. In college, I had that dark, contemplative thing going. Not exactly popular with the sorority crowd, buy something of “charm” in the tree-hugger liberal crowds with whom I ran. It was cool in that respect. It’s not so cool now that I have children, a mortgage and retirement looming ahead. Shaking it though is not as easy as recognizing the need for a change.
I am also guilty of using my illness as a crutch. How can I not, given that the crutch has become part of my body? If I lay around in bed all Sunday, is it because I am depressed or because I didn’t want to work on those cabinets in the basement? Difficult to say. Probably a little bit of depression and a little bit of habit. Perhaps laziness in the morning leading to depression in the afternoon due to being such a loser for staying in bed all morning. (The chicken and egg conundrum is appropriate here.)
Lisa had a very good paragraph or two expounding this issue. I couldn’t find the e-mail in which she related this idea to me, so I hope she will post them as a comment to this blog entry.
I know I haven’t done such a good job of this blog entry. I hope to do better next time, but right now, I just can’t seem to get out of bed long enough to write for more than ten minutes at a time.
4 responses so far ↓
cherished79 // 30 July 2007 at 9:15 pm
Speaking on the subject of “not wanting to get better”, in my opinion, this can only be understood from the person who’s ill. This just wouldn’t make sense to anyone else; the family, friends - who would think of such a notion - why would someone not want to get well? They do not realize that that person is living under a veil of blackness so horrible, encased in stone and unable to move or even think clearly.
And therin lies the part of blame. “You are not helping yourself”. If you had cancer, and in chemo - would you be helping yourself? Maybe it’s just me, but we, with mental illness get needless, undeserved rapping.
ideas2words // 31 July 2007 at 6:19 am
I find it interesting that depression has the rare quality of producing the conditions that help it thrive. For example, I’m depressed, so I can’t get to work; I can’t get to work, so I get fired; I get fired, so I get depressed. Another: I am depressed, so I don’t want to talk to anyone; I don’t talk to anyone, so no one talks to me; All my friends have “abandoned” me (cognitive distortion and negative interpretation of events are symptoms of depression as well); My friends abandoned me, so I am all alone; I’m all alone, so I am depressed. I could go on and on.
Ashley // 31 July 2007 at 3:45 pm
Read Kramer’s book “Against Depression” for more information on the culture of depression. From the book: “… They wore their depression with panache …”
crazyasuka // 4 August 2007 at 5:53 pm
Depression is very hard to define, some people don’t even believe it is real. When we stay a whole sunday in bed and avoid any kind of contact and responsibility, or when we stop talking to our friends… is it really because an illness is making us? or we are just using this as an excuse? Even if we choose to believe the second option, we then get all these guilty feelings of still not been able to do anything about it. But is it real? Are we that out of control or we just don’t want to fix ourselves? Are we just avoiding life because it’s hard? is there any way to know?…
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