Monday, October 20, 2003
(1:55 PM) | Adam Kotsko:
Overcoming clinical depression
As many of you know, I am definitely going through Hard Times right now. Here's a brief rundown:
- A wedding has transmogrified a woman of my acquaintance from "cool friend I'm glad I get to hang out with so much" into "the only woman I'll ever love and whom I never see anymore, ever." There have been several candidates for "the only woman I'll ever love" (approximately 10 at last count), but I really think this one is going to stick.
- Richard and Kari are moving to Indianapolis after a shotgun wedding in January. I've never told him this before, but Richard has become something of a mother figure to me over the last year and a half -- paying all my bills for me, making dinner, picking out my clothes every morning, etc. In exchange, all I had to do was slave away with housework and pet maintenance tasks while all my friends experiment with drugs, sex, and alcohol. Then he subtly lets me know that while he's willing to tolerate it when I talk about things I'm interested in, I'm really weird and he wishes I'd just be normal. Then he starts screaming and throwing plates around the kitchen, the dog runs to another room with his tail between his legs, and I cower in my bedroom for a while talking to my moody girlfriend. A few hours later, he apologizes and we hug.
- Speaking of my family, my father was recently murdered, and I suspect that my mother has married the murderer, who is also my uncle.
- There's a pledge drive on NPR.
- After months of experimentation, I've definitely pinned down a pretty inflexible relationship between "actually going to work" and "getting paid." The credit card company is not amused with this experiment.
- I received a letter from John Ashcroft alerting me to the fact that the FBI recently started a file on me. (I feel like it was probably a form letter, even though he tried to make it sound personal.)
Even with all these circumstances in mind, my depression seemed too great to be simply "caused" by my circumstances. It was pretty clearly clinical depression. The despair was overwhelming -- diet pills and espresso barely made a dent. Then, the cure came. You'll be surprised when you learn what it was:
The weather changed.
That's right. My circumstances had nearly driven me to suicide, and when we got an unseasonably nice day, all symptoms were gone. I'm going to start marketting my method. I call it "If you're depressed, try to hold out until a nice day, and you'll feel better."
