Many people have a stereotyped image of depressed people sitting on a couch, unwashed and unable to function. However, some suffering from depression hide their pain from family and friends. As long as they go to work and through the motions of normalcy at home, nobody knows. It can be hard for the untrained to discern depression. Even professionals misdiagnose based upon appearance.
I remember wearing black sheer stockings, stilettos and skirt suit to the swank Manhattan office of a prominent psychiatrist. He told me I looked too sexy to be depressed; implying that I was faking. I smiled, stood up to leave and asked: “Where’s the candid camera?” I finally worked up the nerve to get help, and picked Dr. Lust, a psych who’s looking at me like a steak sandwich. It’s like I’m drowning, managed to swim to a ship, but instead of throwing me a rope, he twisted it into a noose. Humor, even gallows, can be an effective anecdote to the symptoms of depression.
Also, exercise is a powerful anti depressant. When you exercise, your body releases endorphins which send signals to your brain resulting in reduction in the perception of pain and a natural high. Unlike drugs and sugar’s artificial high where you crash and feel worse, exercise makes you look better and feel better.
If someone who exercises regularly suddenly stops for no apparent reason, that could be a sign of depression. Although I grew up running on the beach in Charleston county and continued running when I moved to Los Angeles, the only exercise I did the first two months after moving to NY was shoveling gourmet food into my mouth. After leaving that quack’s office, I returned to my apartment, changed clothes, and ran around Riverside Park for over an hour. The next day, I called Sensei Ron in L.A. and got the number for the nearest jujitsu dojo on the west side of Manhattan.
Thankfully, I found a competent doctor who referred me to group therapy. Then one of the members in group told me about Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts. Helping others helped me and changed the trajectory of my life. It all started when I made up my mind to go to the doctor.
There’s such a stigma attached to depression; I almost didn’t go. It’s not like a broken bone or bloody nose which elicits sympathy. Fear of being labeled “crazy,” “weak,” “unemployable,” etc. prevents a lot of folks from getting help. That was 25 years ago. Sure, I’ve been sad since that fateful day in NY, but never depressed because I look too sexy to be depressed. #Smile