Last week, Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, wrote a about her continued battle with depression. I have a few close friends who I have seen struggle with various forms of depression and I have always felt somewhat at a loss as to how to help or what to say.
I’ve seen a few discussions about depression recently: Jenny’s post, the response she received, Allie’s recent post at Hyperbole and a Half, the story from a few years ago about New Orleans reporter Chris Rose and JT Eberhart’s recent discussion of mental illness at Skepticon 4.
What struck me most about all these discussions was how much depression and mental illness is stigmatized and how much people who suffer from it have to battle the myth that it is somehow their own fault. That admitting to being depressed means that they are admitting to some sort of personal weakness.
There’s clear evidence that depression is a very real, extremely serious illness. But it seems that for many people, it remains a blind spot. It also seems that the more people speak out about depression, the more others are willing to speak out as well and stop hiding the problem. The response to Jenny’s post has been overwhelming. And that got me thinking. A single anecdote from a single person can help a lot of people. It seems that the problem of depression is one that benefits from anecdotes, from personal stories of individuals who have struggled with this. Yes, the plural of anecdote is not evidence. But in this case, perhaps the plural of anecdote is antidote.
So here is my story.
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