A downer about uppers

It's nice to talk about depression here when I'm not depressed myself. Newsweek features an article, The Depressing News About Antidepressants.

All you really need to read:

Now Kirsch was certain. "The belief that antidepressants can cure depression chemically is simply wrong,"...

Which is not to say that antidepressants don't help. But it might be more accurate to say that, as far as clinical trials can tell us, believing you're doing something about your depression is about as helpful as anything.

The new cruellest month

It's August, the time of year for depression. Everything I do seems harder, meaningless, and subject to grueling self-criticism.

Fortunately, it's mild so far, but it's a difficult state to try to find a job in. Or an operative relationship with a God.

If you interact with me on a personal level, and you are not my wife, you probably won't even notice. If I have the giveadamn to leave the house, then I can generally put on a good enough public face.

But this is also the time of year when I disappear for a while, because putting on that face is increasingly taxing. Depression is insidious because it doesn't just bring you down, it saps your ability to get help.

Talking usually loosens the blockage somehow. Maybe blogging will do something similar.

Update: Good news from Scientific American! Depression makes me a better analytic thinker! Hooray?

2008: A fantastic year

Most years of this decade, I've come to a grim December and thought, "Man, that was a hard year. Hope the next one's got something better."

2008 broke my streak. 2008 has been a fantastic year. A lot of it is thanks to Meredith, who helps ground me by listening and taking me seriously. Highlights:

• Worked at the same place all year, at a job I basically like, without a long under-employed break -- an extra bump considering how lousy the year was for everyone's business.
• Started a hobby from scratch, and made some walking around money in the process.
• Restarted writing RPG material, and it was fun instead of nerve-wracking.
• Depression came, but did not stay this year.
• I'm energized rather than intimidated by the need to learn and stretch.

It is a fine time to be Jeff Quick. Thanks for reading, y'all.

Depression for a new century

Everybody with a title and a media outlet is real careful to say that there's not an economic depression coming up. But those people also didn't want to say that a recession was coming.

Warren Buffett, a man who I listen to closely, has said that we're in for a long, deep recession. But he hasn't said "depression" either. But that doesn't mean he can't be wrong.

So here's an interesting article from the Boston Globe: Depression 2009: What would it look like?

The recap? It won't look that startling. There probably wouldn't be long lines into the street and families packing all their worldly goods into trucks and people selling apples on the corners. Suburbs will empty, and cities will fill.

TV is one big difference. Once you have a TV, entertainment is essentially free, and you don't even have to leave the house to get it. So people won't. In 1930, it was much harder to hole up. Now, it will be hard not to.

People packed together, ignoring each other.

What the article doesn't go on to say is that an economic depression would lead to massive, crippling emotional depression. People will be separated, and in that separation, people will get lost. Suicide rates among adults could be ugly.

Our church, Circle of Hope, talks a lot about community. But we're only so-so on activating it... it's a very DIY church -- punk without the bad attitude. But if you don't know how to be DIY, you can feel left out.

I've been thinking loosely in the last couple weeks about how we can show Christ, love our neighbors, and help people in the coming recession. I've got a list of ideas, some more workable than other. One I'm adding today is becoming aggressively friendly to strangers, inviting them to do stuff with us, to get them out of their houses, and into some company. Ideally the company of a loving God, in addition to our own. The need for Jesus is about to get stronger in the Philadelphia region... people will need friends in a life-or-death way.

Good Medicine

This just in from LiveScience.com! New Depression Rx: Get Married.

So far it's working well. I sure do love my wife.

Frustrated Mess

About 10 years ago I told a therapist I was depressed. He wanted to know why.

"It's genetic," I said. "There doesn't have to be a why."

"Well, we don't know that depression is genetic," he said, "We know it runs in families."

That was a useful distinction to keep me from thinking like a victim.

But lo, scientists in modern-day Canadia deliver up new news: Depression has a genetic component after all.

"The actual gene, known as P2RX7, is found in humans and animals and is responsible for depression. It has taken many years to find," said Barden.

The mood disorder has often been associated with the serotonin system in the brain, because serotonin-boosting drugs are effective anti-depressants. "What is particularly exciting is that P2RX7 has nothing to do with serotonin," said Barden.

P2RX7 plays an important role in the brain's response to inflammation, which is known to be part of many neuropsychiatric disorders. The activity of the gene is also affected by stress hormones, suggesting a relationship between depression and severe stress.

You don't need professional scientists to tell you that stress and depression have each other on speed dial. I just got off a six month bender of it that started with two strong shots of stress.

However, I don't take anti-depressants. I'm not opposed to the idea; it's just that current methods of anti-depressant prescription appear to involve a roulette wheel and squinting. Then once you've been prescribed a particular medicine, it takes several weeks to kick in, brings an entourage of side effects, and oh, by the way, might not work. Ha ha! You rock, big pharm!

I don't need an all-new way to be a victim, and since nobody knows what they're doing anyway, I can be miserable, blind, and hopeful on my own, thanks.

But if these Canadanians have their science on straight, the current dartboard methodology of anti-depressant prescriptions might be explained because... they're aiming at the wrong thing. The article goes on to say that animal testing also demonstrates immediate, effective anti-depressant action.

Anti-depressants that work... too bad Jimi didn't live to see it.

Misery Loves An Audience

I was listening to a They Might Be Giants podcast on the way home yesterday and it contained a song that is catchy, and at the same time, a little awful. If you are a fan of TMBG, you will know this is not uncommon.

Aside: People whose opinions I respect have subtly poo-pooed TMBG for years, declaring them “only OK.” I used to think, “There must be something I’m not seeing that makes them less than great, because I think they're great. But maybe they’re not.”

Then on the train I thought, "Hey, you know what people whose opinions I respect? Screw you! I don’t know what your problem is, but this is great stuff. It speaks to me, and it’s inventive, fun, and thought-provoking, which is just about the most I want from art.”

Return: In this song, Renew My Subscription, John Linnell sings a song about (among other things) taking medication for psychosis. Many first-person TMBG songs are not necessarily autobiographical. But as I listened to the lyrics I realized: If this is not rooted in something personal, then the guy has done hella research. And really, it’s probably just personal.

They go:

I saw the thing about the heartsick shut-in
thought that I should cut in
and tell you ‘bout how
it woke me from a lifelong daydream
while I’ve been aging
you wrote it all down
though I recognized the words when I read them
I know I never said them
to people out loud

One, this is about aging. Two, this is about self-recognition and expression. Three, I didn’t write down the psychosis part of this song. Download the podcast through iTunes to hear for yourself, or you can follow the somewhat complicated procedure through their site at TMBG.com. Or you could buy their Venue Songs album; the song is there too.

I started thinking about TMBG’s catalog, and realized that a lot of their songs, a whole lot of their songs, are about being alienated, confused, or mentally unwell. Even when they’re obviously talking about someone else (Meet James Ensor, Metal Detector) that person is still not your role model. Regardless of subject, their interest is in unwell people.

The music is fun. The lyrics are clever. And these guys did a children’s album, and they’ve got great senses of humor, and amid all of this, you can easily get caught in a life size smoke screen around the melancholy and disconnection.

TMBG’s first couple of albums were more nakedly unsettled, but it seems like they lived some life, and went through a period of trying different things. I recently heard on another podcast that they were returning to playing older songs on tours, songs they hadn’t played live in 10 years. Renew My Subscription reminds me that they may be returning to the cleverly crafted expressions of alienation and perhaps songs about genuine insanity from their early days.

Furthermore: I began to put that together with some other artists/writers/musicians whose work I’ve recently plumbed deeply enough to realize that even though their output is fun, they’ve got a layer of sorrow/anxiety/unrest behind it.

I’ve always worked hard at concealing my misery in creative ventures -– including this blog. No one wants to hear about how depressed I’ve been, I think. That shit’s depressing. And even the people who want to be kind instead of disparaging or noncommittal, few are helpful when they try. Some people’s help just hurts more. So keep that away from the light, right? Deal with it solo and just give them what they want to see.

But listening to my favorite band on the train I discovered: The art needs to be miserable if you’re miserable. If misery is the truth you feel, then you have to put that in there. Trying to avoid it makes bad art. More often, avoiding it means you don’t do anything at all.

Frownout

Once or twice a year I get depressed and go away for a while. I just got back two weeks ago, in fact. Can't recommend it.

Sucky as it is, I'm no fan of medication. First, I don't like taking pharmaceuticals for things I can solve other ways. Second, depression is so poorly understood that drugs are a well-meaning crapshoot. Some mix might work, or make things worse, or be ineffectual. It'll definitely have side effects, though! Third, a surprisingly large number of studies have shown antidepressants to be no more effective than placebos.

I'll take my misery straight, thanks.

However, I am intrigued by news of a study on Botox as an antidepressant.

School's In: Botulin toxin is a neurotoxin, commercially available as "Botox." It is infrequently used in chemical warfare, but common as a cosmetic treatment. While oh-so bad in your stomach, in your face it prevents muscles from contracting for four to six months, eliminating unsightly lines, somehow combining popularity and creepiness.

This statistically insignificent study used Botox on people who were depressed, but not looking for cosmetic effect. From le article:

The pilot study of 10 patients is the first to provide empirical support for what a number of clinicians say they have noticed anecdotally: People who get their furrowed brows eliminated with Botox (botulinum toxin A) often report an improvement in mood.

Basically, an inability to furrow your brow stunts emotions related to brow-furrowing.

I have read hypotheses about body-mind connection say expressions affect mood just as mood affects expressions. For instance, smiling makes you feel better, and sitting up straight makes you more alert. This is the first time I've seen somebody brandish some science about it though. (Although Dr. Finzi is rightfully circumspect about suggesting such a thing.)