Tag: depression

  • Licensed to Drive

    Most people can relate to an analogy about cars, so here’s one relating to mental health that I thought would be able to demonstrate my point about the main stream approach to dealing with depression and other so-called mental illnesses (hopefully you have the patience to read it to the end).

    Imagine that the accelerator pedal of the car is your ability to express positive emotions, and the brake pedal was negative emotions, and you are the driver. One day, while driving along minding your own business you get hit by another driver that wasn’t paying attention. The crash isn’t serious enough to write off your car, but it did cause problems with your accelerator and your brake system. More than this, there was some damage done to your car’s appearance.

    So off you went and replaced some of the damaged parts, did some repairs on those parts that couldn’t be replaced, and gave it a coat of spray that made it look just like new again. Only, it wasn’t new, because you knew how much went into getting the outside to look perfect again, while under the paint work, you knew how many wrinkles and scratches were covered up. But everyone told you how great the car looked again, so you ignored the defects and made a point of getting back into your car to get to all the places you wanted to go.

    However, you didn’t do such a good job of the accelerator and the brake pedal. At times, the brakes would feel spongy and unreliable, so whenever you needed to use it, you doubted, until eventually the doubt grew so strong that you started driving slower than ever to avoid using it at all. Then you realises that the accelerator doesn’t feel the way it used to either. It used to feel firm and responsive, almost as decisive as you were, and it used to cause the car to lunge forward when you needed to, and to just cruise when it felt good to do so as well. But now, the accelerator was also unpredictable. At times it would accelerate beautifully, but without warning, the car would slow down almost to a halt for no reason. No matter how much you wanted it to move, pressing your foot on that pedal just wouldn’t get it to go.

    So you eventually decided that maybe the damage was more than you were capable of fixing, so you decided to go out looking for a mechanic, especially since all your friends and family kept telling you how great they are. The mechanic looks at the symptoms and quite quickly lets you know that with some work, it can be back to what it was, and with your consent, he set about fixing and upgrading the brakes to perform even better than before. Then he looked at the accelerator and found the cable to be loose. So he tightened the nut, and adjusted the cable and once again, the car was able to accelerate without any problems. He also tuned the car with some new equipment that wasn’t previously available, which made the car lighter on fuel, and faster than before.

    However, having had too many close shaves with the brakes and accelerator being faulty, and still remembering the impact of the accident, you keep holding back, wanting to reduce the risk of getting into another accident. The memory of the dents and scratches hidden by the new coat of paint still fresh in your mind, you start driving more cautiously than you ever did before. You slow down for no reason other than just in case, and you don’t even drive at the speed limit any longer, even though the car is perfectly capable of handling it. In fact, the car is now capable of performing better than it did when it was brand new because of the new technology they put in, yet you still drive it slower than ever.

    The crash caused by the other driver is what happens in life. They’re the people around us that we trust, but they end up being mindless in their actions that results in damage in our lives that they’re most often oblivious to. They move on and focus on their own lives, while we wait for someone to come along an fix us. The mechanic is modern medicine. A necessary intervention strategy, but nothing more. Able to recover most physical aspects of our health, but failing to remedy the emotional ravages of what took place.

    The wrinkles and scratches beneath the bright shiny paint work is the memories that haunt us, while the paint work is the face we show to the world when we pretend that everything is perfect. The new technologies are the life lessons learnt, that allows us to deal with future encounters more effectively and maturely, but we refuse to use it because of the fear of getting hit by another reckless driver. So instead, we plod along at a fraction of our capability from before the traumatic incident so that we can reduce as much as possible any potential for another impact that could send us spiralling out of control.

    The psychiatrist that so many believe in blindly have tools to re-establish mental pathways, but they don’t have the tools to make you use it. Again, at times, a necessary intervention strategy, but not a long term solution.

    Then there is you, the driver. Focused on the impact that hit you from nowhere, and too afraid to even consider having to deal with such an impact again. All the while, the distraction of that memory causes you not to notice that with the lessons learnt, your ability to avoid such impacts in future was significantly improved (upgrade of brakes and accelerator, knowledge of how situations like that occur, and what choices could have been taken differently, or could have been more informed), but instead of leveraging that knowledge that you have acquired through the experience for improving the way you navigate your way through life in future, you choose to avoid it instead. Your avoidance of those life experiences, of people, of interactions, is what causes you to slip into a depression where you refuse to acknowledge the tools and abilities you have at your disposal because you suddenly don’t trust yourself due to you blaming yourself for the reckless behaviour of that others.

    The thought almost always comes before the chemical reaction. And in cases where the chemical reaction may have been preventing the thought patterns to occur, the intervention strategies that are available provides us with the ability to kick start that process. Once that process is kick started, we have to apply our minds actively rather than rely on the intervention strategy to sustain us. The problem that many face these days is that they’re being told that the intervention strategy is in fact a long term dependency that they have no choice in. When we give up the choice to take control, only then does the intervention become the mechanism for survival, or even just to cope.

    Our inability to believe in ourselves is the most profitable outcome for the pharmaceutical companies quite possibly in the history of modern medicine. But we have drugs to distract us from that sad reality, that’s why we don’t even have the presence of mind to realise what it is that we’re capable of.

    I once heard someone say that the only way to cheat old age is to continue learning. The more we learn, the greater our ability to acquire new knowledge. Therefore, it is easier for someone with more knowledge to appreciate and intelligently apply new concepts, than it is for someone that hasn’t applied their minds much towards the acquisition of knowledge. When we discard our life experiences as bad memories that we’d rather forget, we effectively throw away priceless knowledge that could never be acquired through any other means. Books and doctors can only give you facts and assumptions, but only you will ever know the truth about you. Don’t suppress that truth, embrace it, and use it to build yourself up from strength to strength, realising that you decide what your limits are, not society.

  • Trust your psychiatrist at your own peril

    This is one of those moments that makes me realise that simple logic will always triumph above the most baffling academic bullshit. The simple truth is that we don’t have mental illnesses, nor mental disorders. We have disorders of perspective, and disorders of self-worth. The above documentary gets a lot of simple things right. It makes it plain to see that the ethics we rely on from health professionals is more often than not compromised.

    When greed starts driving medical professionals to recruit innocent children from as little as two and a half years old into their sick cycle of kickbacks, you know that humanity has reached a new low. The one single point that I disagree with in this video is that they still conclude by referring to it as mental problems. It’s not a mental problem, it’s a problem of perspective, and a low self-esteem. When we undermine our own self-worth, we automatically adopt labels to deride or dis-empower ourselves so that we can pacify ourselves into believing that there is something external to ourselves that we can blame for our current state.

    You first become a victim of your own self-worth before you become a victim of circumstance. The lack of ethics exposed in the above documentary is in no way limited to just the field of psychiatry. Think before you pop that next pill.

  • The Failure of Modern Medicine

    My biggest contention with modern medicine is that it provides, at best, a good intervention strategy but rarely encourages a wholesome approach to good health. I believe that the key deficiency in their approach is the fact that they start out with the assumption that there is no soul. This isn’t as ludicrous an observation as it may appear to be.

    For those of us that believe we have a soul which is interdependent with our physical form, we believe that the soul is the seat of intelligence, while the body is the seat of desire, or physical needs, so to speak. So what we think causes us to influence our physical form in ways that we’re still unravelling. The problem with modern medicine therefore is that they only study the effect of that thought independent of the thought itself, which leaves them believing that the symptom is in fact the root cause.

    Allow me to explain. When we consider chemical balances or imbalances, we automatically assume that the current state of the chemicals is what gives rise to certain behavioural tendencies. For example, when we have a high level of serotonin, we assume that the person is predisposed to being happy, while those with a low level of serotonin are assumed to be predisposed towards depression or stress. This is a very simplistic example that could probably be argued from various technical perspectives, but the point I’m trying to make is that we look at the current physical state and assume that to be a marker of the mental state, when in fact the reverse is true. The physical state is the symptom of the mental state, and not the other way around.

    I often feel anxious and frustrated when I think about how much more effective modern approaches to health would be if they just stopped being pigheaded about their insistence that nothing is true unless scientifically proven, instantly rendering the wisdom of the ages of holistic health remedies irrelevant simply because the remedies were not derived using present-day research methods.

    I have this recurring scenario that plays out in my mind each time I think of this where someone from a land that has never been contaminated with technology hears a human voice being projected out of a device that has no physical connection to anything or anyone and therefore assumes that some sort of magic is being used to do so, not realising that it’s simply a battery powered radio. Such is the nature of the most brilliant minds in the scientific research communities that because they have yet to find a way to harness, measure, or accurately observe what is commonly referred to as the paranormal, they view it with cynicism despite not having the answers.

    I guess the point I’m trying to make is that when we find someone in a state of emotional stress, or even physical duress, unless there is a physical defect present, it is most probable that the cause of it is an imbalance between what they desire and what they believe they are allowed to have. I’ve often seen that people with severe stress at the office usually end up in such a state because their jobs demand that they behave or produce work that conflicts with their value system. The same is true in life. When we try to control those things that fall outside our sphere of influence rather than accepting it for what it is, we end up feeling persecuted in ways that rarely occur to us in our conscious mind.

    The worst fallacy in modern medicine has to be its insistence that we are a victim of the chemical make-up of our physical forms, rather than appreciating that there is a seat of intelligence that exists alongside the physical form that they so painstakingly study. It’s like the ridiculous assumption that the Greeks made when they believed that our eyes emitted beams of light that allowed us to see, failing to understand that what our eyes observed was merely what existed external to ourselves. Similarly, the body is a vessel that harbours the soul, and therefore is used to express the desires and needs of that soul. When we fool ourselves into believing that that physical form is what dictates the health of our emotional state, that is when we become victims to our circumstances and effectively give up our ability to choose and think intelligently.

  • Who do you love?

    I so often hear people giving others advice about how they should overcome negative sentiments about themselves, and I keep wondering if it’s realistic? The advice most often rendered is ‘love yourself’. Isn’t that the same like telling someone that is depressed to be happy?

    I think if we dislike ourselves, it’s not because we simply dislike ourselves, but in fact it’s because there is little that we’re doing or achieving that we find reason to be proud about. Either that, or we’re seeking affirmation from quarters that are uninterested or oblivious to how important they are in our lives. So when someone seems not to like themselves, when they’re self-harming, being reckless with their health or well-being, or just being morbid about life, I somehow doubt that telling them to love themselves is going to change all that.

    I really believe that happiness is not a choice, but is in fact a state that is achieved as a result of other conditions or achievements in our lives. Similarly I would argue that dislike for oneself is a result of inactivity or lack of achievement in things that would bring one joy. I guess, at the risk of over-simplifying it, I think it all comes down to what we use as points of reference in our lives. Those points of reference can sometimes be role models, or at other times it could simply be peer pressure. But identifying what about those role models or peers it is that influences us to want to aspire to fit their expectations is key to realising whether or not the reasons for such self-dislike is in fact warranted to begin with.

    But even that doesn’t quite answer the question, or resolve the issue. I think the low self esteem finds its roots first in trying to please others, which is easy enough to set in during childhood when we least realise the impact of such a disappointment. This later serves as a distraction that leads us to believe that just because we didn’t measure up to our chosen points of reference, we’re incapable of achieving anything meaningful in our lives. I can barely recall the number of times that I assumed the best of someone, immersed myself into the relationship relative to what prestige they enjoyed in my mind, only to meet a rude awakening when they behaved far short of what I believed their true nature to be.

    Sometimes I think we just expect too little from ourselves, and too much from others. Or perhaps that’s just a vicious cycle as well. Our expectations of others are equally as high as their expectations of us, but their expectations of themselves is just as low as our expectations of ourselves. So while we’re beating ourselves up and restraining ourselves from realising our true potential, we’re betraying the expectations of someone else, while they’re doing the same to us. Such is the cycle of stupidity when we measure our self-worth by the veneer of society.

    I guess the point is that if we are going to choose a role model, or an ideal to aspire to, we need to be sure that what we’re setting as an objective is in fact the reality of what we really want.

  • The Fragility of Trust

    A question I received from a friend this morning coincided with something I was considering yesterday. I wondered why it’s sometimes easy to trust, and at other times it’s nearly impossible. Why does it seem so easy for some to walk away from depression, while others are haunted with it for most of their lives? In fact, why is depression so closely linked to issues of trust and betrayal?

    I think that sometimes it’s a balance we have to strike between wanting to trust, and not caring about the potential of betrayal. At some point we will accept that there’s a certain amount of risk we’re willing to take because we’re confident enough to deal with the consequences of a potential breach of that trust. So the reality is that we trust more easily when we have a greater sense of self, or perhaps a greater level of confidence in our ability to be resilient in the face of betrayal. Unfortunately the very nature of the issue drives us to defend or protect our fragility and vulnerability in the aftermath of betrayal, and quite quickly, without noticing, we end up stuck in that cycle not realising that we’re only as vulnerable or as fragile as our ability to rise above it.

    I’ve previously said that a healthy self-esteem is the greatest gift any parent can give their child. That self-esteem must inform the way they view themselves, their choices, and the associated outcomes. It must teach them that no matter what bad things may happen to them in life, the only part of the encounter that defines them is how they chose to respond, and never what was presented. The power of choice, and more importantly, the realisation of that power of choice, is the key to unlocking our resilience. But resilience, like happiness and humility, are only end states, but not a skill or trait in itself. Our belief in our own principles and convictions, and our courage to stand up for it in the face of ridicule is what determines (in part) our level of resilience.

    Unless we believe in ourselves, we’ll find it impossible to believe in anyone else, and by extension, it will be impossible to trust. Under such circumstances, it’s easy to confuse a hopeless surrender and dependence on others as trust. When we undermine ourselves, we empower our enemies, and like they say, the friend of my enemy is my enemy. So it stands to reason that that is how we become our own worst enemies.

  • Humility and Happiness is not a choice

    We often look at humility and consider how it can’t be acquired, because the very effort to acquire humility will be the result of an arrogant indulgence. Then there is the cliché quoted by many that the profession of humility is in itself arrogance, which has much truth in it. What isn’t so obvious though is that the pursuit of humility is equally arrogant. Humility is similar to happiness. It can’t be acquired on its own, but is in fact the outcome of something else. That may sound absurd, but in reality, it’s not the act of trying to be of a happy disposition that makes us happy, but rather the satisfying outcomes of various activities and choices that leads to a state of happiness.

    Humility is something that we witness in others, but the moment we think of ourselves as humble, or we do something with the intention of being humble, then the underlying motivation for that would be that we’re considering ourselves to be pious or good, which is arrogance. So when you see someone that appears to be humble, consider that maybe their action is driven by shyness, insecurity, a lack of confidence, or many other attributes that undermine our ability to achieve our full potential, but because we can’t see what their motivation is to do what they do, we assume they’re humble.

    However, the pursuit of happiness within this context is not tainted in the same way that a pursuit of humility is. What we witness as humility is often not an intended humility on the part of the person that we’re observing. More often than not, humility is a result of insecurity, shame, modesty, shyness, embarrassment, etc. In other words, when someone is in a situation where they seem overwhelmed by the gravity of it, or the significance of it relative to their own stature, their act or response may appear humble even though the motivation behind it may be fear or disillusionment, or a feeling of being dis-empowered or overwhelmed.

    With happiness, the same principles apply. We often hear of people that appeared to be happy and carefree, only to hear of their suicide a few days later. Their appearance of happiness may have been a choice, but it obviously had no substance. This, along with a few other life experiences prompted me to reflect on the truth behind the statement that if we choose to be happy, we will be, and that no one can stop us from being so. This is dangerously false. It leads many to believe that simply making the choice is sufficient. It’s not. It never has been. Happiness has always been a state that was achieved when other aspects of my life were in line with my needs or expectations. Happiness was never something I experienced independent of those experiences.

    Unsurprisingly, the current approach to the ‘pursuit of happyness’  is in line with the prevalent mentality that was spawned by ‘The Secret’. I have never seen so many delusional people in my life. People that walk around believing that being positive yields positive results. It doesn’t. If it did, it would mean that the proverbial bull would never charge at you if you were a vegetarian. The logic simply does not add up. However, take that same positive attitude and couple it with a focus on opportunities and beneficial outcomes to drive your actions, and suddenly you have a recipe that will allow you to take control of how you respond to situations, rather than how you simply perceive them.

    It may sound like a play on words, but it really isn’t. I engage with people on a daily basis that have this false belief that they can choose to be happy or sad. They can’t. How many times haven’t you tried to be sad or grumpy when someone came along, or something unexpected happened that put an instant and sincere smile on your face? This further cements my argument that happiness is a state that is achieved as a result of our actions in line with our desires or needs, and is most certainly not simply a choice we make. The moment we are compelled, or at least feel compelled to act contrary to our value system or our ethics, that state of happiness eludes us, and instead, is replaced by a state of anxiety and stress.

    For the same reason, a poor man can find contentment in his life, while a man of excessive wealth will find it impossible to have a peaceful night’s sleep.

  • Letting Go

    Most people automatically associate the phrase ‘letting go’ with love and romance. The angsty teenager with the broken heart, or the distraught divorcee, or the one who lost a loved one. It’s so easy to allow the requisite time for mourning to pass before feeling comfortable enough to boldly tell someone to let go and move on. But let go of what? Move on to where?

    Sometimes I find it akin to hanging off the edge of a cliff holding on to a rope in the hope that something will change at some point which will make my hanging from that cliff meaningful or significant. I hold on to that rope for dear life’s sake, more in fear of what will happen if I let go, rather than because I want to hold on. Perhaps my holding on is inspired by the hope that someone may find me worthy enough to want to save me from the fall? I find the same to be true in life outside of romance or human relationships. So many erroneously assume that the act of letting go is what is important, when in fact the need to not want to hold on is really what matters.

    When we focus on letting go, we end up seeking out replacements or alternatives to make up for what we’re supposedly giving up, when in fact we’re not giving up anything, but instead only filling the same gaping hole with a different object. With this realisation I find myself back on that cliff holding on to that rope for dear life, not for a second realising that life hanging off the edge of a cliff is really not much of a life at all.

    Perhaps the cliff analogy is somewhat extreme, but the principles of dealing with reality in the face of inevitability remain the same. We’d much rather hold on to what is familiar than let go in the belief that something better may be acquired. Sometimes we dismiss this insecurity and neediness as pragmatism, or reality, when in fact it’s simply fear. Crippling fear that if we got it wrong once, or if we lost once, we cannot afford to allow ourselves into a situation that would hold the potential of such fear or loss again. And there begins the cycle of self defeat where we assure ourselves of our limitations and pretend to accept it graciously when in fact we’re really just protecting ourselves from the unknown.

    Sometimes we deny this fear and camouflage it with misplaced courage sub-consciously trying to prove that we’re not damaged or dependent on those that betrayed us, and so we pretend to boldly pursue new challenges or opportunities, when in fact all we’re doing is trying to pacify ourselves, and dissuade others from seeing the weakness and the wounds that fester beneath the surface. One scarce talent, it seems, is our ability to accept our true worth before we embrace our limitations. We’re prone to believing that we’re flawed before we believe in our ability to succeed.

    It seems we live in a time when society thrives on the insecurities of others. Our self worth is determined by how much we’re able to fill in those gaps for others, so much so that we are in tune with what others need more than we have any inkling about what we need for ourselves. The trick, I believe, is not to know how to please someone else, but rather how to find someone that is pleased by similar values and virtues as yourself. There is much truth in the saying that love is not two people looking at each other, but rather two people looking in the same direction. It’s just a pity that most people are aimless in their wanderings to find a life worth living.

    Too much emphasis is placed on the contribution of others towards determining the happiness we experience. We’re prone to waiting for life to happen while finding distractions to fill in the gaps of loneliness and purpose, instead of embracing life while being entertained by the distractions. And the same is true for bad habits, social failures, or career bumps. We look at the failure or the setback as a defining experience of who we are, rather than a defining experience of the bad choices we made. Rather than kicking ourselves when we get something wrong, we should remind ourselves that there is much dignity and reward in reflection on the reasons for the bad choices we made, acceptance of the fact that each experience affords us an opportunity to make more informed choices in the future, and the ultimate goal of evolving beyond being a creature of habit, and instead becoming a creature of choice.

    The only thing worth letting go of (it seems) is letting go. Instead, we should embrace, reflect, inform, and persevere. Otherwise we may as well just hold on to that rope for dear life’s sake, hoping that someone will come along at some point and feel sorry enough to want to help us out of our stupor, so that we can start yet another cycle of neediness that ends in pain when the one we need cannot bear the burden of being needed so desperately.

  • Born Restless

    The only constant emotion that I can recall in my life is restlessness. Perhaps it’s a state more than it is an emotion. I don’t care. The net effect remains the same. There is little that I can leave untouched. I have an incessant need to unravel issues that plague myself or others. I can’t let sleeping dogs lie (all puns intended). There are too many dogs that pretend to be asleep and in so doing they lie through their fangs in their efforts to garner social acceptance or admiration. They’re dogs, regardless of their pretenses.

    The heart of mental illnesses lies in society, and not in the brain. There is no chemical imbalance that can be righted in order for it to right the betrayals of society at large, and significant others at the least. So instead of contending with the elephant in the room, we’d much rather pretend that we have a mental illness to deal with. At times like this I feel mentally ill. The same restlessness creeps into every thought pattern and disrupts my focus leading to angsty drivel that aspires to become a meaningful post. But I know that this restlessness is not an illness. It’s simply the reality of my attempts to live consciously.

    We’re all alone. No matter how big our social circles may appear, deep down inside only we understand the gravity of being who we are, and what we fear. The social circles are just a distraction from this reality, but in no way erases that loneliness. It’s all just a distraction, but it’s a very effective distraction which is why we’re amusing ourselves to death, only to realise too late that we were in fact distracting ourselves from life. It’s therefore no surprise that avenues like social networking and technical gadgetry are increasingly popular to all generations and not just the young ‘uns any longer. We all need the distractions equally.

    The problem is not in the distractions, or how they’re being abused. Those are just symptoms. The true problem is in a society that sees the need for escape as being a mental illness. The problem lies in academics that lack any real life experiences but feel accomplished enough because of a piece of paper to pronounce their judgement on the mental state of others without even considering the reality of life. That’s why we have the ridiculously high levels of bipolar disorder that is diagnosed in all spectrums of society, let alone depression and so many other abused terms of mental illness.

    In a dysfunctional society it’s next to impossible to find a healthy support structure to avoid the temptation of labelling our mental states. Support structures are not synonymous with support groups, but are in fact the family structures and community networks that talk to the village raising a kid, rather than the village raising an idiot. The collective responsibility of society has long been abandoned in favour of individual appeasement and selfish goals.

    The restlessness I feel is born out of this same dysfunction. But according to many, I could successfully be diagnosed with a mental illness because I have an insatiable desire to see wholesome values and communal living that is morally grounded realised in my lifetime. Perhaps I am mad. Perhaps my restlessness is in fact insanity. Perhaps my desire for old school values is merely my distraction from a society that has evolved beyond such wholesomeness. Perhaps I am that sane man that is compared to an insane society, and because the mirror with which I reflect on my life is that insane society, it is entirely possible that I may appear insane. Worse than this is the innocent soul that lacks such a realisation and still seeks affirmation from that same insane society.