Saturday, February 21, 2009

Depression - the Inner Prison

"I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on earth. Whether I shall be better, I can not tell. To remain as I am is impossible. I must die or be better. - Abraham Lincoln

When we have a toothache or a broken leg, our mind can perceive the pain and the discomfort. But when our brain is sick, the mind is incapable to receive solace or comfort from any source, until we take care of it as we would with our physical illness. There's a conspiracy of silence when it comes to mental illnes, which further communicates that it's not an acceptable illness.

Last Wednesday, our friend Bill was laid to rest from his own struggle with depression. He shot himself in the public restroom at city hall. Bill was a complex person and that's what made him annoying but interesting. We love him nonetheless and I always suspected something was not right with him, but no one talked about it, until it was too late. I never talked about Don's mentall illness either until after he died. My silence was to protect him, not me. But really, why? Because there's still a stigma attached to mental illness, and this is why I have become an advocate for speaking publicly about it.

In America almost half of the population carry a concealed Xanax or Prozac. Few would go see a shrink because it's more acceptable and cheaper to go to the "happy hour''- euphemism for numbing our pain. In some way or another we all walk in this world with a limp. We all need a crutch - some are balanced by anti-depressants, others by Smith and Wesson and still others, by Red Horse.

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