Overview of the Problem of Depression
Depression is an insidious vacuum that crawls into your brain and pushes your mind out of the way. It is the complete absence of rational thought. It is freezing cold, with a dangerous, horrifying, terrifying fog wafting throughout whatever is left of your mind.
Unemployed female, age 27
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent.
King David, Psalms 22:1, 2 (NIV)
NARRATIVES
Siroj
My encounter with depression started with a series of stressful events around mid-1993. I had been under stress for three months due to a work situation that created conflicted feelings within me. The event that initiated me fully into clinical depression, however, took place in September. I received a phone call from a friend around 6:30 a.m. and was informed that, according to the 5:00 morning news, my Aunt Sansiri’s house had caught fire earlier that morning. I grew up spending lots of time with her and her family. I was shocked by the news and immediately rushed to pick up this friend before heading toward my aunt’s home. On the way I kept thinking about what I could do to help relocate my Aunt Sansiri, my cousin, my cousin’s husband, and their two daughters (a three-year-old and an eight-month-old). In my mind I pictured many other houses in the vicinity being burnt as well, and the occupants standing in front of them with luggage and whatever other belongings they could save from the fire. Before we arrived, my friend, with some hesitation in her voice, told me very quietly that, according to the news, a few deaths had resulted from this fire. I did not pay much attention. When I pulled my car in front of Aunt Sansiri’s house I saw sixty to seventy people gathered around her house—the only house that was consumed by fire. I heard neighbors say, “We heard women screaming for help but there was nothing we could do.” This tragic accident took the lives of Aunt Sansiri, my cousin, her husband, and my nieces. I sat in front of the house with tears swelling in my eyes but fought to keep control. I did not want to cry in front of my friend. I wanted to look strong, but I was all broken up inside.
The following week, I spent a major portion of my time at the hospital identifying the charred bodies and completing the necessary paperwork, arranging the funeral service, meeting relatives, arranging for compensation for the two domestic helpers that died in the fire, etc. I did not have time to process my own feelings.
Exactly one month later I started developing strange feelings. I could not understand what was going on with me. My energy level dropped drastically, and I had a very difficult time getting up in the morning. I was unable to sleep and I found myself staying awake until three or four in the morning. I would watch two or three movies in the night just to pass the time. One night while lying in bed I felt a deep sense of sadness and asked my wife to please hold me. With her arms around me, I sobbed and sobbed. She asked me what was happening, but I could not tell her. A few words that came to my mind were despair, doom, and hopelessness.
An incredible darkness invaded my life. I could not concentrate. Every recollection of the past was dreadful. My thoughts were racing and I could not stop them. I kept asking myself why I could not snap out of it, but that was not an option. I wondered what had happened to my faith. Many nights I found myself praying for God to please take this away from me but to no avail. The feeling of guilt was overwhelming. Every little misdeed could trigger an inordinate amount of guilt. I went to see three physicians and told them my extreme fatigue and these strange sensations. None could tell me what was wrong, and this further complicated my problem. It was not until I came to the Claremont School of Theology and registered for the course, “Diagnostic Studies in Psychiatry and Religion,” that I finally understood my problem.
Sandra
Sandra came to Loma Linda Behavioral Medicine Center one day without an appointment. Her close friend had just died. Sandra was suicidal. She was hoping to see someone, but after a long wait, Sandra walked out. At the door she met a counselor who noticed that Sandra was in deep emotional pain. “Don’t go now,” said the counselor. “You need to talk to someone. I will get you in to talk to the chaplain.” That was the first of many meetings with Sandra, during which she revealed her life story.
When Sandra was seven years old her mother often left her with her grandfather, who was a convicted pedophile and had been incarcerated. Although her mother was well aware of this situation, she continued to leave Sandra with him. For the next two years Sandra suffered sexual molestation by her grandfather.
When she was ten her father molested her. Sandra recalled the many nights she stared out the window looking at the stars. “I learned to dissociate myself while he was doing it,” said Sandra. “I wasn’t there.” She also remembered the extreme rage of her father and the script that is still operant in her subconscious mind, “You are bad. You are worth nothing. You are a piece of shit!” Many nights when her father came home she would hear him say, “Wipe that look off your face!” She did not know what that look was and did not know how to change her expression. Getting beaten for it was a common experience for her. She could do no right. “There was one thing I did well,” said Sandra. “I was a very good student. My parents never saw my report cards nor cared to see them. In fact they were upset that I received awards from school.” She was told when she came home with good grades that she was arrogant and that she brought shame to the family.
One day, as an adolescent, when she arrived home from school she saw a yellow cordon around the house, with an ambulance, police cars, and many people gathered around. She was told as she walked toward the house that her dad had shot himself in the heart. “There was blood all over the kitchen area and I was very scared,” recalled Sandra.
At the age of nineteen she got married and quickly became pregnant. Less than a year after her marriage, someone cut in front of her car on the freeway. The accident left her in a coma for three days. The impact of the accident caused the baby to be aborted. After coming out of the coma, she went through many operations for the reconstruction of her cheekbones. A brain scan showed a very low level of neurotransmitters, which made her more vulnerable to depression. Since the accident, Sandra had been in therapy for over twenty years trying to deal with her grief and depression. During the course of treatment she was sexually molested by one of her psychotherapists.
Sandra’s family had a history of psychiatric symptoms. Her maternal grandfather suffered from depression and was hospitalized for a long time. Her mother was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and Sandra’s eldest daughter is presently experiencing depression. Sandra’s father had a history of depression as well as a heart condition, and ultimately committed suicide.
Besides her family history and her traumatic childhood experience, she had gone through two divorces (her first husband was very controlling and abusive). Sandra complains of “blue days” without any trigger. Every ordinary daily task becomes a huge performance that takes extraordinary effort. “I hate it when people tell me ‘Why can’t you just snap out of it?’ You can’t snap out of depression. You just can’t!” mourned Sandra.
THE MEANING OF DEPRESSION
We all encounter depression at some point in our lives. We use the term depression to describe instances when we do not perform well on our examinations, when we get into an argument with our spouse, or when conflict occurs at our workplace. This type of depression is very different from clinical depression. The clinically depressed person, according to Dayringer, is the person who is “so depressed as to have physiological symptoms.”
The benchmark for clinical depression, compared to normal sadness, depends on the intensity, severity, and duration of symptoms. Generally, if the depressed mood and associated symptoms last for more than two weeks, and if they are of sufficient intensity to interfere with ordinary daily activities, this is considered a clinical depressive syndrome.2
Gotlib and Hammen define clinical depression as “depressed mood along with a set of additional symptoms persisting over time, and causing disruption and impairment of functioning.”3
David Karp, after interviewing fifty persons in treatment for depression, identified four stages that most people experience: (1) a period where they do not have the vocabulary to describe their experience of depression; (2) a phase where they realize that something is really wrong with them; (3) a crisis stage that thrusts them into the hands of therapists; and (4) a phase where they come to accept their illness identity.4
In the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV), depression is an Axis I diagnosis, which is categorized as a mood disorder. Although mood disorders include depressive disorders, bipolar disorders, mood disorder due to a general medical condition, and substance-induced mood disorder, this book is limited to only the understanding of depressive disorders (major depressive disorder, dysthymic disorder and depressive disorder not otherwise specified). The diagnosis criteria for major depressive episode are:
A. Five (or more) of the following symptoms have been present during the same 2-week period and represent a change from previous functioning; at least one of the symptoms is either (1) depressed mood or (2) loss of interest or pleasure.
1. depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, as indicated by either subjective report (e.g., feels sad or empty) or observation made by others (e.g., appears tearful). Note: In children and adolescents, can be irritable mood.
2. markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day (as indicated by either subjective account or observation made by others).
3. significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain (e.g., a change of more than 5 percent of body weight in a month), or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day. Note: In children, consider failure to make expected weight gains.
4. insomnia or hypersomnia nearly every day.
5. psychomotor agitation...