To say or not to say

One of the problems anyone with depression and/or dysthymia will come up against is the problem of "coming out" as it were. How much should you say about your condition, and to whom?? Unfortunately there are not any easy answers to these questions. Also, unfortunately, the consequences for telling people what you are going through can be pretty  high, both socially and professionally. As if we did not already have enough shit to deal with. Some random thoughts on the matter below:



There are two kinds of people: those who divide the world into two groups, and those who don't.

OK.

Another two kinds of people: those who will be empathetic toward you and your condition, and those who will not. I wanted to say, "Those who will understand and those who will not" but that is, I think, not the most important axis to look at, though there is, of course, a pretty large overlap between those who understand and those who will be empathetic. However, there is also a group of people who have no idea what you are going through but who will still manage to be supportive and empathetic in useful ways.

So, a taxonomy:

1) People who will not be empathetic: This is, alas, a large group. They will not understand, quite possibly just don't want to understand, and they can't be convinced that there is anything there that they don't understand. You know these people: they are the ones who tell you to buck up, to stop being such a goddamned baby, and etc. There WILL be people in your family like this. And, unfortunately among this group you might have potential employers, which is why I have chosen to remain anonymous online. The stigma of our condition is not what it once was. (In 1972, the presidential campaign of George McGovern was devastated by the revelation that his vice presidential candidate, Thomas Eagleton, had been treated for depression. When word got out, Eagleton had to remove his name from the ticket.) But there are still enough people who are willing to think the worst about us that, regarding public announcements, it may be best to be safe. This is, of course, unfortunate, and we face a difficult short term future with this: more of us need to "come out" so that the larger public can accept our condition for what it is, while at the same time, some of us will surely pay very high prices, socially and professionally, for doing so.

2) People who will be empathetic, even though they don't really understand. This group might be sub-divided into two further groups:
a)  The first group consists of people for whom you condition is like an alien life form: well beyond comprehension. Still, they are good people who will try to help, even if the help involves saying things that are not all that useful  ("Lot's of people have far worse lives than  yours...."). These people are good for going to the movies with! So, some patience with them is in order.
b)Those who will understand that they don't understand, but who will try, out of affection for you, to really understand what you are going through. These people will try to help out, and indeed can be some of our best advocates. These people are likely to say things like, "What can I do??" They know what they don't know, as it were, but are willing to take the necessary cues from you.

3) People who have been there. They know absolutely what you are going through. These people can be gold. Obviously everyone who has been through it will not be your friend. The same laws of human interaction apply, and two people who do not get along are not going to become friends just because they both know depression. But, in my experience, people who have been there are really the only ones who can truly know what you are going through. You need to spend several hours weeping to another human being? Only this group will do. (Group 2a will do as well, I guess. But they will not have nearly the same level of patience!)

Another point, on the topic of what to say to whom. And, again, this is all based on MY experience. Your mileage etc... But, when you tell someone you are depressed or have dysthymia, you are placing a burden on them. This isn't true for all people but it is true for many. And by burden, I mean this: you are telling them something that demands, by social convention, some sort of response. A supportive response. But many people do not know how to respond. It is, I think, much like telling someone you have cancer. Many people know how to respond, (Oh my god, I'm so sorry, is there anything I can do?) but many are made uncomfortable, do not know  how to respond, and their discomfort with the magnitude of the revelation is exacerbated by their deeply feel awareness that they do not know how to respond. Let's face: we generally are not taught how to respond to statements such as "I have breast cancer" or "I have depression." What we learn growing up (unless you are dysthymic, of course) is how to engage in the small-talk that is our primary social lubricant.

I say all this because there can be a horrible downside to telling someone, especially if that someone is someone you respect, admire, have great affection for, someone you hope will be a group 2b person or even a group 3person:   That person might not handle the burden well, might not know how to respond. And that person might disappear from your life, driven away by the discomfort of their own inability to respond.  And the pain of that will be just another emotional kick in the gut for you.

Update: This post from Making Lemonade Out of This Shit has a nice rundown of responses the author heard from people when she decided to check into an inpatient program for depression treatment. The response of "Friend" 1 was especially maddening: You know, I was depressed for like a week about a month ago.  I went to work and came home and watched TV until midnight.  For like a week straight.  But, I started going to yoga and snapped out of it.“ We hear that sort of thing altogether too often.