On October 30, 2007, a story was posted at the living section of www.cnn.com, written by Lisa Kogan, who writes for O magazine and www.oprah.com. The story is entitled “Funny Woman’s Unbelievably Busy Day.” Lisa Kogan is a single mother and her writing is vivid and snappy. However, when she gets to 4:02pm in her busy day, the entry reads as follows:
4:02 p.m. I get up again. I am ghostwriting a book, and four chapters are due by Wednesday morning. Clinical depression is a luxury I can’t afford.
And this is where i take issue with the article.
I have had clinical depression. A Major Depressive Episode topped off with OCD for some added excitement. I am here to tell you that in no way is Clinical depression a luxury. Now she may have been using the expression in a joking sarcastic manner, but that even makes it worse. As a mother who has suffered Postpartum depression, I have judged myself. I have felt as if others are judging me. I have been judged by others. It is a harsh cruel world. The Depression I experienced was anything but luxurious. I was unable to take care of myself, unable to shower, unable to care for my daughters, our dogs, my husband – and he bore the brunt of my outbursts. I was angry with him for no reason. He could say the nicest thing to me and I would yell at him. I spent a lot of time angry, a lot of time with horrible thoughts about myself and my daughters floating through my head. I finally landed in the hospital with my second round of this so called “luxury of depression.” Yes, I slept for two days which may sound luxurious, but trust me, sleeping at a mental ward is miles away from luxury. The pillows are as flat as paper, you are guaranteed roommates who may or may not be as sane as you currently perceive yourself to be, and worse yet, there are the other patients on the ward who are almost guaranteed to be well, frightening to a mother who’s not sure what exactly is wrong with her. We have all walked our own path that has led us to this place where we are seeking and desperately hoping for help – a return to the person we believe we can be. For some of us that dream is a reality, for others, unfortunately, it is not. But we all deserve just as much compassion, care, love, and respect from the outside world regarding our mental health status, whatever the diagnoses may be for us.
I wouldn’t wish clinical depression on anyone – not Ms. Kogan, not any mother. But some of us experience it and this is why I write my blog, why I volunteer with PSI, why I founded PACE – so those of us who do suffer can find hope and compassion. Now THAT is a luxury I can afford for myself and to pay forward – sweet support. (And sweet support is also a luxury that EVERY mother deserves to have!)
Don’t take her comment too seriously. I suffer from depression as well, cyclothymia to be specific, but that doesn’t keep me from joking about it. It’s en grained in our society that when someone has “the crazies,” whether clinical or otherwise… it’s funny.
Oh, I joke about my postpartum depression on a regular basis with my husband. But never have I referred to it as a luxury because well, it’s just not. The word luxury is defined in the dictionary as:
1. a material object, service, etc., conducive to sumptuous living, usually a delicacy, elegance, or refinement of living rather than a necessity: Gold cufflinks were a luxury not allowed for in his budget.
2. free or habitual indulgence in or enjoyment of comforts and pleasures in addition to those necessary for a reasonable standard of well-being: a life of luxury on the French Riviera.
3. a means of ministering to such indulgence or enjoyment: This travel plan gives you the luxury of choosing which countries you can visit.
4. a pleasure out of the ordinary allowed to oneself: the luxury of an extra piece of the cake.
5. a foolish or worthless form of self-indulgence: the luxury of self-pity.
6. Archaic. lust; lasciviousness; lechery.
–adjective 7. of, pertaining to, or affording luxury: a luxury hotel.
And yes, definition #5 states a foolish or worthless form of self-indulgence; the luxury of self-pity but depression is so much deeper than that. As you have experienced, it is not something we can just “snap” out of whenever we want to. It is sad that it has become so ingrained in society that those who have mental health issues are a source of amusement for others. It shouldn’t be sad either – it should be cause for concern and viewed as an opportunity with which to truly care for someone as opposed to making fun of them.
Just my opinion though.
I agree with you, Lauren. I joke about my PPD when I am comfortable and I’m with people who know me,etc. But in reading that line I took offense to it. I think it was an insensitive comment that should have been re thought. My depression isn’t used as a means of getting out of things and it’s almost as if her implication is that clinical depression is a way out of things, it’s a break from real life. If that’s the case, I’ll take real like because the depression part SUCKS!
I’d certainly take real life over depression any day too – depression does indeed suck!