Join Dan and his guest Steve Newman in a chat about clinical depression. The chat starts at noon. You can post your questions now.
For those who have never experienced clinical depression, it can be hard to understand. For most people, it is just a depressed mood, something most of us get over in a brief period. With a bad mood, most people can function with a pretty clear mind. It can be painful, but no big deal.
But for about 20 percent of us who have or will experience clinical depression, it's a very big deal. Clinical depression affects the way we think and the way we experience ourselves in the world. It affects relationships and our ability to accurately interpret information.
A young woman I treated years ago said that she felt like a diamond inside a malignant tumor and didn't know if she would live or die.
A recent colleague said he felt as if his brain were oatmeal and that he couldn't think properly.
When I suffered clinical depression, I felt like a frightened, confused child pretending to be a psychologist. And feeling like a sham made the anxiety, depression and shame so much worse.
Steve Newman had his first episode of depression when he was in seventh grade. A good student, he had a precipitous drop in grades and felt lost for much of his youth. Although his IQ was measured in the top 10 percent nationally, he graduated high school in the bottom five percent of his class.
When I spoke with him, he said his poor transcripts reflected the efforts of someone who didn't expect to live more than a few more years. Somehow, his father got him into a local college which is where he first heard the word "depression."
He said his depression felt like climbing a mountain when a storm hits. Any thoughts of going upward were beaten down by cold rain and wind. Going down was also impossible because of the same elements. He said his goal in life was just hanging on.
A colleague once told me that depression is experienced from the outside in, that people on the outside can see it before the depressed person knows it.
Such was the case with Steve. That was true for me too.
Mine started several years after I became a quadriplegic as I felt my wife pulling away. My mind began to race and I worried all the time. I felt increasingly insecure and said almost nothing in meetings, fearful that what was occurring inside would become visible on the outside.
But I didn't even know I was depressed until one of my nurses told me that I looked as if I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Once I realized that what was going on inside my head was visible on the outside, I knew I was depressed and sought treatment.
Depression can affect a litany of things from sleeping and eating patterns to concentration and memory. It can induce guilt and a feeling of worthlessness.
And although only a small minority of those with depression attempt suicide, it's not unusual to think about wanting to die. I recall thinking that life was just too difficult and painful to go on. I didn't want to die, but my suffering was unbearable.
There are many types of depression. The causes, too, are varied, but most have a genetic link. I had a mild predisposition as there was dysthymia, a low grade form of depression, in my family. Steve had bipolar disorder in his family.
Most people with depression get better with treatment. And gold standard care for depression is a combination of medication and psychotherapy.
Prognosis is tied directly to the duration and frequency of episodes. That's because depression has a powerful negative effect on the brain and the longer it lasts, the more likely one is to have a second episode. And once that happens, patients are at far higher risk for even more episodes.
My depression diminished significantly with medication and psychotherapy. And when I see the first sign of depression, I'm on the telephone with my psychopharmacologist.
Steve has not been so lucky. He has what is called a drug resistant depression and although he has tried almost all medication and several kinds of psychotherapy, he still suffered.
In 2005 he heard about the Transcranial-Magnetic Stimulation program run by John P. O'Reardon at the University of Pennsylvania. This program has recently been approved by the FDA and uses magnets strategically placed near one's scalp to diminish depressive symptoms.
It's another promising treatment for an illness we're all still struggling to understand.
I gave a talk last week at Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church. The topic was "is happiness necessary?" Before my presentation I was asked to have dinner with several church members had someone home where I was approached by an elderly gentleman and his wife. The man looked to be in his mid-80s and his wife appeared 10 years younger. Clearly there was something cognitively amiss with his wife as she immediately began to touch, almost caress my face and say "you look like such a nice person". She then picked up my necktie and commented about how pretty it was. Not knowing how impaired she was, I said that it was from the Boys and Girls Club. She gave me a warm maternal smile and said "that's so nice. You have somewhere to go after school." At which point her husband told me she had Alzheimer's.
During my speech they sat near the front row so I could see that she was in understanding much of what I had to say. But when I finished, she was one of the first people to come to the stage. With tears in her eyes she said to me: "yes, it is about love. Everything that is important is about love" and then we hugged.
Dan's guest for this chat will be Kim Fendrick. She is a clinical social worker in private practice in Haddonfield and she is a Holocaust survivor. During the seizure in Poland, she and her family spent many months in the darkness of a secret basement under the barn of a courageous farmer in Poland.
I've been interested in resilience since I became a quadriplegic 30 years ago. When I went through rehab, many of us were depressed, but some went home and vegetated while others did whatever it took to reclaim their lives. I've long wondered about the difference between those who survive adversity, and even thrive, and those who don't.
I know one thing. It's not about strength or weakness. Frankly, I hate that measure as it implies that those who do well have a better character than those who don't. Not true.
Here's what is true. Resilience is partly about luck. In my case, I had a career to return to, a family and the kind of health insurance that afforded me the luxury of not worrying about paying for my equipment. Professor Ann Masten at the University of Minnesota found that children's success in several developmental tasks was related to resources they had in childhood — intelligence, parenting quality and socioeconomic status.
Now we know that overinvolved parenting contributes to making children less resilient. But that is only a small part of the story of resilience.
There is a far more important factor. Almost all studies of resilience have addressed the value of good relationships with caring adults either in the family or outside of it. This could happen through teachers, mentoring programs, religious groups or distant relatives but it is these relationships that are critical in fostering resilience.
Eighteen-year-old Dana Young was just 13 when her family was evicted from their apartment because her mother had been using drugs and couldn't pay the rent. Placed in a shelter in their old neighborhood, Dana felt humiliated after being teased relentlessly by her old friends.
She and her older brother Devlin helped one other endure these difficult times. Eventually her family became involved with Episcopal charities where Dana found her voice through poetry and music.
With the help of people who believed in her and her faith, she now plans to attend Shippensburg University next year and hopes to become a writer.
Having support in your life fosters resilience regardless of how old you are.
Linda Noble Topf was in her 30s and at the height of her career in 1981 when she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. She thought her life as a community leader and artist was over.
Although she had support at first, she ignored it and got lost in dark ideas about her future, turning to drugs and alcohol. Like most who have endured great suffering, she felt alone, unloved, unlovable and a burden to her family.
One night her husband Michael, exasperated, issued an ultimatum: "Choose your life or I am leaving." And, like so many others when given the choice, she chose life. And when she did, she found herself surrounded by people who cared about her.
Today, despite the progression of her illness, she runs workshops, coaches, consults with the MS Society and publishes many articles about living with adversity.
Andrea Collins Smith has been the subject of both this column and my radio show. In her 30s when she was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, she never lost her joy for life. She attributed her happiness to the love of her children and friends and her faith that she would be ok whether or not she survived this illness.
I spoke to her in April 2008 when friends took her and her children to the beach in Ocean City. She said that was the best day of her life.
Two months later, she died. Her ability to love until her last days was aided by people who cared for her and allowed her to care for them.
For many reasons, more of us are living with fewer intimate friends. And, with the help of technology, the younger generation believes relationships can be done through text messaging.
We might function well that way, but in the face of adversity, we need the loving care of our fellow humans. Years ago in these pages, I wrote about a visit to the majestic Redwoods in California with a friend who was a nature buff. She told me that such large trees had very shallow root systems. I wondered how these massive structures found their stability without deep roots.
"Redwoods grow in clusters," she explained "and their roots interlock. That's how they get their strength."
Caregiving and compassion with Trish
On March 31, our Web chat featured Trish who was a caregiver for her severely disabled husband. She was quite eloquent and brutally honest when talking about all she has lost since his accident. She continues to post on the Christopher Reeve webpage http://communities.kintera.org/Reeve/forums/1080/ShowForum.aspx
With her permission, I am sharing a recent posting as it helps illustrate the good news and bad news associated with trauma.
On Friday I had to take our boys to the dentist. So I’m sitting in this pediatric dentist’s office reading a book called 90 Minutes in Heaven. In walks an elderly lady with her grown disabled daughter. The mother had to have been in her 70s. The daughter might have been 40. The daughter had obvious physical and mental disabilities. She was blind and was walking behind the mother, holding on to her waist, with her head leaned up against her mother’s back. The mom signed her in, sat her down, took off her jacket, brushed her hair, and quieted her a couple of times when she started speaking rather loudly. I couldn’t help but wonder what this mom’s life had been like. I wondered how many of her wants/desires/dreams were given up long ago. I wondered if she ever found respite care. I know she must love her daughter very much, but I just wondered if over the many years she had felt frustrated, tired, and all the things I feel.
He daughter was finally taken back and the mom picked up a magazine. I really wanted to go over there and sit next to her and talk to her but didn’t. Just like me, maybe waiting in the dentist’s office with a magazine was her little bit of peace for the day. It also struck me that had I walked in 15 minutes after I did, I would have thought this lady was the grandmother to some rowdy kid. Her situation was invisible. I hope things like this make me more compassionate to others. It is impossible to just look at someone and read their heart and soul.
Trish
For part two of our chat on relationships between parents and adult children Dan will be joined by Jane Isay, author of“Walking on Eggshells: Navigating the delicate relationship between adult children and parents”.
Isay traveled the country interviewing adult children and their parents. She found that adult children want the same things younger children do; they want their strengths acknowledged, they want to know that you are proud of them and that your love for them is unyielding. And there is two things our adult children don't want. They don't want our guilt and they don't want to hear our lectures anymore.
Dear Dr. Dan,
I just have to say I have struggled with my own relationship with our only daughter who is married, independent and happy. But after feeling invisible and no longer needed we began to really clash and I sensed a distance I never expected to have with her. After having a few days together this past summer it exploded with tears of frustration and sadness with me. I also felt a lack of respect and consideration while spending time together. I was missing the friendship we once had and wondered "what happened"? There was even a smugness and just disregard that I was even present. It hurt and pissed me off.We did finally sit down and I was able to share all of this with my daughter, things have changed for the better and I think because we really honestly made each other aware and expressed what we were feeling made the difference. She's married, and like it or not, our son-in-law has her attention,evolving mother
Dear evolving mother,
this stuff used to be so easy, didn't it? they wear the children and we were the parents. We've made the rules and they listened or not. And we reprimanded or punished or nagged, but whatever we did, we were still the parents. But there is a certain subtle point in these relationships where those two dimensional rules no longer work. Children become adults and we become more than parents, we become people. We get into difficulties when one or both parties clutch throws old roles. Parents continue the old-style of lecturing and children continue to, well, act as children.Complicating things are different styles of parenting. Most boomers were raised in the "children should be seen and not heard" family-style. We raise our children quite differently. Our relationships with our children were more intimate and involved. So don't we have a right to expect that going forward? Not so fast. Our adult children are adults. And have their own values, expectations and loyalties that may or may not conform to yours.When my grandson Sam was a infant, my daughter Debbie put him on my lap while she went to do something in the other room. He started to squirm and slid off my lap and onto the floor. He wasn't hurt, but he was pretty startled and screamed. This was the first time anything like this had happened, so to became racing into the room scooped him up and walked away leaving me alone feeling guilty and helpless. What she did was appropriate and understandable. But I didn't know if she was angry at me or even if she would ever let me hold him again. Of course, my thoughts are not rational, but it was then that I fully realized the lines of authority in our relationship had just shifted radically.I can almost picture you nodding your head as you read this story has this is exactly what has happened to you. In this case, your daughter was making a statement that she is an adult now and your feelings, although important, are not the only feelings she cares about. Of course that is hurtful to you. And behind that hurt, there is a sense of loss that many of us feel. But trust me, this new relationship can be wonderful if both generations release their grasp on the old one.
Jane Isay, author of“Walking on Eggshells: Navigating the delicate relationship between adult children and parents”, traveled the country interviewing adult children and their parents. She found that adult children want the same things younger children do; they want their strengths acknowledged, they want to know that you are proud of them and that your love for them is unyielding. And there is two things our adult children don't want. They don't want our guilt and they certainly don't want to hear our lectures anymore.
Q: Dan-
How do you let go of the guilt you feel about an adult child and the choices they are making? I am consumed by guilt, even though I know I should not be. I was a mother who was ALWAYS there. I always had time to help her with her homework, listen to her, and coaching her sporting teams. But now she is 23 years old and involved with someone who has gotten her involved with drugs in a way that is not only criminal, but could have deadly results.I can't sleep, I try and follow them, talk to my daughter and do everything else I can think of, but nothing works. And all I do is keep looking for what I did wrong. There has to be some way I can let go, but I just can't seem to do it. I know I should let them suffer the consequences, but I really don't want to see that happen.
Worried in, NJ Dear worried First let's talk about your guilt and then your daughters behavior. For the first hundred years of our existence, psychologists have done nothing but blame mothers for everybody's problems. We were wrong. Now we are learning that many of our children's problems are because of their parents genetics rather than their neglect. So your guilt might be partly because of this misguided notion that still lingers in our culture. But it may be because of what I call parents "delusions of influence." All of us parents like to think we have more influence with our children than we really do. And that brings me to the real pain behind your guilt. Often guilt is the ego's way of protecting us from the sheer helplessness we feel when someone we love is in danger. As bad as your guilt feels, what's underneath it may be even more painful. And if you can find a way to face your powerlessness and live with it, you might find the compassion for yourself that you need. Several years ago I worked with a woman whose son was gay and an intravenous substance abuser. She was beside herself with the fear and was doing everything she could to keep him alive. She paid his rent, arranged substance abuse treatment repeatedly, stayed in touch with his friends and begged him to change his behavior. And in our work together, she wondered if she had been a different kind of mother would all of this have happened, Over time she slowly released her grasp on her dreams for her son and cried bitter tears. Finally, she was able to be in a relationship with the son she had and not the son she wanted. Her fear and sadness never went away and may not, but it no longer dominated her life. Even when the stakes are not as high, the issues are the same for all of us. It's about releasing our grasp and being in a relationship with the children we have.That doesn't mean you should simply turn your back on your daughters behavior, but lecturing never works. When we are concerned about our children's behavior, talking to them is never helpful. Sometimes listening to them is the only chance we have to maintain contact in times of crisis. And, best you can, this act of listening should be nonjudgmental. Please listen with an open mind rather than just hearing the words while preparing your response. Listen to your child's story and imagine that it is you talking to a parent. Listening sounds simple, but it is extremely difficult as you may be hearing things that are upsetting. But just listening could be helpful to both of you. That is, if she is willing to talk. I would guess that you think the problem is her boyfriend and she thinks the problem is her mother! Like with any family conflict, you must find common ground. A wonderful book on this topic is "Difficult Conversations: Help to Discuss What Matters Most" by Douglas Stone et.al. If not, she needs to know that you love her no matter what happens and that you will do anything in your power to help her get better but you will not do anything to enable her to stay on this path.
Q: Our first child, Allison was born at 38 weeks and died within days. We have 3 children now, 9, 6 and 4 years old and have never discussed their sister Allison with them. I feel torn as to tell them about their sister or to shield them from such a sad experience. Even after 10 years our loss is still difficult to talk about without crying. Thank you for any thoughts you can offer.
Conshohocken, PA
dear Brigitte,
I am so sorry for your loss and how painful that ache in your heart must be.
First, bear in mind that your grief has probably already been felt by your children as they are quite skilled at sentencing the emotions of their parents. But this is not necessarily a problem as children are rarely upset by their parents’ sadness or even tears. What has the potential to harm children is when parents swallow their feelings and they come out sideways like over protectiveness toward creating a terribly busy life to avoid the sadness. So with that as the background.
Begin any discussion about death with children by asking questions about your child's understanding of what it means to them. Almost all young children have some experience with death even if it is only seeing a dead bird or hearing about a friend's grandparents. If you ask them if they have any questions of you, you will get a sense of how ready they might be. Now you can give them the information they are ready for.
Of course, what information you give them depends on their age and your own emotions and beliefs. I doubt that you would do this, but you don't want to overload children with your emotions. So it's okay to show sadness and even talk about it. But it's not okay to ask children to behave in a certain way so that you can feel better. That gives them too much power and too much burden.
Whenever you have this discussion, answer all of their questions honestly. And, in keeping with being honest, please don't pretend to have all the answers. Keep your answers brief and simple. And most of all, don't let your own anxiety interfere with your ability to listen to their questions and their emotions.
And of course, children understand death differently depending on their ages. Your three-year-old might see death as something that is temporary, but your nine-year-old probably understands that it is permanent and may even be beginning to realize that all living things die. But all children react to this knowledge very differently.One very good book on this topic for young children is: "explaining death to children" by Dr. Earl A. Grollman. I'm sorry for your loss and wish you great joy with your children.
