At
the recent six-month anniversary of September 11,
numerous articles and surveys appeared that indicated two
things: We aren't over this, and New Yorkers are reeling
from a "wave of depression."
It is true that people
with chronic issues that began before September 11 have
seen their symptoms increase. It is true that many who
had previously moved beyond difficulties are caught back
in them. It is true that still others are facing
uncertainties and difficulties never encountered before.
Some individuals are suicidal, some face flashbacks, some
are back into addictions, others are leaving marriages.
Instead of the number of people seeking help decreasing
over time, there has been an increase. I agree that
people clearly aren't "getting over it."
But as I read these
articles and feel gratified that the usual tendency to
gloss over problems once the magical "six-month" mark has
passed is being challenged, I am concerned about using
the word "depression" to describe what's going on. By its
definition, "depression" means a plunge from wellness to
illness, from stability to fragility.
I have been a mental
health professional for over thirty-five years, and
"depression" and how it differs from normal reactions to
trauma, stress, and change has been a focus of my work.
Thus I offer a word of caution:
Most of what is happening
isn't depression or even an illness. Most of what is
happening is a healthy response to a shared defining
moment. This could be a defining moment that creates
possibilities never dreamed of before. It could also,
unfortunately, as defining moments also do, end old
possibilities and dreams.
And so it is with those
most directly affected by the terrorist attacks of
September 11. Some have and will profit from various
approaches to trauma debriefing, therapy, medications,
and respite. Others will commit suicide. Still others
will become abusive or will lose their capacity or desire
to remain a firefighter, police officer, market analyst,
street vendor, or therapist. Life, in whatever form it
now takes, is transformed from the old ways, sometimes
for the better, sometimes not.
None of them can be
expected to forget, to dismiss this experience as a
forgettable rather than a defining moment. What they're
feeling should not be called "depression," for it is not
a sign of weakness or psychopathology that they don't get
back to life as usual.
The meaning of life comes
from embracing such times, from grieving what was lost as
a result, and from remembering what is most significant
about those losses in order to create new possibilities.
When this happens,
priorities will shift and wonderful things can happen. I
have seen times of the most devastating loss become the
motivation to grow and transform. But at the same time,
if the truth be told, additional losses can
result.
This doesn't mean that
others must stand by and watch helplessly if they see
loved ones deteriorating before their eyes. It is
important to know the differences between depression,
discouragement, and grief. Depression can result from
trauma and loss. By six months, depressed people are
different from those who are grieving or discouraged in
the following ways:
Depressed people
feel disconnected from everyone and everything.
Nobody cares--enough.
Life has no pleasure in it.
Life has no meaning in it.
Nothing helps.
Life is over.
Nothing ever changes.
If these statements
characterize how you or a loved one feels, professional
help is needed.
People who are grieving
or discouraged are more likely to experience the
following thoughts:
"Walk in my
shoes" before judging me.
There is at least one person I feel safe with.
Pleasure may be harder to find.
I don't know what meaning my life has now.
Being in a safe place or with nurturing people helps
enormously.
I don't know how to forgive.
Everything is changing.
If these statements seem
to characterize the way you or a loved one feels, support
and validation may be what are needed. Such validation
can sometimes come from understanding counselors and
alternative health practitioners, but more often will
come from family, friends, religious communities, and
support groups.
Try out how it feels to
say, "I am depressed." Then try, "I am grieving" or "I
feel discouraged." To a depressed person, each statement
feels the same. To those dealing with significant life
changes, there is a difference that represents a healthy,
healing process that will take the time it needs to
transform the way we were.
We can help others by
validating for them that things are as bad as they
seem--at least for now. We can witness their process of
transformation and remind them that aspects of themselves
they once believed permanently lost can still exist. We
can believe in their capacity to rise to the occasion. We
can put aside our judgmental natures and make it safe for
people to admit to moments of panic and cowardly and
destructive actions, to help them find ways for
forgiveness and restoration. We can celebrate with them
when they fight back from serious injuries and massive
burns to restoration of health.
Indeed, we can hold their
hope while they explore the darkest spaces of their
existence, for validation can help people measure their
life story by whatever moment defines "before" and
"since."
John Schneider, PhD is
a retired professor of Psychiatry from Michigan State
University living on Old Mission Peninsula. His book, The
Overdiagnosis of Depression: Recognizing Grief and Its
Transformative Potential explores this topic in greater
depth. He is a clinical psychologist in private practice
who, along with Mary Raymer, MSW helped to start the
Traverse City Healing Community Response Team, a group of
volunteer professionals responding locally and nationally
in the aftermath of September 11th.