Somehow the notion of clinical depression has entered into our vocabulary with a set of clashing symbols and a lot of misunderstanding. The DSM 5 book of psychological explanations has just changed a number of issues related to depression. There are now a number of differing levels of depression. Their dictionary explanations are grist for the psychologist and not for the lay person.
I have had a number of bouts of depression that have caused me some problems. After a heart surgery, after a knee surgery and some intermittent sessions that seem to last a day or two. When I come out of these times, I wonder what the heck made me feel the way I do. I do not take any psychotropic drugs. I have seen a few psychologists who have cleared me as an almost normal person. The post-surgery events appear to be a normal function of the operations. They leave you rather quickly and then you go about your business.
The intermittent times seem to come out of nowhere. The other day, some positive information about my son set me off. The rational part of my brain was questioning my downturn, while the depressive side of my brain just went off the rails. This happens every few months or so and recedes as secretly as it arrives.
One explanation is that with age, comes a breakdown in some barriers in the brain. I have not been deductive enough to come up with a theory. The definitions don’t seem to do my situation any justice. Events don’t seem to stimulate the onset. It is a queer feeling to be sitting there or doing exercise and suddenly break out in tears.
There are certainly enough negative things in the world to cause me to feel horrible. I think of the children that are getting short changed in rural South Carolina and haven’t got the resources to move ahead in life. Those should stimulate my tears, but they don’t. The only thing that does is to cause me to work harder on their behalf.
The simple explanation for this idiopathic happening is to learn to live with it and try and get some medical explanation. It may well be that most folks my age have the same strange malady. I have not spoken to any of the men my age. Maybe I should ask a few of them if this is a familiar happening in their lives.
Right now, I am writing this blog at the same time that the 3rd Presidential Debate is going on. Funny, that does not make me upset. My strange depression is a mystery. As Sherlock would say, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”