It Gets Better: Depression edition

Well, after hearing about it here and there, I finally checked out the It Gets Better Project over on the You Tube.  

Holy crap, these videos are incredibly moving, and I can't say enough about the awesomeness of Dan Savage. (I've said this before, but I firmly believe that anyone who is, was, or plans to be sexually active should be listening to the Savage Lovecast.) (And, no, I haven't told my teens about it because that would be the best way to ensure they never go near it.)  So, anyway, go click over there and scroll down and see all the videos that people from all over the world have posted to tell GLBTQ youth that it gets better, and see if you can stay dry-eyed.  I found the whole thing really powerful.  And yeah, I only watched the celebrity videos, but still.  (Tim Gunn's video is just as awesome as you would expect from America's most visible master teacher.)

So, yeah, this is an awesome, wonderful, sincere and not at all cheesy thing, and I totally support it.

And yet, possibly because I'm old enough to remember this, this, and this, or possibly just because I'm a dick, I do have a quibble.

I just want people to remember that most suicides come about not as a result of any specific incident,or as a result of bullying but as a result of depression.

Clinical depression is a potentially fatal illness that has affected many, many people I love. I have been lucky enough to get a very mild case (mine comes with a side order of anxiety! Nice!), and I respond very well to the cheapest medication and have been spared side effects.  

I resisted getting medication for my depression for a long time. Even though I knew better, I thought that my depression was something I should be able to defeat by sheer force of will.  (This is kind of the battle metaphor for illness that plagues the way we think about so many illnesses.)  I also romanticized my depression somewhat, feeling like it kind of made me who I am.  

Well, it turns out I am still the same person after getting treatment--I just feel better.  I still get sad and angry and (ask my family) grumpy, but I no longer spend entire days worrying about stupid crap that is never going to happen. 

If I think about it, what I actually have is anxiety with a side of depression, but some people have depression as a main dish and much more seriously than me.  I know how lucky I am.  

I also know that when people are in the throes of a serious depressive episode, they need more than encouraging words--they need help.  So I guess I would just say to the depressed and anxious among you that you don't have to feel horrible all the time.  Life doesn't have to be painful all the time.  And please, please, seek some help. If you broke your leg, you'd go see a doctor.  You wouldn't think you should just buck up and get over it. Try to look at this illness the same way and go see a doctor and get the help you need.