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Not that anyone I know doesn't already read xkcd, but it's great to see I'm not the only one who thinks the universe is always amazing.
Mar. 25th, 2011
Blue sky blues
Mar. 25th, 2011 06:22 pmAs is the wont of Comment is Free, here's something I sorta agree with and sorta don't and sorta find almost as worthy of complaint as the thing being complained about.
And that's saying a lot, when the thing being complained about is Geoffrey Boycott.
(Think Howard Cosell, if you're American. And old enough.)
I hadn't realized Boycott had commented on Michael Yardy's early departure from the World Cup team due to depression but as soon as this CiF article alerted me to that, I could've predicted exactly what he'd say. I wouldn't have been wrong. Boycott is an easily-predictable series of responses to any given stimuli, at least to anyone who's listened to as much Test Match Special as I have; he is its monstrous carbuncle.
"He must have been reading my comments about his bowling – it must have upset him," Boycott told the BBC, adding: "Obviously it was too much for him at this level." (And I can just hear all this in the horrible rhythm of his horrible grating voice! Urgh. There's a whole article linked about his 'controversy'-sparking comments, but I am not going to link to that.)
But it is none of these comments the CiFer has latched on to, but a backtrack on Radio 4's Today: "Until you've had depression I don't think you're qualified to talk about it." The writer says
It can be argued that no one really knows what anyone else's experiences are like When You Get Right Down To It, I Mean (philosophers still argue about whether, though we agree the sky is blue, any two of us mean the same thing by "blue" as each other). But I do not think depression is a special snowflatke either. I think, like anyting else, a person's understanding of it can be richer and more nuanced if they have experiencd it themselves, but it's not always necessary for someone to share in something before they can grok it, and to say so smacks of a teenage or hipster tendency to proclaim that you are living life more profoundly than the people around you. Especially with a thing like depression, that kind of isolation would be the last thing you want.
Comparing depresion to a bad mood is really a mistake, I think. It is not the thing I think most people will have experienced that is nearest to depression. If I had to choose, I'd say it's more like having the flu. Proper flu, not a snifle, but laid-up-for-a-few-days-at-least flu. And it's like after you've had that for a few days and you're getting a little bit better. At first you're unable to think, breathe, move, stay awake, sleep, eat, feel hungry, do anything. You might be aware on some level that it sucks, but you don't feel able to care too much about that. You don't have a proper sense of time passing.
It's when you start to feel a bit better, when you think you've turned a corner, but your body is still very weak and your brain is still pretty far from normal, that I think is the closest experience to depression. You are better able to realize the state you're in, though you're still helpless to do much about it. Think of the way drinking juice, going for a wee, or watching even daytime TV seem like huge expeditions. Eventually you get better enough to get bored, to think about what you're missing at work and all the fun your friends are having in museums or pubs or swingers clubs or whatever your friends do for fun. You don't feel able to join in yet, though; you still feel submerged in toxins. You drift off to sleep, hoping you'll feel better tomorrow.
But what if you didn't feel better tomorrow, or the next day? What if you felt like this, at a mental and sometimes physical low ebb, for weeks. Months. Years. Usually the worst episodes don't last years without at least some relief, but trust me: it can feel like they do. You're not in a bad mood. It feels like you're in a bad life.
Just the other day I read a vivid, concise description of depression at the brilliant Neuroskeptic blog:
And it isn't ever a good idea to listen to Geoffrey Boycott.
And that's saying a lot, when the thing being complained about is Geoffrey Boycott.
(Think Howard Cosell, if you're American. And old enough.)
I hadn't realized Boycott had commented on Michael Yardy's early departure from the World Cup team due to depression but as soon as this CiF article alerted me to that, I could've predicted exactly what he'd say. I wouldn't have been wrong. Boycott is an easily-predictable series of responses to any given stimuli, at least to anyone who's listened to as much Test Match Special as I have; he is its monstrous carbuncle.
"He must have been reading my comments about his bowling – it must have upset him," Boycott told the BBC, adding: "Obviously it was too much for him at this level." (And I can just hear all this in the horrible rhythm of his horrible grating voice! Urgh. There's a whole article linked about his 'controversy'-sparking comments, but I am not going to link to that.)
But it is none of these comments the CiFer has latched on to, but a backtrack on Radio 4's Today: "Until you've had depression I don't think you're qualified to talk about it." The writer says
I couldn't properly understand depression until it happened to me – so why would anyone else?...In terms of genuine experience, the closest most people can get to "imagining" depression is when they are in an extremely bad mood – and it's hard to see how you couldn't put that aside for the sake of a burgeoning career in first-class sport."I think this is in some ways as wrong as Boycs thinking depression is being 'upset' or whatever.
It can be argued that no one really knows what anyone else's experiences are like When You Get Right Down To It, I Mean (philosophers still argue about whether, though we agree the sky is blue, any two of us mean the same thing by "blue" as each other). But I do not think depression is a special snowflatke either. I think, like anyting else, a person's understanding of it can be richer and more nuanced if they have experiencd it themselves, but it's not always necessary for someone to share in something before they can grok it, and to say so smacks of a teenage or hipster tendency to proclaim that you are living life more profoundly than the people around you. Especially with a thing like depression, that kind of isolation would be the last thing you want.
Comparing depresion to a bad mood is really a mistake, I think. It is not the thing I think most people will have experienced that is nearest to depression. If I had to choose, I'd say it's more like having the flu. Proper flu, not a snifle, but laid-up-for-a-few-days-at-least flu. And it's like after you've had that for a few days and you're getting a little bit better. At first you're unable to think, breathe, move, stay awake, sleep, eat, feel hungry, do anything. You might be aware on some level that it sucks, but you don't feel able to care too much about that. You don't have a proper sense of time passing.
It's when you start to feel a bit better, when you think you've turned a corner, but your body is still very weak and your brain is still pretty far from normal, that I think is the closest experience to depression. You are better able to realize the state you're in, though you're still helpless to do much about it. Think of the way drinking juice, going for a wee, or watching even daytime TV seem like huge expeditions. Eventually you get better enough to get bored, to think about what you're missing at work and all the fun your friends are having in museums or pubs or swingers clubs or whatever your friends do for fun. You don't feel able to join in yet, though; you still feel submerged in toxins. You drift off to sleep, hoping you'll feel better tomorrow.
But what if you didn't feel better tomorrow, or the next day? What if you felt like this, at a mental and sometimes physical low ebb, for weeks. Months. Years. Usually the worst episodes don't last years without at least some relief, but trust me: it can feel like they do. You're not in a bad mood. It feels like you're in a bad life.
Just the other day I read a vivid, concise description of depression at the brilliant Neuroskeptic blog:
Depression is not a thing; not even a black one. It is a lack, of motivation, energy, joy, imagination; you don't wake up and feel depressed, you wake up depressed and feel terrible, but the depression is hidden, only evident in retrospect, just as you don't tend to notice how quiet it is until a noise breaks the silence.I think people reading this, whether they have personal experience of depresson or not, can probaly call to mind works of art, situations, memories, well-turned phrases or other such things that reflect some facet of the complicate thing we mean when we say "depression." But whatever it is, it isn't a bad mood.
And it isn't ever a good idea to listen to Geoffrey Boycott.