Monthly Archives: November 2011
The Evolutionary Benefits of Depression
(Guest post by Allison Gamble on behalf of psychologydegree.net
“Pain or suffering of any kind, if long continued, causes depression and lessens the power of action, yet it is well adapted to make a creature guard itself against any great or sudden evil.”
-Charles Darwin
For ages, our ancestors have known of the condition we call depression, though to them it was listed under a variety of other names: sadness and the blues, to name a pair. The question that they never asked, but scientists now seek to answer is: has there ever been any payoff from depression from an evolutionary perspective?
Depression is not a rare disorder by any means, and it is suggested that as many as 50 percent of Americans will experience the criteria for diagnosis with major depressive disorder at one point in life or another. It doesn’t take a psychology degree to know that’s a high percentage of people affected, particularly for a mental disorder. The majority of mental diseases are actually quite rare – how is it that depression slipped through the cracks?
For one, depression may actually have played a role in the process of natural selection regarding infants and young children, in the form of postpartum depression. It has been shown that parents will not invest sufficient care in every one of their offspring if the apparent costs outweigh the benefits of caring for certain offspring. Postpartum depression may be an evolutionary signal to a parent that risks involved in continued care of the unfit offspring outweigh the benefits, thus exacting a decidedly detrimental toll on the caregiver’s health and resources. It may also be an evolutionary signal for assistance from others for help caring for the child.
Socially, it may also have helped contain sexually transmitted diseases, as depression frequently causes disinterest in social interaction and sex. In addition, exposure to other diseases would have been lessened by a reduced exposure to events and elements outside the confines of the afflicted’s own home.
Plus, with a lack of energy and desire in even the most mundane things in life, our ancestors would have likely spent more time sleeping, which would have replenished the body in a time when stressful and excessive work conditions contributed to skyrocketing illness and mortality rates.
People with depression can focus on one issue and attack that issue as a whole, rather than breaking in down into bite-sized components, which is more taxing on the ventrolateral prefrontal cortex (VLPFC). Focusing on a number of problems requires a constant supply of neurons to keep up with the more numerous amount of tasks than can be accomplished by those who can digest the problem as a whole and concentrate solely upon finding an answer to that problem.
This is due to the presence of a receptor in the brain known as 5HT1A, which constantly fires new neurons for the VLPFC. Consequently, the subject can perform better in the functions regulated by the VLPFC, like focus and sustained concentration. Depression activates the VLPFC, while the 5HT1A sustains it vigorously to achieve its intended functions for longer periods of time.
This would have been a very valuable asset to our primal ancestors. Unlike us, they had fewer distractions to occupy their attention, though because of the volatility of their environment, every problem was potentially life-threatening. A chain of priority was absolutely necessary. A depressive mindset would allow our ancestors to take on the most pressing problem first, then adapt to the other problems facing them as necessary.
Another possible benefit is that by concentrating solely on the problem causing one’s depression, one has a greater chance for true introspection and self-enlightenment. Many of the greatest sages in the history of mankind probably suffered from one form of depression or another, yet by channeling their focus inwards, they found a deeper enlightenment and the ability to better interact with their environment and problems in a more meaningful and positive fashion.
Perhaps the greatest asset of depression is the most evolutionarily necessary: depression forces the hand of the species to reach out and try to eliminate the suffering of the one for the good of the race. And maybe, just maybe, this response is what separates us from the rest of the animals.
Allison Gamble has been a curious student of psychology since high school. She brings her understanding of the mind to work in the weird world of internet marketing with psychologydegree.net.Labels:depression,evolution,guest postpostedTuesday, September 06, 2011
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The inertia of depression
I once asked if I was lazy or depressed. I still can’t answer that question completely but I think I have a better understanding of why it’s so tough to answer.
A great deal of my depression manifests in self-doubt and often strong self-hate. Any activity I engage in – this blog, a good paying gig with a popular magazine, dinner with a friend, a big party – I approach with fear and self-doubt. My depression tells me that there’s no way I’ve got the stuff to pull of this activity without making a fool of myself.
I call it inertia because it builds on itself. Let’s talk about a party. It starts with in invitation to, let’s say, an event built around my industry with important people attending. At first I’m pleased to have been invited and excited about making new connections, seeing old friends and generally having a good time.
Then some tiny little kernel of doubt creeps into my mind. Either it’s about my ever expanding waistline and how people I haven’t seen in a long time will surely notice or it’s about an article I recently wrote which I sure somebody there will have read and found completely idiotic and can’t wait to tell me why. Or any other of a thousand little quibbling bits of self-doubt. The kernel grows and grows in my mind until it’s all I can think about.
This is how I regularly cancel lunches, find excuses not to write articles even though I might need to the money, and generally prove myself completely unreliable. And, in doing so, I create one more very real way to doubt myself. Now, when the next thing comes up, I’ve got one more piece of evidence to show myself how I’ll fail at that, too. It’s an inertial cycle of failure.
So, the easiest thing to do – no, the only thing to do that won’t further prove to me what I failure I am – is nothing. Outwardly, I appear lazy but inwardly I’m very actively doing nothing. Right now I can point to three things that I’m very specifically not doing.
Somehow, I thought that this argument would be clearer and more convincing. Having written it out, though, it still just seems like a very elaborate excuse for being lazy.
Maybe I should take a nap.Labels:depression,lazypostedWednesday, July 20, 2011
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Living with depression
This is something I really haven’t given much thought to. If you were to look back at this blog, which constitutes pretty much all my thinking about depression since I started it, you’d probably find that around 75% of it are posts featuring me whining about my self-diagnosed chronic depression, around 20% about one or another alternative cure I’ve considered, 5% about miscellaneous stuff, and the remaining 37% about how bad I am at math. But, actually coping with depression, living day after day with this dark companion, is something that I’ve avoided altogether both in my head and on this blog, at least as an explicit topic of conversation. I’ve been so concerned about how much it sucks and how great it will be when I get over it that I’ve missed the obvious. To quote Jack Nicholson’s line, “What if this is as good as it gets?” What then? How have I coped and survived until now and how will I continue to do so?
A few weeks ago, I got an email from a teenager in Australia. Let’s call him Tom. He is also depressed. It appears to be chronic and he’s getting help. He’s not hiding it and, under the Australian health-care system, he has access to real help. So good so far, right? He emailed me because he felt that I, being someone more than twice his age with roughly the same set of problems, could provide some insight that the best of his counselors haven’t so far. To paraphrase because I didn’t ask permission to quote him, he basically had two questions based on the single premise that, since he seems to be stuck with this depression thing for life: 1) Is it really worth it to go on? 2) If so, then how does he cope with it because all the meds and counseling in the world, though they can help, might never make it really go away.
I didn’t ask his permission because I didn’t know if I would respond at all. I’m still not sure, as I type this sentence, if I can come up with something worth saying. I’ve been pretty flummoxed since I got his email. Given that I’ve never really considered question 2, it gave me a lot to think about. How have I coped? Do I really know or do I plod through the day, fearful of the alternative? I’m still not entirely sure.
Let’s tackle question 1 first. We’re talking about suicide although he never said it. It’s something to talk about. Most professionals and patients seem to treat suicide as the no-no, hush-hush alternative that we must never speak of or even allow ourselves to consider. I don’t really have a problem with it, I really don’t. Who’s to say that a person in a severe depressive episode is in any less pain than something who’s body is failing from a terminal disease. Your conclusion about whether or not someone in the latter situation should be given the ability to kill herself may be different from mine but, in the post-Kevorkian world, I think that we can all agree it’s something that should be considered and discussed. Ah, you say, depressive episodes pass and the person has the chance at life beyond it. True, but a life punctuated by random, unpredictable depressive episodes may be too much for one to deal with. Ultimately, the moral positions on suicide are not unlike abortion – they are too wrapped up in personal ethics, religious beliefs and societal mores for there to be a clear, universal answer. I believe it should be a personal choice. I do not consider someone who commits suicide to be immoral or even wrong. (The exception in my mind is when one commits suicide when he has obligations, financial or otherwise, to his friends or family. It is condemnable to leave behind someone to clean up the mess that he was too cowardly to clean up himself.)
But, none of that really addresses Tom’s question, does it? Is it worth it to go on? Here’s the answer that seems to have evolved in my life. Yes, for the most part, it’s worth it to go on. I have more good days than bad and, most of the time, I’m hopeful about the future. I’m also curious about the future; I really want to know how things will turn out. It seems a little silly to base my mortality on seeing the plot through but it works for me, somehow. I’m also damn scared of killing myself. At my lowest moments, the thing that kept me from doing the deed can only be described as pure cowardice. So, is it worth it to go on? As I said before, so far, for me, it beats the alternative.
Okay, then, on to Tom’s second question. How to cope with it? This is the bit that really stymied me. I really don’t know how I’ve coped. As I turned this question and the answers I could think of over in my head I began to realize that I was writing a commencement address – seek your happiness, be true to yourself, love your family, blah, blah, blah. Like I said, Tom’s a teenager and he’s set to graduate soon enough. I’ll leave the platitudes for the C-list actor who happened to graduate from Tom’s high-school and gives that speech the year he graduates.
So, I tried harder to come up with real answers. The thing about depression is that it is our problem. It is fairly well defined and we kind of have a list of things it does to us. However, everyone has problems, right? I heard of a study a few years ago that says that babies and toddlers feel the same level of anxiety over their little dramas as we adults do. It seems silly to consider that a missing toy leads to the same amount of stress as trying to figure out how to pay the utilities on a limited budget but, apparently, it does. My point is that I think humans tend to look for and focus on points of tension in our lives. We depressives are lucky in a twisted way in that we know the source of our tension and we sort of know what to expect from it. Other people with a different set of less definable problems are trying to deal with them as best as they can. I’m not sure if I’m making my point very clearly here or if I even really had one to begin with. Let’s move on.
As I’ve stumbled through life, I seem to have settled to two key points that guide me.
The first is to know your depression. This means that it’s important to learn when depression is making you feel a certain way or real life circumstances are. Rage, anxiety and sadness are all occasional symptoms of depression. They are also symptoms of the human experience. Whenever you feel extreme emotions, take a beat and try to identify if it’s a result of real life or some meaningless, internal storm. I’ve lost friends and alienated family members over not being able to tell the difference. Innocent comments can be misinterpreted when observed through a depressive filter and turned into insults.
My second best bit of advice is never blame your depression. I’m talking about both externally and internally. Externally is easy. Just don’t do it. Never use your depression as an excuse for your actions. If you are an ass to your best friend because you misinterpreted an innocent comment while you were having a particularly low day, don’t say you did it because you are a depressive. Your depression might have influenced you but final decision to lash out was yours. Apologize, hope he accepts it and move on. This isn’t to say that you never talk about your depression – your friends might be a great source of support for you – just don’t rely on it as an excuse for your bad actions.
More importantly, never tell yourself that you acted a certain way or made a bad decision because of your depression. Once again, depression might have influenced you but, ultimately, you are responsible for what you do. Blaming depression becomes a crutch, relieving you of all responsibility and that can become a vicious cycle: I’m even more depressed now because my life sucks because I made bad decisions because I was depressed at the time so now my decisions are going to be even worse and my life will suck all the more. Depression may be a part of who you are until the day you die but never let it define who you are.
I tried to avoid platitudes but that last sentence came dangerously close, didn’t it.
So, Tom, there’s my answer. I’m sorry it took so long but you really threw me on that one. You gave me a lot to think about and I hope I gave you a little insight, too. Best of luck, brother!Labels:depression advice,postedSaturday, October 22, 2011
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