Growing up in the 50s and 60s, the adults around me rarely discussed depression or mental illness. The few times I voiced a concern about my sadness to an adult, I was invariably told, "Oh, Michael, you just need to snap out of it," or some equally dismissive response. My parents, who were, in hindsight, extremely depressed alcoholics, refused to acknowledge my struggle as being anything other than childhood and later teenage angst.
I grew up too afraid and ashamed to talk about how hurt and hopeless I felt. Drugs became a self-destructive survival mechanism. It didn't help that I envisioned the mentally ill as being like characters in movies such as One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Who would want to join that club?
Starting at 19 years old, chanting became my go-to treatment for my emotional ailments. At some unconscious level, I knew I was depressed. So, MBO and I chanted our hearts out to prevent me from falling into an emotional abyss and to maintain a higher state of life. This worked for many years. I realize now it would have been even better if teenage or young adult me could have got professional therapy and medicine. But who knew?
In 1998, a few years after MBO became afflicted with multiple sclerosis (MS) and had begun to adapt, with a very positive attitude and daily Buddhist practice, to her new physical reality of increased fatigue and numbness, I could no longer control my emotions and was diagnosed by a psychiatrist as being clinically depressed. Even though this was painful to hear, I wasn't really surprised. I had always struggled with depression and anxiety as well as dangerous moments of total despair. I had a real fear of ending up in a mental institution although it was a relief to be told that I didn't have an imaginary illness I could just "snap out of."
So, I added psychotherapy and antidepressants to my regular chanting routine. 26 years later, I’ve made significant progress in learning how to deal with my clinical depression. There is still more work for me to do. But a lifetime of inner darkness is finally starting to leave the building!
It saddens me that so many young people I listen to or hear about are still reluctant to talk with their parents, teachers or friends about their serious inner turmoil. Making it difficult, is that these teenagers can appear to be relatively happy when around others. It was that way for me. I assumed the external role of being the "funny" one. In this way, both clinical and even situational depression can be quite insidious.
Almost all young people struggle with getting good grades, peer pressure, fear of making a mistake, and balancing school and extracurricular activities. Not having someone to talk to only exacerbates their stress. For some, this can manifest as serious depression and anxiety.
There are numerous other reasons why parents might miss or dismiss their child's emotional struggles. These include their teenager's resistance to talk with them; being too consumed with the drama and activities in their own lives to regularly communicate with their teen; embarrassed or unwilling to acknowledge having a teenager with emotional problems; uncomfortable with the terms depression and anxiety for what they see as just "typical teenage angst;" unwilling or unable to admit they might be contributing to the teenager's problems; or believing therapy and antidepressants are a "cop -out" and only for the very seriously disturbed.
Ironically, these same adults would never deny the existence of a young person's diabetes or suggest they not take insulin. They need to understand that the depression and anxiety that are plaguing their teenager are just as legitimate and treatable as other medical ailments.
It takes regular communication and compassionate intervention from parents, teachers and friends to prevent a teenager's angst from turning into violence against his or herself or others. Young people are precious. I'm going to continue to chant for the wisdom to self-reflect, stay aware and work with others who are struggling so we don't lose any more!