Welcome to From Insults to Respect. On this blog, from time to time, we have been discussing depression. To help us better understand this deeply troubling experience, we have looked at the biographies of several individuals who, despite their mighty struggles with depression, still managed to earn the respect of millions. Today, we quickly review three of these biographies, that of the brilliant psychologist and philosopher William James, the remarkable musical performer Joni Mitchell, and the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy.
After this quick review, we’ll move on and take a close look at several instances of General U. S. Grant’s experience with depression. The useful understandings that come from considering these challenging experiences will be addressed in my conclusion section.
A Brief Look at William James’s Experience
William James
As we discussed in an earlier post (see here), William James, for several years, had an experience that he described as follows:
“…it was as if something hitherto solid within my breast gave way entirely, and I became a mass of quivering fear.”
James initially believed that there was some physical basis that led to his becoming “morbid-minded” and “diseased.” And then, in some of the books he was reading, he was introduced to the idea that there was no need to accept that he had a physical disease causing his depression. Instead, he began to learn about the attitude that many viewed as “healthy minded,” which involves averting one’s attention from evil, and living in the light of good–a kind of “look for the silver lining whenever skies are blue” perspective. He came to believe that this approach,
“…is splendid as long as it will work. It will work with many persons; it will work far more generally than most of us are ready to suppose; and within the sphere of its successful operation there is nothing to be said against it as a religious solution.”
However, for him, and for many others as well,
“…there is no doubt that healthy-mindedness is inadequate as a philosophical doctrine, because the evil facts which it refuses positively to account for are a genuine portion of reality; and may after all be the best key to life’s significance, and possibly the only openers of our eyes to the deepest levels of truth.”
Noting that many of the most creative people of his day experienced depression, Professor James finally fully gave up the belief that he had a pathological condition. Instead, he adopted the view that his deep melancholy experiences were a natural part of a positive creative process, and this not only lifted his spirits, it also was “health to his bones.”
A Brief Look At Joni Mitchell’s Experience
In addition to William James’s experiences with depression, in an earlier post (see here) we also looked at musical artist Joni Mitchell’s similar experiences. To deal with it, Joni tells us that, she bought every psychology book she could lay her hands on. She ended up throwing them all against the wall. And then she was introduced to Nietzsche, and learned from him that to live is to suffer, to survive is to find meaning in the suffering.
As she poetically expressed it in her song, “Hejira,”
There’s comfort in melancholy When there’s no need to explain It’s just as natural as the weather In the moody sky today
With this realization, she decided to spend some extensive alone time in nature along the beautiful coast of British Columbia. It was there that she discovered that,
“Depression can be the sand that makes the pearl…. Most of my best work came out of it. If you get rid of the demons and the disturbing things, then the angels fly off, too. There is the possibility, in the mire, of an epiphany.”
A Brief Look At Leo Tolstoy’s Experience
Finally, in an earlier post (see here) we looked at the great writer, Leo Tolstoy. In his painfully personal book, My Confession, Leo Tolstoy tells us about his two-year period of despair. At about the age of 50, his life had become “flat, more than flat: dead.” Suicidal thoughts were all too frequent.
Tolstoy went on to explain how his melancholy stimulated a gnawing questioning that eventually led to one insight after another.
In reviewing the experiences of William James, Joni Mitchell, and Leo Tolstoy, we discovered that each came to conceptualize their experiences, not as a pathological state needing some type of psychiatric drug, but, instead, as something of value, as painful as it was to go through. Once they came to this realization, they found that their lives dramatically took a turn for the better.
Interestingly, William, Joni, and Leo’s experiences with depression seem to them, at least at first, to come out of the blue. To them, there was no obvious reason why they were feeling so down and out. In contrast, U. S. Grant’s depressions came out of distinct deeply disturbing events.
Grant’s Experiences With Depression
In some ways, General Grant was less inclined to become depressed than many of us. For example, one of the most common way that we begin to hurtfully treat ourselves is when we perceive someone is treating us disrespectfully. Well, according to Ron Chernow’s best selling biography of Grant, the great general was relatively immune to this. There we learn about John Rawlins, who acted as General Grant’s Chief of Staff during the Civil War:
Rawlins “was always getting excited about something that had been done to Grant,” recalled Lieutenant Frank Parker. When someone showed disrespect for Grant, “he would prance around and say, General, I would not stand such things’ to which Grant would say, ‘Oh, Rawlins! what’s the use in getting excited over little things like that; it doesn’t hurt me and it may make the other fellow feel a little good.’”
Although he could withstand criticism of his actions better than many of us, nevertheless, Chernow’s biography of Grant reveals a man who was prone to depression. Those who are interested in a description of many of the bouts that the general experienced can go to the book’s index, and under the heading “Grant, Ulysses S.” they will find a section titled “depression.” Chernow identifies ten incidences. Here, I will confine myself to describe just three of these, the first of which occurred shortly after he turned forty-two.
While Grant was gunning for Richmond, at one point, General Robert E. Lee mounted a furious attack. As Chernow described the event,
Robert. E. Lee
Exploding shells ignited dry brush and pine needles, heating the forest into a raging inferno…. Wounded men were roasted alive in the forest floor, their agonized cries audible everywhere…. Characteristically the tightly buttoned Grant allowed himself release only once the crisis passed. He carried the full weight of the Union cause on his shoulders, an impossible burden for any man. So, perhaps not surprisingly, he submitted to an overflow of feeling. “When all proper measures had been taken,” Rawlins related, “Grant went into his tent, threw himself face down on his cot, and gave way to the greatest emotion.” The man of extreme self-control surrendered to his feelings. Rawlins asserted he “had never before seen him so deeply moved” and that “nothing can be more certain than he was stirred to the depths of his soul.” Charles F. Adams Jr. confirmed that he “never saw a man so agitated in my life.”
A month later, the northern public was demanding ever more bold action. Grant, at Cold Harbor, responded with a risky attack against Lee’s army that inhabited swampy terrain that played to Lee’s strong suit. A labyrinth of trenches defied any forward movement by Grant’s forces. By the day’s end it became apparent that the Union had lost four or five men to every Confederate. Grant, in his Memoirs, expressed special remorse for what had happened: “I have always regretted that the last assault at Cold Harbor was ever made.”
Those who saw Grant immediately after the Cold Harbor battle sensed a deep sadness. As Chernow tells it,
Wrenshall Smith encountered him returning from the battle and depicted him as “much depressed. He dismounted and took a seat on the stone. What is the situation, I asked? Bad–very bad, he replied.” Samuel Beckwith noticed that after Cold Harbor Grant’s face developed “a careworn expression that indicated sleepless nights and fearsome days.” When he delivered a message to the general’s tent, he found him sunk in thought. After absorbing the telegram, Grant sighed, “Beckwith,” he said, “the hardest part of this General business is the responsibility for the loss of one’s men. I can see no other way out of it, however; we’ve got to keep at them. But it is hard, very hard, to see all these brave fellows killed and wounded. It means aching hearts back home.”
A couple of weeks later, the death of thirty-five-year-old General James B. McPherson was a terrible shock. McPherson was felled by a bullet while surveying Confederate defenses. He and Grant were particularly close. Chernow describes how Grant took the news:
It fell to Captain Samuel Beckwith, the chief cipher operator, to deliver the heartbreaking news to Grant in his tent. He handed the dispatch to Grant, who “read it silently. He was hard hit, I could readily see that. His mouth twitched and his eyes closed as if he was shutting out the baleful words. Then tears came and one followed the other down his bronze cheeks as he sat there without a word of comment.”
Throughout this period, Grant continued to run the Union Army with the enthusiastic support of his boss, President Abraham Lincoln. That support, along with the support of General Grant’s Chief of Staff John Rawlins, who, among his other duties, acted as a personal counselor, providing the general with unconditional positive regard when he needed it most. The importance of such support to get one through the hardest of times, will be discussed shortly in the next section.
My Conclusions
Dr. Jeffrey Rubin
The above three examples of Grant’s heart wrenching reactions to some traumatic experiences belies his image as stolid and unemotional. Importantly, in each case, he recovered without the need to pathologize his experience or to be saddled with antidepressants, with all of the side effects that go along with such a tangled path.
If Grant did go to a modern day psychiatrist’s office, what would be the likely outcome? Most likely he would meet up with a sales pitch that argues that his depression is a real disease and the risk of untreated depression is greater than the risk of any adverse effect of antidepressants. As someone who has participated in a number of debates on the use of psychiatric drugs, I have heard physician after physician make this claim about the risk of untreated depression. Whenever I asked these doctors what risks they were referring to, the answer most often has been an increased risk of suicide.
The doctors’ statements about this imply that if treated with “antidepressants” this can decrease the risk of suicide enough so that the depressed patient, by taking the drug, is better off than facing the risk of any adverse effects of the drug. But the doctors don’t know what the long term effects of taking the drugs are. What’s more, the scientific evidence currently available indicates that these drugs do not reduce the risk of suicide, and may actually increase it by as much as 8 percent (see HERE for the most recent review of the research).
In today’s post, we have looked at an alternative to the pathologizing medical model of depression. This alternative is uplifting, less stigmatizing, and conducive to a recovery point of view. It is a view that posits that depression has the potential to open our eyes to the fullness of truth. The suffering that goes along with the experience is a natural part of life, a view held by Nietzsche, as well as Buddhists and many other wisdom traditions. Additionally, it is an enormous source for creativity, and as we go through it, it can lead to one insight after another.
The experience of General Grant teaches us something that adds to the William James, Joni Mitchell, and Leo Tolstoy point of view; that is, even a person viewed as one of our most successful generals can experience anguish, sadness, and tears. This is an important lesson for so many of us who were brought up being taught to feel embarrassed and guilty when experiencing deeply sad emotions. In fact, for those who were brought up this way, they often believe that it is proper to lose respect for people who experience such emotions. They often end up having, each time they, personally, experience depression, a double depression. That is, not only do they at times begin to become depressed because of the reasons that would normally lead to feelings of melancholy, but they are additionally depressed about feeling that there is something terribly wrong with them, that they have bad genes and a stigmatizing illness requiring medication with all kinds of negative side-effects.
Giving up this tendency to feel a double depression for those who learned it throughout their childhood and well into their adult life often requires a relationship with someone providing quality social ties and social support. Substantial evidence (see here for a research literature review) has accumulated over the past few decades showing that social ties and social support are positively and causally related to mental health, physical health, and longevity. Evidence also documents that social support buffers the harmful physical and mental health impacts of stress exposure.
Although it is least expensive to receive this kind of support from warm, close friends and family members, sometimes those whom we are most close to hold the very same pathologizing beliefs that is holding one back from real recovery. At such times, finding a professional personal counselor who does not hold to the pathologizing point of view can be enormously helpful if the financial situation can be reasonably worked out. Discussions with the professional who typically responds in a very supportive manner, models for the person receiving counseling the type of skills that is helpful when we look within as we experience melancholy. Instead of berating ourselves for acting pathological, we come to learn to be kind to ourselves and to nurse hope that something positive will come from what we are going through.
Some non-pathologizing counselors will also encourage you to learn to meditate and utilize other mindfulness techniques. Here you practice observing your physical sensations when you are dealing with the disrespectful perceptions. In time, the disrespectful words that you tend to direct at yourself come to lose their disturbing nature. For a period of time these words still come, but you end up smiling at them as you realize they are not matching reality. In time, they may completely fade away as you embrace the physical sensations that come with melancholy.
This has been described as decentering. In essence, to decenter is to take a figurative step back from our beliefs and thoughts. That is, when we find ourselves believing, “I can’t do anything right,” we learn that we had a thought, “I can’t do anything right.” We come to learn, moreover, that we do not need to believe all our thoughts that were learned over many years from people who treated you in less than respectful ways.
An important component of mindfulness practice is to not resist our thoughts. Otherwise, marked frustration may ensue. We notice them, accept that they have come, observe them, and peacefully observe the physical sensations that come with them. Throughout, we embraced the whole experience.
Now, I understand that many people will find it hard to find in their community the type of counseling services I am describing. This may be because many professional counselors have adopted the same pathologizing approaches as psychiatrists, although they do believe counseling services, when combined with drug treatment, can be beneficial. For those who would like to work with a non-pathologizing personal counselor but find it difficult to find one within a convenient distance from home, I highly recommend two who can work with you individually via Skype–my son, Jack Star Rubin, and his lovely wife, Emily Whyte Rubin (see here to learn more about the counseling approach of these two personal counselors and their contact information).
For many struggling with depression, personal counseling can be too expensive. It is for this reason that I have been writing this blog. It provides a free, accessible way to learn helpful skills to deal with distressing experiences at your own pace. By going to the first post of this blog and then systematically going through each of the other posts over an extended period of time, a more supportive style of dealing with these types of problems are described, along with simple exercises that are required to really learn the skills well enough so you can actually carry them out in real life situations.
Well, those are some thoughts for this week. Until next time, may you be kind to yourself even when dealing with your most troubling experiences.
On one fine spring day, I was sitting on a Central Park bench and two women were sitting one bench just to my right reading their newspapers. Suddenly, one of them cried out, “Sophie, can you believe this! The story I’m reading here, oh my God! This young boy, seventeen years old mind you, the same age as my Jonathan, he’s struggling with ideas about suicide. Seventeen years old, his whole life before him and he wants to kill himself. What would lead a boy to this?”
“Such a young boy, Bessie?”
“Yes. My God.”
“He must have some type of mental illness.”
“Oh, you’re right, Sophie. I just glanced at the next paragraph, and a psychiatrist explains that the boy has a mental illness called major depressive disorder.”
With that explanation, the two women nodded to one another, and continued on to another story, seemingly satisfied that they now knew why the boy was dealing with this issue.
This notion that when a psychiatrist says someone has a mental illness, or some type of mental illness, that this offers a valid explanation for why the person is struggling with personal difficulties is, as far as I’m concerned, a bunch of nonsense. Just before the incident in the park, I had seen a performance of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, which tells the story of a boy about the same age as the one in the story Bessie was reading and is also struggling with feelings of committing suicide. As Shakespeare’s story unfolds, the audience is presented with a character that has motivations, conflicts, frustrations, disturbing situations and emotions. In the end, I left with some insights into why a character such as Hamlet might struggle with feelings of suicide.
In my opinion, even a play, which lasts but two or three hours, can only provide in its narrative a simplified account of what real life stories are all about. And yet, in today’s world, for many people a very different type of play is sufficient for providing the reason why someone is dealing with a challenging concern. This new type of play begins with the curtain rising. A character says to the audience he is struggling with feelings of suicide. A psychiatrist then proclaims the character has the mental disorder known as major depressive disorder, and then the curtain comes down. That’s the whole play. And people walk away fully satisfied that an adequate explanation has been provided.
When psychiatrists start calling people names, they get them from a book called The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). They claim that they are not just calling people names, but, instead, they are making a diagnosis. Diagnosis, as it is defined in Wikipedia, “is the identification of the nature and cause of anything” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagnosis).
It would be reasonable to assume, therefore, that the DSM would assist in identifying the nature and causes of the types of personal concerns that come to be called mental disorder. But the DSM uses a descriptive approach that attempts to be neutral with respect to theories of the nature and cause of the various “disorders” that it describes. Therefore, referring to the DSM as a “diagnostic” manual is contrary to reason.
My Personal Understanding of the Nature of Diagnosis
When I was fifteen years old, I was tackled hard in a football game. After the pile of tacklers got off of me, I found that when I tried to put any weight on my left leg I felt excruciating pain. Shortly after this unwelcome discovery, I arrived at the Coney Island Hospital. A doctor asked a few questions and decided to take an x-ray of my left leg. Minutes later, he showed me the x-ray, and pointed to where a bone in my leg was broken. His “diagnosis” was that my left leg had a fractured fibula.
Now, what if the doctor did not take an x-ray, but instead just said to me after he asked me a few questions, “Your problem is that you have ‘Major Inability to Stand Disorder.’” Making such a statement, as far as I am concerned, is quite different from what the doctor did when he took an x-ray, looked it over, and declared that my left leg had a fractured fibula. To refer to both types of statements as examples of the same thing—that is, a diagnosis—makes it more difficult to see this difference.
Consider, if you will, another situation. A few years ago I had trouble starting my Ford Pinto. I brought the car in and the mechanic provided me a theory that perhaps I needed a new starter. This, it seemed to me, was his initial theoretical diagnosis. He then inspected the starter and found that it was in fine shape. Thus, his original theory of what was wrong proved incorrect. He then theorized that my spark plugs were dirty. He took a look and found that they were indeed dirty. He cleaned them up, put them back in their proper place, and the car started right up. In the end, as far as I was concerned, he “diagnosed” what was wrong with my car as having dirty spark plugs. If the mechanic had instead just asked me a few questions, and then told me that the problem with my car was that it had “Major Non-starting Disorder,” then this to me is something very different than “diagnosing” my car’s problem.
The DSM, by claiming it is a manual for making diagnoses, masks the difference between the following two statements:
1. “You have a fractured fibula.”
2. “You have ‘Major Inability to Stand Disorder.’”
Similarly, the DSM, by claiming it is a manual for making diagnoses, masks the difference between making the following two statements:
1. “My theory for why your car is not starting is it has dirty spark plugs.”
2. “Your car is not starting because it has ‘Major Non-starting Disorder.’”
In both of these examples, the number “1” statements offer some theory for understanding the cause for what we believe has gone wrong. The number “2” statements just restate the expressed concern about something we believe has gone wrong in some technical terminology. The DSM actually is just a classification system for expressed mental health concerns, and it would be far more accurate if it honestly said so.
Classification
A major reason why scientists classify is to speed up the process of obtaining useful information. The classification, when useful, is a labor-saving contrivance. Let’s look at an example that makes this vividly clear.
Biology Example
Suppose a biologist named Steve comes upon a whale for the first time. He has never seen such a creature before. He wants to learn more about it. He observes that it is a vertebrate, gives live birth to its offspring, and uses mammary glands to feed its offspring. Once this is observed, Steve can see if other biologists have collected any information on this creature by looking in a book that uses a certain classification system. By looking in the book under mammals, which has a pretty clear definition, he can save an enormous amount of time because he will not have to bother looking at all the insects, birds, and reptiles. This saves him from needlessly examining millions of specific listings—a clear time saver.
I hypothesize that there would be no significant difference between the so-called diagnosis system called the DSM and a classification system that simply classifies expressed personal concerns in retrieving valued scientific information. In an article that I published in The Journal of Humanistic Psychology, I fully explain this concern alternative (see HERE).
Briefly, with the concern approach individuals would not be classified, only their expressed concern. If I want to find out about any scientific studies that looked at different ways that addressed concerns about depression, in Google Scholar I can now simply put in the search engine— “depression, treatments.” Without adding the words “major” and “disorder” in the search engine, I can currently get numerous relevant hits. If the new concern classification system was adopted, soon the term “addressing concerns” would be receiving the same number of relevant hits that I now get by using the search term “treatment.” Thus, this scientific requirement would be amply fulfilled without using the search terms of “major depressive disorder” and “treatment.”
The DSM and the concern classification system would both serve a valuable scientific function—the retrieving of relevant scientific information in a time- saving manner. The accepted term for such a system in science is “classification,” not “diagnosis.” If “diagnosis” was clearly recognized as a perfect synonym for “classification” then it wouldn’t matter which term was used. But “diagnosis” indicates that something more than classification is being provided in the DSM, whereas the concern classification system would make no such claim. The concern system would not seek to present itself as something that it can’t back up as accurate. And it avoids the negative name calling of people that so many find offensive and stigmatizing.
Another Problem with Psychiatric Name Calling
Furthermore, when psychiatrists provide a so-called “diagnosis” of a mental disorder it indicates that there is something wrong with the person. This masks an alternative possibility. It is very possible that the experiences typically being diagnosed as mental disorders are more aptly construed as tools. That is, a hammer can be used to drive in nails in the construction of a life-preserving shelter or to bludgeon an innocent person to death. A car can be used to rush a child to an emergency room so that life-preserving treatment can be administered, or it can be used to tragically end a prom night. Similarly, there are numerous people who have had the experiences that are said to be diagnosed in the DSM as a mental disorder, who report that the experience ended up helping them to achieve enormous benefits; whereas, others became ambivalent, and others agree that they proved to be all bad. It may be very true that it is up to each one of us to find the wisdom to use these tools for good.
The percentage of people who report that the experiences now referred to in the DSM as mental disorders turned out to be good, bad or mixed is a question for science. Mental health practitioners when using the DSM participate in proclaiming that all of these experiences are all bad, thus masking these vitally important variations of experiences.
A scientific classification system is better when it helps us to see things of interest more clearly, rather than to mask them. The classification system of mental health concerns would serve to break us out of the DSM cloister of words and reopen us to the source of our experience.
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Some people will enjoy reading this blog by beginning with the first post and then moving forward to the next more recent one; then to the next one; and so on. This permits readers to catch up on some ideas that were presented earlier and to move through all of the ideas in a systematic fashion to develop their emotional and social intelligence. To begin at the very first post you can click HERE.
Welcome to From Insults to Respect. On this blog, from time to time, we have been discussing depression. To help us better understand this deeply troubling experience, we have looked at the biographies of several individuals who, despite their mighty struggles with depression, still managed to earn the respect of millions. Today, we quickly review three of these biographies, that of the brilliant psychologist and philosopher William James, the remarkable musical performer Joni Mitchell, and the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy.
Finally, in an earlier post (see here) we looked at the great writer, Leo Tolstoy. In his painfully personal book, My Confession, Leo Tolstoy tells us about his two-year period of despair. At about the age of 50, his life had become “flat, more than flat: dead.” Suicidal thoughts were all too frequent.
Wrenshall Smith encountered him returning from the battle and depicted him as “much depressed. He dismounted and took a seat on the stone. What is the situation, I asked? Bad–very bad, he replied.” Samuel Beckwith noticed that after Cold Harbor Grant’s face developed “a careworn expression that indicated sleepless nights and fearsome days.” When he delivered a message to the general’s tent, he found him sunk in thought. After absorbing the telegram, Grant sighed, “Beckwith,” he said, “the hardest part of this General business is the responsibility for the loss of one’s men. I can see no other way out of it, however; we’ve got to keep at them. But it is hard, very hard, to see all these brave fellows killed and wounded. It means aching hearts back home.”
The doctors’ statements about this imply that if treated with “antidepressants” this can decrease the risk of suicide enough so that the depressed patient, by taking the drug, is better off than facing the risk of any adverse effects of the drug. But the doctors don’t know what the long term effects of taking the drugs are. What’s more, the scientific evidence currently available indicates that these drugs do not reduce the risk of suicide, and may actually increase it by as much as 8 percent (see HERE for the most recent review of the research).
This alternative is uplifting, less stigmatizing, and conducive to a recovery point of view. It is a view that posits that depression has the potential to open our eyes to the fullness of truth. The suffering that goes along with the experience is a natural part of life, a view held by Nietzsche, as well as Buddhists and many other wisdom traditions. Additionally, it is an enormous source for creativity, and as we go through it, it can lead to one insight after another.
This is an important lesson for so many of us who were brought up being taught to feel embarrassed and guilty when experiencing deeply sad emotions. In fact, for those who were brought up this way, they often believe that it is proper to lose respect for people who experience such emotions. They often end up having, each time they, personally, experience depression, a double depression. That is, not only do they at times begin to become depressed because of the reasons that would normally lead to feelings of melancholy, but they are additionally depressed about feeling that there is something terribly wrong with them, that they have bad genes and a stigmatizing illness requiring medication with all kinds of negative side-effects.
Giving up this tendency to feel a double depression for those who learned it throughout their childhood and well into their adult life often requires a relationship with someone providing quality social ties and social support. Substantial evidence (see here for a research literature review) has accumulated over the past few decades showing that social ties and social support are positively and causally related to mental health, physical health, and longevity. Evidence also documents that social support buffers the harmful physical and mental health impacts of stress exposure.
Although it is least expensive to receive this kind of support from warm, close friends and family members, sometimes those whom we are most close to hold the very same pathologizing beliefs that is holding one back from real recovery. At such times, finding a professional personal counselor who does not hold to the pathologizing point of view can be enormously helpful if the financial situation can be reasonably worked out. Discussions with the professional who typically responds in a very supportive manner, models for the person receiving counseling the type of skills that is helpful when we look within as we experience melancholy. Instead of berating ourselves for acting pathological, we come to learn to be kind to ourselves and to nurse hope that something positive will come from what we are going through.
Some non-pathologizing counselors will also encourage you to learn to meditate and utilize other mindfulness techniques. Here you practice observing your physical sensations when you are dealing with the disrespectful perceptions. In time, the disrespectful words that you tend to direct at yourself come to lose their disturbing nature. For a period of time these words still come, but you end up smiling at them as you realize they are not matching reality. In time, they may completely fade away as you embrace the physical sensations that come with melancholy.
Now, I understand that many people will find it hard to find in their community the type of counseling services I am describing. This may be because many professional counselors have adopted the same pathologizing approaches as psychiatrists, although they do believe counseling services, when combined with drug treatment, can be beneficial. For those who would like to work with a non-pathologizing personal counselor but find it difficult to find one within a convenient distance from home, I highly recommend two who can work with you individually via Skype–my son, Jack Star Rubin, and his lovely wife, Emily Whyte Rubin (see here to learn more about the counseling approach of these two personal counselors and their contact information).
With that explanation, the two women nodded to one another, and continued on to another story, seemingly satisfied that they now knew why the boy was dealing with this issue.
