The Truth About Depression

There are a lot of books, articles, and essays on depression. Every PhD in Psychology is an expert on depression. Counselors, and clinicians, further complicate things, (aside with their dry long winded writing on the subject), with prescriptions, therapy, etc.

There are severe chemical imbalances in some people, they need medication, but they are few and far between in a population of millions. Thousands of people suffer from depression, most of it is short term, or sporadic. The reason most people go into a depression is simple, they stop dreaming. I don’t mean when they go to sleep, I mean “A Dream”, something to look forward too. A dream, no matter how big or small, pulls us forward, gives us passion. It can be as simple as becoming a better golfer, a better writer, dreaming of being published, or a musician. Whatever it is doesn’t matter, and how big it is, is not the point. The point is this; we all need something to look forward to, all of us. Our dream can be anything we think is attainable to us. The moment it is no longer attainable, we go into a depression without even realizing it.

We all need something that is just ours, outside of our everyday life, a goal or dream to work toward, no matter how big or small. We don’t even need anyone else to share it with, or to believe in it, as long as we believe in it, that’s the most important thing. “James Allen” said in “As a Man Thinketh” “Dreamers are the saviors of the world”. Nothing could be truer. People who don’t dream are dull and drab, with no color and no personality, we all know one. People who don’t dream get old before their time, they simply exist, how horrible is that? I don’t know and I don’t want to know, I’m to busy living.

The world we live in is finite, our time is limited. We have 75-85 years, barring the unforeseen of course. Pick a dream, any dream, maybe it’s simply a matter of resurrecting an old or long forgotten one, who cares, get some inspiration, some color, have fun. Depression can’t coexist with fun, it will soon flee.

I knew a man named Sy many years ago. He was 82 and loved photography. His apartment was crammed with photos of nature, people, and full of camera equipment. He told me to never forget how to “play”, to dream and have fun, that it didn’t have to leave with childhood. I never forgot.