But really, now:

In the current study, 15 people suffering from severe depression for at least five years who weren't helped by other forms of treatment received DBS implants. Six months later, 47.1 percent had at least a 50 percent reduction in their depressive symptoms, based on a commonly used depression scale. At one year, that number was 50 percent.

Posted by liz at 04:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE

VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE
VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE

Posted by liz at 07:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Horse Race of a Different Color

In November 2006 Barack Obama gathered supporters to discuss running for president. When someone asked him about race, The New York Times reported, “Mr. Obama’s dismissal was swift and unequivocal. He had been able to navigate racial politics in Illinois, Mr. Obama told the group, and was confident he could do so across the nation. ‘I believe America is ready,’ one aide recalled him saying.”

But after claiming Americans were ready to look beyond race when they considered a presidential candidate, a month ago Obama found himself delivering a lengthy speech on race—partially in response to the controversy surrounding Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the leader of his black church.

I never believed in Obama’s idea of post-racial politics. Maybe it’s living in a racially fraught city like Philadelphia that breeds such cynicism. Whatever the reason, I’m going in the opposite direction. I’m voting for Obama because he’s black.

That requires explaining, I know.

I take voting extremely seriously. I always have, even in mock elections as a child. I get neurotic about it beforehand. I stay awake nights. I get a nervous stomach. The Clinton/Obama race has really taxed me. I’ve consumed so much information about both candidates, it’s been like a Wing Bowl primary.

Ultimately, I’ve decided to make my vote consonant with my decision to vote for the African-American candidate. I’m not suggesting you do the same because my logic is highly personal, and slightly weird.

About a year ago I had a crisis of faith about doing good. I’m embarrassed to admit it was spurred by a Mahatma Gandhi quotation. I don’t remember where I found it. On a website offering words of wisdom? Who knows? It was undoubtedly somewhere humiliating.

The quotation: “The measure of a country’s greatness should be based on how well it cares for its most vulnerable populations.”

My first reaction was, “Jeez. Based on that, the U.S. sucks.” Not exactly eloquent, but how’s your internal monologue? I bet you use some shorthand too.

Something in me clicked. I left full-time work at PW to go into social services—first at an agency that advocated for incarcerated people, and now at a mental health center. Each day I think about what Gandhi said, only I’ve changed it: “The measure of Liz should be based on how well she cares for her country’s most vulnerable populations.”

African-Americans are this country’s most vulnerable citizens. They are more devastatingly and disproportionately affected by poverty, hunger, incarceration, crime and unemployment than any other ethnic group.

It’s a life-and-death situation. If you’re an African-American woman, your baby is more than twice as likely to die than if you’re a white woman. You’re less likely to survive cancer. You’re more likely to have AIDS and diabetes. And you’re far less likely to have health insurance.

There are complex reasons for all of these problems, which are perhaps best explained by a social scientist rather than someone who can calculate only a 20 percent tip. But I do know this: Racism is a defining factor.

I’m part of a minority group myself, but if I want to be hidden about my ethnicity, I can pass. That’s a luxury African-Americans don’t have. If you’re African-American, the first thing a person knows about you is that you’re black—whether it’s at a job interview, in a classroom, at an ER or a court proceeding. African-Americans have to challenge people’s assumptions about them every day from the minute they walk in the door.

How do I know Barack Obama would be good for African-Americans? I don’t. No American president in recent history has been especially good for black people—not even Bill Clinton, our first black president, according to Toni Morrison.

But it’s a matter of hope, which is sadly lacking in black America. If you have a black president, imagine the message that sends to black children, and to African-Americans who feel hopeless about their lives. Never has the most powerful person in this country resembled the least powerful. What would it be like for our most vulnerable citizens to see themselves that way?

I’ve heard some say there’s no way America is ready to have black children romping on the White House lawn. There’s a part of me that believes that. Every time a racist incident happens in Philadelphia—like the recent vandalism of a home purchased by a black family in a white neighborhood—it’s hard for me to imagine America is ready to have Michelle Obama as first lady, no matter how pretty her suits are.

But we have to try. On behalf of the most vulnerable, I must vote for Barack Obama in the hope that having a black family in the White House will revolutionize the way we see black people—in the same way some feminists hope having a female president would change the way women are treated.

There may be a time when America is ready for post-racial politics, and when that time comes, I hope our most vulnerable will be in a very different place. Until then, I’ve made my decision. As another quotable gentleman said (according to Matthew 6:2-4), “When you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do. Announce it in the quiet of the voting booth.” Or something like that.

Posted by liz at 10:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

So why has this blog gotten so spotty? Well, aside from my personal problems, for a while the plan was to kind of ease away from a mental health blog and go forward with other topics -- namely, a books blog. So it seemed best to kind of gradually wean everyone off of the blog, as we might with Effexor (if your doctor does it right), so that when I started the books blog, it wouldn't be so jarring. Or something to that effect, anyway.

The books blog, however, isn't really happening. There are some complications, so now I'm faced with figuring out what will happen to this blog -- which isn't at all clear to me. I'll let you know asap. (Do you say that "A.S.A.P."? Or like tree sap with "a" in front of it? I think saying "asap" is funnier.)

As long as we have this opportunity to rethink things, let me know what kind of topics you'd most like addressed.

Posted by liz at 10:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (21)

From Thaindian News:

Forced to flee from their homeland, often without their parents, and then living as refugees has led to high depression levels among young Tibetans, says a study by a US researcher. The findings of the study by researcher Charles L. Raison of the Emory University School of Medicine have been published in the latest issue of the journal Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology.

The study states that as compared to Tibetans born and brought up in exile in places like northern India and Nepal, those refugees born in Tibet and then fleeing from there have higher levels of anxiety and depression. ...

“One-third of these refugees are children and 90 percent of those children are without parents. Not only have these children been victimized in an environment lacking in respect for human rights, but their escape from Tibet to India through the perilous Himalayas is full of risk and trauma,” he added.

High depression levels among young Tibetans: study

Posted by liz at 08:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by liz at 09:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

Unfortunately there is no upside to the tragedy of suicide. There are the victims that leave us, and the victims that are left behind. Sadly there is more than enough anger and torment left behind to touch everyone involved. That goes with the so many unanswered questions of why? As we that are emotional attached to that person ask ourselves why didn’t I see this ugly event coming? It’s like questioning ourselves over something like a bad weather event or an earth quake that we have little or no power to control.

There are also those thought to be crowned selfish for what they feel; yet hold on to quite valid questions of why would someone that cared about me, and professed to love me: betray me in such a heartless and brutal fashion? All these emotions are valid, and will surely be felt in a broad spectrum of intensity and measure.

I heard so many times from those sitting in the bleachers as unattached on lookers; tauntingly grumbling from those seats so ardently and articulately that those that commit suicide are weak and take the easy way out. I happen to believe that is so far from the lived reality, and in all actuality light years from the horrific truth. I also have been to that perilous edge many times in my life, and know all too well the anguish and agony that grabbles your mind in that delusional gloominess dark, moronic, painful, hopeless, and fragile state of unbearable Hell.

As you do Liz; I have suicidal idealizations fairly often. I have learned through time and experience to embrace those times and draw strength from them; as if I was drawing buckets full of life giving water from the well of existence itself, renewing and quenching with vigor and fortitude the very thirst for this precious gift of continued breath.

There are no satisfactory summations to be made for the act of suicide; just the scattered ruins of one more life left unfulfilled, and those trying to understand and pick up the remnants of their shattered being which is never completely understood or fathomed with any true clarity or peaceful resolution in our very heart of hearts.
I guess our only hope in limiting this horrific and tragic outcome of self inflicted death is recognition, intervention, and prevention. The stark and cold reality is that neither of those options will ever be foolproof or effective in all situations. Which is sadly obvious by what the menacing data and statistics bear out on this act; whichever study you wish to believe as most accurate or valid, the numbers are still staggering.

Stan, thanks for sharing. Beautifully said.

Posted by liz at 02:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I canceled all my Google alerts yesterday because I was constantly being inundated, and it was mostly by news that didn't really matter to me. But I kept the suicide Google alert because I have a morbid obsession with the subject, having attempted several times myself and dealing with ongoing suicidal ideation almost every day. I've learned that the ideation, in my case, doesn't signal danger; I just don't think about life in the same way other people do. I have to know I have a way out, and suicide is my way to have control.

Recently a friend of a friend committed suicide, and I was surprised to find myself sympathizing far more with the survivors rather than the person who killed himself. It was a case where the man and his wife suffered a great family tragedy and financial misfortune, and he killed himself and left his wife to handle the family tragedy alone. It really pissed me off. When someone commits suicide and it's in the headlines, we tend to focus on that person, not the people he's left behind. But in this case, knowing the people involved, I focused on the wife and her child and I just felt angry. How could he do that to her? I know it's irrational to think that way. He did the best he could, and he's not to blame. I just feel so heartbroken for his wife.

I felt a similar kind of anger when I read about Sonny Graham (far left in the photo), who committed suicide in the same way his organ donor did. In the mid-90s, Graham got a heart transplant after a younger man, Terry Cottle, shot himself and died. Graham eventually contacted Cottle's widow, Cheryl (next to Sonny), to thank the family for giving him the gift of life. They got to know each other, and in a romance-movie twist, fell in love and got married in 2004.

Can you imagine what Cheryl went through -- losing her husband to suicide? Then she meets the man who has her husband's heart, and four years aftery they get married, her second husband -- same heart, though -- shoots himself too. It's just awful. I was furious when I read the story. How could Sonny do that? He knew what this poor women went through. He knew he'd be putting her through it again. It got me so pissed off. But again, I suppose it's not right to feel that way. Sonny Graham must have been suffering horribly.

For the whole story, click here.

Posted by liz at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)