COLUMN: Over the edge

From Sarah Giulian's, "From Under My Rock," Fall '96 From Sarah Giulian's, "From Under My Rock," Fall '96Depression seemsFrom Sarah Giulian's, "From Under My Rock," Fall '96Depression seemsdepressingly common onFrom Sarah Giulian's, "From Under My Rock," Fall '96Depression seemsdepressingly common oncampus this fall.From Sarah Giulian's, "From Under My Rock," Fall '96Depression seemsdepressingly common oncampus this fall. Another one of my friends is on the abyss. It's strange, but I'm never surprised. What? You say you're terribly depressed, regularly contemplating suicide, not motivated, not eating, not sleeping? Join the club. Every day I'm asking myself, "What the hell is going on? Why is everyone so messed up?" Is it senior year? Is it Penn? Is it our generation? Is it society or an increasing chemical imbalance? Are we just the first group to admit that we're scared? Here's an unfortunate scenario: A close friend of mine, who I had pegged for three years as one of the happier, more content people I know, mentioned to me a few weeks ago that she'd been feeling depressed. This escalated. Classes started but she never went, much less bought books. She cried a lot, hit that well-known edge (the "I-either-have-to-end-my-life-now-or-get-some-help" situation) and began seeing a therapist, went on medication and even bought her books. For me, and for a lot of you, I'm sure, this story has become a bit too familiar. Even if everything is stable in your life, you know your fair share of "strange" people, be they moody or reclusive. These are people who just don't find meaning in life anymore. We are a generation termed "slackers," and this designation isn't surprising. We've grown up in relatively stable times -- no Great Depression, no war, no major political turmoils. So what happens when you have no outside forces to react to? Maybe you turn to the inner ones. Maybe wrestling with these demons can lead to what we call "depression." What you're left with is brooding, painful self-reflection. People battle with their own thoughts, rather than with outside problems, and they are surprised to find themselves losing. And so, one by one, they give up, turn themselves in and walk the resigned path toward a pain greater than hell. It's not that they want to die -- they just don't want to live. A psychology study conducted in 1994 found that 11 percent of 15 to 24-year-old males have had at least one incident of major depression in their lifetimes. That's one out of every 10 guys you know. For women in the same age group, the incidence of depression is 20.8 percent. Do a little math: That's one out of every five girls you know. A pretty staggering percentage, isn't it? What makes matters worse is that we've become so desensitized to others' misery. It may be because we know so many people who suffer the disease of depression or because we are trying to handle the fact that we suffer from it ourselves. But when someone, like my good friend, tells me she needs help, I am too full to offer any. Our difficulty in handling incapacitating depression is one thing, but the reason for its existence is a whole different issue. I'm not wondering how depression arises in a specific person, but how it can grab such a staggering percentage of a generation by our necks and carry us away. I spoke with a licensed psychologist who has been researching this subject, and she readily admitted that there has been an increase in cases of depression, in addition to eating and personality disorders. She did not, however, agree with my internal explanation for the increase. She has identified a different cause: Childhood trauma. Why are women two times more likely to be depressed? Because we're more likely to have suffered physical or emotional trauma. The media often provides potent visual messages that traumatizing someone is OK, and the family typically reinforces it. A look at any of the statistics confirm this point. Two years ago, the American Psychiatric Association conducted a study on sexual molestation and found that 38 percent of women under 18 had been the victims of this destructive crime. This figure doesn't even include rapes and adult (or college) sexual traumas. Children need three things to grow up healthy: To know they're loved, competent and safe. What they carry away from any trauma is the exact opposite. This is by no means the only reason for depression, but for our age group, it's a major one. I suspect escalating drug and alcohol use and abuse perpetuates the problem of depression. Both alcohol and marijuana are incredibly prevalent and readily available to anyone who chooses to partake. And both are severe depressants -- not during your escape, but after. Constant use of either chemical builds in your system -- it takes approximately three months of not smoking to rid your body of the effects of weed -- and if somebody who is prone to depression or is battling it already takes up this habit, the unperceived effects can severely aggravate the horrifying misery. I've seen it happen. These are my observations on a trend that is slipping through every crack in our lives. I came back to this column a day after I began it to search for a conclusion, and I can find none. In the last 24 hours, I've learned two more acquaintances have been battling depression with therapy and prescription drugs. The friend I mentioned earlier, who seemed to be taking the steps toward recovery, just suffered a frightening breakdown. She'll be returning home for the rest of the semester. And I always thought she was happy.