When It Comes To Statistics About Depression, The Truth Can Be a Killer

I’ve never been a big fan of statistics because most of the time the results aren’t in my favor and even worse — there’s the chance that these “newly” released results are recycled fare from previous years — that are being re-activated by editors who don’t invest much in the accuracy of their beats.

By mid-year — without fail — Black women get the annual reminders about why they’re still single and will probably never find a mate — based on the dismal forecast that’s heightened by the calculation of why we’re the “least desired” — and as always — the findings are drawn from data that hasn’t been tinkered with — since 2004.

Then as summer approaches— the weather heats up and bodies are on display for the competition of “who wears skimpy items— the best” — and we get the expected bulletin of why certain templates that are sported by White women — beat out the rest — who aren’t born with delicately refined features.

Failing in those categories isn’t a life-altering event — because it’s abundantly clear that media outlets are dedicated to rapidly churning out content — that just needs minor updates in order to make them as good as new. I learned that the hard way when I was assigned the task of sifting through mountains of generic content — in a quest to fulfill orders from homepage editors — who are appallingly uninspired and over-worked.

But — when it comes to certain topics like depression — all bets are off and there’s no patience for the clickbait headlines and over-simplified articles that match the ones from almost a year ago.

This has been the case lately — and this time the demographic has been swapped for the one that is more suited for the upcoming second season of one of the worst shows ever to be produced — Netflix’s — 13 Reasons Why.

The avalanche of essays — armed with evidential formulas — are hoping to convince young people that their never-ending days of sadness can be validated by the realization that they are currently trending.

There’s a spike in the number of teens and Millennials who suffer from depression — just like there was a major increase with older people six months ago — and six months from now that will be re-directed back to middle-aged White men.

I firmly believe that when it comes to statistics about depression — the truth can be a killer.

Mental health is an issue that affects us all regardless of race or religion — and so — these yearly manuals that are published to heighten the impact for one group over others — only seem to create confusion and possibly a sense of guilt — if you’re not represented in ways that match your persistently fragile state.

The current climate in media has been immersed in the practice of gross negligence as readers are no longer considered in the grand scheme of things. It’s all about the seasons and how traffic numbers will respond to dusted off fare — that needs to see the light of day or else it risks the danger of a prolonged delay.

As a voracious reader — I’m not part of the generation that leaves comments based on the header without actually examining the article. This is probably why I’m well-versed in the practices of online pubs — that truly do rely on shit from the past to carry them through cycles — when it’s needed the most.

You can’t trust anything anymore and it’s actually worse than “fake news” because the information isn’t necessarily misleading — it’s just enhanced and tossed on the page as if the debut is a refreshingly earnest assessment of a very serious matter.

For me — depression has always been a constant companion due to an incident of childhood trauma — but once my forties hit — my emotional state took a nosedive as I battled hormonal disorders that mind-fucked my existence beyond capacity.

I was flailing for two years without a life jacket — and of course there’s the panic that embraces when you contemplate that you’re suffering silently and alone. You don’t find many essays about women in their forties who are held captive by a sickness that is birthed when your body punishes — you for entering a controversial decade of life.

After extensive research — I was able to unearth testimonies from professionals and women like me — who are able to present the facts about my predicament with a relatable delivery that’s validating.

I suppose the often times debilitating struggles of my age group isn’t the kind of stuff that would garner much traffic or limitless attention. Nobody wants to hear about how aging women are coping with the effects of their disposition — and why it’s extremely vital that they get the support they deserve before sinking deeper into the depths of helplessness.

There seems to be more attention applied (and the spotlight is warranted) to the plight of middle-aged men who are feeling overwhelmed by inadequacies — at a time when they can’t do too much to improve things. Or much older folks — who are sad because of the loss of their partners or just the general fear of their mortality — which is a subject they can no longer avoid.

And then the younger crowd — that can’t help but be weighed down with symptoms of melancholy that can be driven by the need to fit into the perfectly carved out spaces — constructed by the evils of social media for mass consumption. Or it’s self-esteem issues — that plague the population — impressionable enough to believe they can’t ever measure up to the “norm.”

There are hefty narratives that are aimed to make us accept how depression is definable through research — that polls the right victims — in order to crash the variables — congregating for the sake of thwarting the calculating efforts of those who need to make a point — at all costs.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month — and it has to be pointed out that the mind isn’t to be fucked with — because the power it wields is scarily ominous — which means that you could be in contact with a happy-go-lucky co-worker who randomly doesn’t show up for work one day — for reasons that will end stun in the end.

Depression is a life-threatening disease that attacks people of all ages and stations in life — and so — yes — it does help to track its progress — but the plethora of renewed pieces that are scheduled “at the right time” to converge with upcoming programming— does a great disservice to real-life sufferers who are never comforted by breaking news about their condition.

Enough with the statistics!

What about well-documented offerings from those who know what they’re talking about based on their personal challenges — including what they’re doing to alleviate the pain — if they’re doing anything at all.

I’m yet to visit with a therapist who can help me de-clog the massive burden I’ve been carrying around for all my life. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t fostered healthy relationships — romantic or otherwise. I’m holding myself back — and maybe it’s because I’m comfortable with my victimhood — and scared shitless of what it would be like to be on the road to recovery — without the crutch of my pitiful life story — serving as backup.

When you see the splashes of headlines in god-awful outlets like Daily Mail — that go on and on about how young people are screwed because they’re young — and therefore susceptible to the level of vulnerability — that tends to dampen their spirits— it evokes the falsehood that this disease can peak to the point of trending based on the temperature of culture.

Yes — to some extent certain vices can bring up or enhance already deposited cells — but we can’t ignore the fact this is an actual illness that isn’t curable. It’s just as brutal as any other life-threatening diagnosis that needs to be carefully managed with the utmost consideration for what can happen if things suddenly go awry.

It’s time to dispense with the casualness of reporting — and get back to the hard-hitting methods that produced cohesive and insightfully thought-provoking pieces that actually saved lives — instead of wrecking them.

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