Letters to the Editor
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Big hugs for Cary
Dear Cary,
I've been a long time reader at Salon and have always loved your columns. I've only ever lurked but was so moved by your 'confessional' that I registered just so I could post this, my first Salon response.
I want to give you a big hug. I don't know what else to say (how do you give advice to an advice columnist?) I just want you to know that I'm sure there are many thousands of other readers/lurkers, the world over, who enjoy and are enriched by your writings. But like me, for whatever reason, have never before replied online. Take care, big fella! And know that your efforts are truly appreciated. Cheers!
41 year old guy in New Zealand
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You're Living in the Suburbs, What Do You Expect?
OK, maybe that's a little snarky, but think about it. Suburbs are basically bedroom communities with no stimulation but trying to make sure you don't violate the written (or unwritten) rules of the neighborhood. Keep up the property, don't let the kids play too loud and, in general, don't BE too loud.
My parents finally made the move to the suburbs when I started high school and it was like moving to another planet. People regarded you with suspicion if you walked around the neighborhood instead of driving. It wasn't until the jogging craze started that this attitude shifted a little. There are still a zillion little rules about how far your lamp post can be from the street or how high your grass can grow before the cosmetics police show up. I still visit my parents there and I never, ever see neighbors talking to each other or even leaving their houses. Total cocooning. The schools were and are good and the crime was low when I lived there (except for high school students breaking into garages to steal booze) but I'm still not sure it was worth the tradeoff.
If you like where you live, then OK, it's not the problem. You say you feel like you're hanging by a thread sometimes. Maybe you are. How secure do you really feel about your job? Maybe you have a sneaking suspicion it might be farmed out to another country, or you will be hounded from it in the near future to be replaced by a younger, cheaper worker. Are you worried about the value of your house? If the news is any indication, maybe you should be. Think health insurance will keep you from going bankrupt if one of you gets cancer or has an extended hospital stay? Not necessarily.
Listen, I don't mean to make you more depressed, but it sounds to me like you are maybe grasping how tenuous the good life can be, even when it seems you are in like Flynn. It shouldn't be a stunner that life can turn on a dime, but we are still surprised when it does.
So do as Cary suggests. Be good to yourself. Get a medical checkup. Depression can and often does have an organic cause. (Low testosterone levels can cause depression as well as a low libido) Eat well, get enough sleep, try some exercise, and don't censor your thoughts. The real problem might pop into your head at the damndest time.
My own suggestion to add to the ones above is take more pictures. Sounds odd, but during one of the worst periods of my life I would take down the photo albums and boxes and assure myself that life HAD been good once and I had the pictures to prove it.
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Why are "little girls" the whipping boys?
My bout of depression hit at 38. I'm very grateful for meds; talking was not enough. Imagine the physical pain of a killer headache or a throbbing leg suddenly lifting. The world looks very different.
Someone here wrote that depressed folks ought to stop the pity party and think about those who suffer real harms. But researchers think one source of depression is precisely an overactive sense of responsibility (get it right, make sure others are okay, use your will to perform everything you can and should) that has gone into overdrive. When you have internalized large obligations but have little power to meet them all, it leads to depression. That's why this is an affliction that can hit those with resources and otherwise comfortable lives. It's not selfishness or myopia.
Cary, I'm an admirer. Thanks. I gotta say, though, that after reading the LW's letter and your response, I felt bad for little girls. "Whine like a little girl"? Yeah, kids whine--but my two sons do it with some regularity. Then, "slap" a little girl? What's up with that?
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Cary, you're awesome.
Thank you for holding a space for mythos. I know it's not easy. But we really need people like you!
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Thank you Cary
Cary, thank you for both your letters. Please don't take us in the Letters Ghetto so seriously. Anominity makes people a little nastier than they might be otherwise. And we're a cranky, curmudgeonly group even on a good day.
And thanks for the answer to the (maybe) depressed husband. It was good to be reminded of back when I was 16, and yes I went to demonstrations, and had a lot more faith in our ability to change things that I do now in my mid 40s. It's really amazing that more of us don't go insane.
One more nutty monkey,
Orchids
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What this column has done for me
It has given me a look inside the affluent American psyche, a perspective I could never have gained anywhere else. My own impressions were no more than that; this column is real evidence.
I'm the child of a couple that met in a refugee camp. One of my parents is dead, the other is entirely dependent on me. Both were bizarre, and I like it that way. I have lived outside the United States for extended periods, but never thought I would leave permanently. Reading this column has opened my mind to considering emigration again, and sometimes even to daydream about renouncing citizenship. You all (or nearly all) are far more different as a people from absolutely anyone else on this planet, and it's no wonder that you are unhappy. I'm very sorry for that, but as for me, if I do have a few more years, or decades, left to me after I've done what I have to do, I have no doubt about what I will do. And it has nothing to do with paying a mortgage or watering a lawn. Suddenly even the adulterers are gaining my sympathy.
Thank you again to this column. I knew I was lucky. I didn't know how lucky.