"It's like...": Talking About Depression Through Similes and Metaphors

As someone who was on Prozac for two years, the thing I still think of immediately upon hearing the word is the commercials they used to have, with a cartoon person under a cloud that followed her around.  I remember thinking, "Yeah...no, it's not like that."

It's not that the single-person-rain cloud is a terrible metaphor, but it's really not a great one, either.  For one thing, we use that particular metaphor to refer to people who bring drama or other things we don't like to a situation, regardless of whether that person is actually mentally ill.  It's specificity, therefore, leaves much to be desired, and  more than that, it lumps those of us who are actively fighting against that "cloud" with persons who embrace it.  Another thing is, while we all might find Pigpen from "Peanuts" cute, we also all think he could go and find himself a bar of soap and some water.  In other words, when we see artistic representations where only one person is being affected by something, we tend to put the onus of dealing with it on that person without much consideration for what that means.

Obviously, metaphors and similes are contextual.  Not every one is going to apply in every situation.  But, here are a few solid and decently transferable ones.

1.  The broken arm:  I cannot take credit for this one, it comes from a friend whose brother is on the Autism spectrum.  Hir mom once told hir that if hir brother had a broken arm, nobody would expect him to pitch a baseball game with that arm.  But because nobody could SEE the Autism out front, people often expected life skills of him that were the equivalent of asking a kid in a cast to pitch that ball.

Depression is the same way.  No, you can't see it.  That doesn't make it less real than a broken arm and it certainly does not make it less debilitating or limiting.  Some people with depression CAN do everything persons without can.  Others cannot, plain and simple.  And even the ones who can?  Are struggling at least ten times as much as a person with normal brain chemistry to complete the same exact task.

2:  The minefield:  Also not mine.  I wish I could remember who I picked this up from.  Living with depression is like walking through a minefield every day, except that only the person with depression knows there are mines.  She spends all day avoiding them, and if she gets to the other side of the field, everybody acts like it's not a big deal, no accomplishment, nothing to give her a shoulder squeeze about and say, "Hey, well done."

HOWEVER, if she accidentally trigger one of those mines, it's huge and ugly, there's a good chance others get hurt and everyone blames her.  She didn't actually SET the mines, she just couldn't avoid one.  Whether she couldn't see it, or it wasn't possible to jump over, or whatever, the triggering was not intentional.  But she gets in trouble for it, all the same, when every other day, hurtling and running and desperately trying to cross that damn field, everyone takes her actions for granted.

3.  The monster:  This one is mine.  Every day I get up and I'm being attacked--think of this in physical terms.  The attacker is up to the person creating the metaphor.  Mine is amorphous and monstrous.

But I'm being attacked.  And I'm struggling against my attacker, throwing kicks and punches, screaming for help, trying all kinds of things, waving my hands.  It's not just that nobody hears me--although many people don't--it's that people hear and walk by anyway.  In my head, I'm always on a busy street, and people know what's happening, but they still walk on by.

The thing is, at the end of every day, the monster resolves itself into me.  Because, as one of my friend with depression once said, "The problem is, my brain is trying to kill me."

I agree, to a certain extent.  But really, my brain is trying to do the maximum amount of harm UNTIL it can kill me.  Which means that, yes, the monster I'm fighting?  Me, and only me.

This is a short post, because I don't want to muddle this issue, it's too important.  Verbal and visual representation of mental illness in a positive way is sorely lacking, and if I can inject just a little bit of it into the common rhetoric, I will be pleased.

To sum up: things to avoid are more broad metaphors and similes--pick something specific, like a broken arm, like a physical attack, a minefield.  Avoid metaphors and similes that are used for sadness, because sadness is different.  Use descriptive terms and EXPLAIN why the two are good comparisons.

And please, if anyone has other good metaphors/similes, leave them in the comments.

ETA:  A comment was left with the World Health Organization's video on depression.  This metaphor did not work for me, because it needed a LOT of narrative explanation, which I try to avoid, and because it's based on a dog, which is something I have positive associations with.  That said, it might work for others, so I am glad to have the resource.  Thanks, Jay!