Getting a Whole Lotta Grief
It's gorgeous outside, and I'm fresh off a great run around the lake that ended with lots of hugs from friends, some of whom I haven't seen in years. My grandmother's happy as a clam after going out for breakfast. Even the turtles seem excited by the major tank overhaul currently in progress.
And yet, I'm thinking about depression.
Specifically, I'm thinking about a piece I read early this morning in Time about whether mourning the death of someone should be reclassified as a mental disorder, therefore treatable with medications. Psychiatry differs from other medical professions in several ways, chief being the brain does not operate like other organs. As such, professionals rely on a dynamic manual that is periodically updated to reflect the general consensus of experts in the field.
This is a powerful book. For instance, the spike in austism in the past decade is in part because the manual broadened the definition of the disorder, which allowed a lot more people to be classified as autistic.
And now, as it undergoes another revision, medical experts are wondering if grief is a medical condition worthy of special treatment and not just a normal reaction to a loss.
I pondered this on my morning run and remembered over the years the times I've come here to the lake to help process a loved one's death. That's how a lot of us handle our bereavement, by working it out through working out. Sometimes, though, I see people mismanaging their grief and wonder if medication might get them to the next level. Is it really depression in the clinical sense, or is it just life that we all eventually face?
And yet, I'm thinking about depression.
Specifically, I'm thinking about a piece I read early this morning in Time about whether mourning the death of someone should be reclassified as a mental disorder, therefore treatable with medications. Psychiatry differs from other medical professions in several ways, chief being the brain does not operate like other organs. As such, professionals rely on a dynamic manual that is periodically updated to reflect the general consensus of experts in the field.
This is a powerful book. For instance, the spike in austism in the past decade is in part because the manual broadened the definition of the disorder, which allowed a lot more people to be classified as autistic.
And now, as it undergoes another revision, medical experts are wondering if grief is a medical condition worthy of special treatment and not just a normal reaction to a loss.
I pondered this on my morning run and remembered over the years the times I've come here to the lake to help process a loved one's death. That's how a lot of us handle our bereavement, by working it out through working out. Sometimes, though, I see people mismanaging their grief and wonder if medication might get them to the next level. Is it really depression in the clinical sense, or is it just life that we all eventually face?
