Why talking about mental illness helps

I’d almost make the argument that the thing that makes the most sense about depression is that it doesn’t make any sense at all.

Like, none.

Understand that this is just my perspective, but hear me out on this one.  Depression, anxiety, mental illness, the works, they make no damn sense.  I mean, isn’t one of the things that makes us human the ability to control our own thoughts and act independently?  “I think, therefore, I am?” and all that?

Which is why having a mind that works against you so darn frustrating.

Call me crazy here…okay, don’t, I do that enough on my own…but I think that one of the reasons that depression is so frustrating, confusing and mystifying is that it goes against the very thing that makes us human: Our ability to think.  Humans are fundamentally logical and emotional creatures, right?  I firmly believe that there is a piece of our own minds will always believe that it is in control.

Of course, that isn’t the case.

Even now, even as someone who has been living with depression for years and doing so in a very public forum – it still makes no sense to me.  How is it that people who are so successful, loved and popular can still suffer so?  And I ask myself this question despite the fact that I am someone who has depression.

So, that brings me back to the crux of this blog entry: Why I think that talking about depression/mental illness in an open, honest and public manner helps, and why I always encourage others to do the same.

I think it helps us make sense.

I firmly believe that the idea that we aren’t in complete control of our emotions and thoughts is a truly alien one, something that most of us struggle with on some base level.  To that extent, I think that talking about mental illness helps.  It helps us process what’s going on in our brain and make sense of the thoughts and feelings that we are experiencing.

I obviously don’t have all the answers to mental illness – if I did, I’d be a lot richer, and at least a little bit happier.  But I would suggest this: If you are one of the people suffering in silence, do what you can to change that perspective.  Talk about it.  You may not have access to a supportive network of family or friends, but I think you’d be surprised at the amount of online support groups that you can participate in – anonymously or not.  Even the act of sitting there, and formulating your feelings, can help process your emotions and make a positive difference in your life.

And, on a personal note: I’ve found that this blog has helped my advocacy tremendously, and not just because it gives someone else a chance to read my thoughts.  By putting “pen to paper,” so to speak, it gives me a chance to organize my thoughts, examine my feelings and reevaluate the way I handle my own recovery.  It’s also helped me to rethink some of my public advocacy, in particular the portions related to stigma – it’s not just stigma that matters, but self-stigma.  

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts.  Am I onto something here?  Let us know in the comments, and have a wonderful day!

Mental health and the holidays

Gobble gobble!

Now that the obligatory greeting is out of the way, here’s another: Happy Thanksgiving!  I hope that, for whatever struggles you are currently enduring, you are able to find a way to be grateful for all that you do have.

The holidays can be a stressful time, particularly for those who suffer from mental health issues.  This interesting article from Healthline notes two very accurate reasons for depression during this time period:

  • Social isolation, particularly during the holiday season, and particular if you actually don’t have the opportunity to spend time with friends and family.
  • Grieving.  The holidays can be very difficult for those who have lost someone, even more so if that death is a recent one.  After all, since the holidays are usually associated with spending time with people you love.  As such, the loss of those who you are close with can make the pain of the holidays feel virtually unbearable.

This story from a 2014 Huffington Post article adds some additional insight:

  • People tend to set unrealistic expectations for their social interaction and what they can accomplish during the Holidays (pro-tip: You aren’t Martha Stewart).
  • People try to do too much.
  • “Comparing your insides to someone else’s outsides,” particularly thanks to social media (YES this a thousand times!).

That being said, I may as well take this opportunity to dispel a suicide-related myth: Contrary to popular belief, suicides do not increase during the holidays.  In fact, they actually decrease.

On a personal level, I was always relatively okay during the holidaus, even at my most depressed points, though there were some rough patches.  Thanksgiving and Christmas were always nice, but, randomly, what always got me was the 4th of July.  It’s supposed to be a fun, relaxed holiday, but somehow, I always spent it alone, or frequently with people who I didn’t really like and made me feel alone.  There’s something about holidays that can just make you feel like a loser…like, you are supposed to be having fun and aren’t.  Isn’t that the worst?

So, how do you survive?  Some thoughts:

  • First and foremost, don’t even think about talking about Donald Trump.
  • Stay.  The.  Hell.  Off.  Of.  Facebook.  Seriously.  As I’ve discussed previously, social media can be really bad for your mental health, and this can be particularly true for moments when you are already vulnerable from a mental health perspective.  For your own sanity, limit your time on social media.  It will be way, way too easy to, as the note above says, “compare your insides to someone else’s outsides.”
  • It’s Thanksgiving.  Try to be as thankful as you can be.  That’s easier said, than done, of course.  But, to the extent that you are able, think about it.  If you are reading this blog, you have internet access, which is better than the more than three billion people who don’t have internet access. That likely means you live in the developed world, which means you have access to food, clean drinking water, modern sanitation systems and decent medical care.  It’s not much, but try to remember – odds are, you have it better than billions of people across the planet.  That has to count for something.  Challenge yourself to shift your perspective; yeah, you have the racist uncle sitting two seats down, and he’s had one to many Coors, but odds are still better you have it better than billions.
  • Remember – if you are able – actually relax!  The holidays were designed for unwinding.  Need a break?  Take it.  The damn turkey can wait.  You’re more important.
  • If you are someone (like me) who values routine, don’t let the holidays knock you off of it.  I’m still going to the gym.  I’m still gonna go to sleep and wake up at my usual times.  I’d recommend the same for anyone else.

This isn’t much – and it may be woefully inadequate for what you are facing, that I completely understand – but hopefully these little tips can help make your holiday a little better.

Happy holidays, readers!  I am thankful for many things in my life, and that certainly includes those of you who keep coming back to read what I have to say.  I hope you have a great holiday season, and a very happy Thanksgiving!

You probably need an escape

The more I think about it, the more convinced I’ve become of this idea: If I didn’t have an escape, I’d go absolutely, positively out of my mind.

As I’ve said before, I’m an elected official. It’s not a low-stress job.  No matter what anyone tells you, by and large, it’s a pretty grueling gig: Long hours, lots of stress, important decisions, and often a sense of helplessness that is not conducive to people with depression.  Now, just to be clear: I love it.  It gives me a change to change lives and advocate for the issues that I care about.  I knew what I was getting into when I got this job, and I am not complaining, because this job is absolutely amazing.

But, loving a job and having it drive you nuts at the same time can certainly occur at the same time, and my experiences operates as proof.

So, going back to the challenges of my job: I know I’m not alone.  No matter who you are, and no matter what you do, odds are decent that you get stressed out at work, life or with your family.  For people who are more likely to get depressed or anxious, this goes double, and we know that chronic stress can lead to depression.

And that, of course, is why you need an escape.

It doesn’t have to be a literal, physical escape.  For physical, emotional, job-related or financial reasons, a physical escape is often impossible.  Between my family, job and trying to pay off student loans, a regular vacation isn’t an option for me, and I suspect this is the case for the vast majority of you as well.

So, that brings me to my central question: What is your escape?  Where can you go to lose yourself, even if it’s only for a few hours?

Personally, I have two answers to that question.  The first is the one that sort of inspired me to create this blog in the first place: My writing.  I have found tremendous peace in my writing, and a sense of purpose as well.  As I’ve noted before, I have a Young Adult Dystopian thriller coming out, one which features a main character that also battles depression and anxiety.  At moments where my job feels fruitless, I can find solace and inspiration in the idea that this book can potentially do the same things I seek to do every day in public policy: Improve people’s lives.

Second, my not so guilty pleasure: Video games.  We just bought a Switch and I have been obsessed with Mario Odyssey.  I also just, finally, downloaded Civilization VI and am intrigued, to say the least.

Video games, of course, are easier than writing, which requires more work but a bigger payoff.

Anyway, my main point is this: You need an escape.  A mental place where you can go – a hobby where you can lose yourself and hit that perfect state of flow – if only to recharge.  Remember, an escape isn’t really an escape.  The word “reprieve” may make more sense here – or perhaps “recharge.”  Make sure you can find a place that you can go and get your bearings again.  It’s an invaluable part of self-care.

What anti-stigma really means

Call this one a brilliant thought that I had in the shower the other day.

There are plenty of anti-stigma campaigns related to mental health.  In many cases, the goal of these campaigns is simple, noble and necessary: to defeat “mental health challenges in the workplace and at home.”  This is vitally important work.

There’s good news related to that though.  In many areas, anti-stigma campaigns have already done their job.  For example, a poll taken in my home state of Pennsylvania (March 2017) shows high levels of comfort in terms of working with someone with a mental illness, a vast improvement over previous levels.  While there is still a long way to go, this poll shows significant movement in the area of mental illness.

I was thinking about this poll the other day, and it had me thinking: What does anti-stigma really mean?  Obviously we need to continue to work on critical areas like discrimination and access to healthcare, but I’d argue there’s more than that.

My argument is this: The most powerful sense of stigma is self-stigma.

Consider this 2012 article, which describes self-stigma as when “patients agree with and internalize social stereotypes,” resulting in:

•Patients often think that their illness is a sign of character weakness or incompetence.
•Patients develop feelings of low self-esteem and become less willing to seek or adhere to treatment.
• Patients anticipate that they will be discriminated against, and to protect themselves they limit their social interactions and fail to pursue work and housing opportunities.

As a result, patients find themselves less willing to seek treatment and social support, leading to lower rates of recovery.

This realization has had me rethinking how I approach the notion of anti-stigma campaigns.  Of course they should be focused on ensuring that all of society views people with mental illness not as sick freaks who are weak, but as real people suffering from real disorders that can be treated like any physical illness.  I want to push society to a place where all of us – those with mental illness and those without – view people who are suffering from a mental illness the same way that someone views a cancer patient.  No one who suffers from a mental illness should do so in fear, shame or silence.  They should talk about their therapy appointments the same way a cancer patient discusses chemo or someone with a broken leg discusses physical therapy.

I suppose, then, that what I am saying is this: Anti-stigma campaigns shouldn’t just address societal stigma.  They should address self-stigma as well.

As always, I welcome your thoughts – am I onto something here?  More importantly, have you found any anti-stigma campaigns that fulfill what I am describing?  Let me know what in the comments!

The importance of telling your story

This is a bit of a different entry: Partially standard, but also partially self-promotional.  Fair warning!

As I’ve discussed before, I made a very conscious decision, about three years ago, to tell my story about my experiences with anxiety and depression.  I made this decision because I thought it was important to put a face to these two largely misunderstood and under-discussed disorders, and because I realized that doing so would help fight the stigma that still surrounds both of these illnesses.  A good friend of mine also told me that going public would change my career in a very dramatic way – he was completely right, in ways that I totally failed to anticipate.

Three years later, this public conversation has evolved into something more.  I’ve always enjoyed writing, but had basically given up the art of writing fiction.  That changed around 2015, when, during one of my down periods, I decided to try it again, remembering the joy and therapeutic value I got from it.  Reading Fan Girl by Rainbow Rowell at around the same time certainly helped remind me!

That, in essence, was the start of Redemption, my fiction book that will be premiering in the first half of 2017.  I’ll have more to say as the book gets closer to release.  The basic plot is this: A group of young adults find themselves transported onto a spaceship, and they have to save the world. What makes this one a bit different is the main character, who suffers from anxiety and depression. Sounds familiar, right?

If you are interested, I discuss the book, my own battles and the importance of telling your story in this podcast with my friend Kim Plyler of Sahl Communications.

Obviously I wrote this book to tell a story, and I think it’s an important one: Depression and anxiety are real, they are treatable, but they don’t have to stop you from doing important things and living/enjoying your life.  I discuss all that and more in the podcast, and I hope it’s something you can listen to!

What recovery means

People who have recovered from addictions to alcohol and drugs are often very, very cautious with how they describe their recovery, and that’s for good reason: Relapses are, tragically, all too frequent.

It didn’t dawn on me until much, much later in my life that the same applies for people living with depression.

First, a look at some broad facts: According to one study, ” at least 50% of those who recover from a first episode of depression having one or more additional episodes in their lifetime, and approximately 80% of those with a history of two episodes having another recurrence.”

In other words, sadly, the more depressive episodes you have, the more likely you are to have another one in the future.

Making this personal: The worst depressive episode I’ve had in my life, and the most extended, was my freshman year of college.  Therapy and medication helped me learn to live again, but I had a pretty hard-core relapse my senior year, and then another one a little after grad school.  Periodic ups and downs followed, but I’d say those were the three worst “episodes” of my life, with the most dehabilitating consequences.  As I got older, the intensity of these episodes began to wane, as I became better at recognizing depression for what it was, coping with it’s symptoms and seeking additional help as appropriate.

That’s not to say they went away.  They didn’t.

I’m bringing this up to make a point: Recovery is not an end state.  It’s not a destination.  For most, it’s a journey.  For some, they’re lucky: One episode of mental illness, one bout with addiction, and they are done.  You lucky, lucky sons of…sigh, anyway….

For most who have ever suffered – depression, anxiety, addiction, whatever – a relapse could always be just around the corner.  This means that you can never let your guard down, because you’re never really, truly “done” with mental illness.

Is this a bad thing?  Well, I’d be a heck of a lot happier if I never had to worry about this again.  But the specific reason I am bringing this up is to remind people who suffer that recover is not the end state – it’s a perpetual one – and that relapses are okay.  They are part of the disease with which you suffer and not endemic of any internal weakness.  Recurrences shouldn’t be dealt with via self-flagellation and scolding – they should be treated as a natural flare up of a disorder that can be dehabilitating without treatment.  Don’t yell at yourself.  Don’t hate yourself.  And don’t think that your any recovery must be permanent or you are failing.

Recovery is a journey.  Not a destination.

Reimagining Electroconvulsive Therapy

I had the pleasure of attending an event earlier this week in which another local elected official personally discussed his own experiences with anxiety, all in the name of an anti-stigma campaign by our local chapter of the National Alliance for Mental Illness.  One of the speakers at the press conference was a psychiatrist who discussed stigma surrounding mental illness, but he got a little bit more specific: He discussed ECT, or Electroconvulsive Therapy.

Electroconvulsive Therapy was once one of the cruelest treatments for mental illness imaginable.  It’s common use in American began in the 1950s and was largely brought into public view by the film One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.  It became a controversial treatment option, and with good reason: Patients were often treated against their will and with dangerously high doses.

That being said, that’s no longer the case.  Indeed, to say that the therapy has changed is an understatement.  From the Mayo Clinic:

Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is a procedure, done under general anesthesia, in which small electric currents are passed through the brain, intentionally triggering a brief seizure. ECT seems to cause changes in brain chemistry that can quickly reverse symptoms of certain mental illnesses.

The article goes on to note that ECT is used when other treatment – medication and therapy – is less effective.

Is it still risky?  Sure, like any therapy, there is the potential for side effects, including confusion, memory loss and other complications.  That sounds bad, but most of those side effects are also temporary.  That, and let’s be honest: Can you find an effective drug without potentially problematic side effects at this point?  Nope.

How effective is ECT?  Well, according to this article from Psychiatric Times, very: 60-90% of people have a positive response.

If you’ve ever read this blog before, you know that the basic gist of my entire mental health crusade is anti-stigma oriented.  It didn’t really hit me until the press conference I attended how that stigma remains powerful when it comes to specific treatment modalities.  Multiple studies proved that ECT is an effective way of treating depression and mania that is otherwise treatment resistant, but older forms of its operation have convinced many people that it’s a terrifying and dangerous way of trying to rid yourself of depression.  Science has evolved to the point that this is no longer the case, and it is vitally important that we recognize this truth.

How to explain mental illness to your kids

Like the vast majority of parents, my children are the light of my lives.  My son, Auron, is six; my daughter, Ayla is four, turning five in November.  I won’t sit here and wax on and on about how much I love them – I don’t have that kind of time, and you probably don’t have that level of interest.  But, for the sake of this blog entry, please understand that they are one of my main reasons for living, my biggest source of joy and a constant fountain of entertainment, surprise and hilariousness.

So, I suspect many parents can sympathize: Having children when you have depression can add innumerable guilt and sadness to an already debilitating disorder.

When I think about depression in relation to my kids, I think of it from two angles.  First is how it will likely one day affect them.  There is no question that mental illness has a strong genetic component.  Also, as much as it pains me to admit it and as hard as I try to make it otherwise, I suspect that both of my kids will learn some of my behavior and internalize it. Even more unfortunate is that a major source of childhood trauma is having a parent with a mental health disorder, and an expanding body of research has shown that these Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs, can have significant and detrimental effects on the life of a child.

One of the symptoms of depression is guilt, and lemme tell you, this entry is not helping.

Second is how my disorder affects their lives.  As much as I hate to admit it, depression and anxiety have affected my parenting skills.  There’s no doubt that there have been times where it has affected my mood, made me snappier or less willing to do things.  Kids can tell when you are worried or down.  They are like little sponges.  They just know when things are off, and they are far, far more intuitive than most people realize.

So, all of this leads me to the critical question of today’s blog entry: How do you talk to your kids about depression?

Obviously, the answer to this question depends on the age of your child.  The first time it ever came up for me was when my son was about four and happened to walk into the bathroom when I was taking my medication:

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“Taking my pills, buddy.”

“Oh.”  Pause.  “Are you sick?”

Me, internally: Crap.  

Followed by: “Well, Auron, you know how people sometimes get really sad?  Or really scared?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Daddy sometimes gets really scared or sad for no reason.  These pills help make sure I don’t get too scared or too sad, and they make it easier for me to have a good day.”

“Oh.  I’m gonna go watch Bubble Guppies.”

At that age, I think that was a pretty good way to describe it: Simply, and by relating it to something they already understood.  As my kids have gotten older, I’ve expanded that conversation to talking about it to a stigma perspective.  Whenever we are trying to illustrate something that we think is silly (All boys are better than girls at sports by default, for example), we scream “THAT’S NONSENSE!”  I’ve used that frame to describe how some people don’t think it’s okay to get sad, or get scared, and to try to tell the kids that anyone who is sad or scared should see a Doctor, just like if they had a broken arm.  Do they understand it?  I think so.  I hope so, anyway!

As they get older, it is my hope that the way I have dealt with my mental illness – openly and honestly – will help them recognize the symptoms of it within themselves.  I never want my kids to think that whatever circumstances they may be born with are completely out of their control – I want them to know that they do have the ability to deal with whatever challenges they may face.

I cannot control the mental illness that I have anymore than I can control the weather.  But, just like dealing with a rainy day, I can bring an umbrella.  I can take care of myself by ensuring that I see my therapist when necessary, that I take my daily medication, that I recognize my mistakes and try to learn from them, and by practicing good coping skills.  In that way, I hope I can teach my kids a very critical lesson: You cannot always control the hand that you are dealt, but you can control how to react to it.

As always, I welcome your comments.  How have you dealt with your own mental illness when it comes to your kids?  What have you said – and what have you left unsaid?  Let us know below!

4 ways to stop an anxiety attack

I’ve had a particularly interesting internal debate – well, interesting to me, anyway – about which is worse, depression or anxiety.  I’ve repeatedly come to the conclusion that, at least with the way I have both, I’d rather have depression than anxiety.  Don’t get me wrong – both suck something fierce.  That being said, with depression, if it isn’t too severe, you can still function.  Anxiety, and particularly anxiety attacks makes doing basic tasks next to impossible.

College was the worst for me in that regards.  I would have periodic anxiety attacks, usually brought on by a particular situation.  I developed fears of set events – travelling in buses or planes, for example – that caused me to avoid travelling in general.  Therapy and medication helped get me through, but I still remember how traumatic those events were.  I remember not being able to travel on a bus with my coworkers because I was so, so scared of having an anxiety attack.  Or having a major one while traveling for work that almost caused me to run off of a plane.

Learning how to control my anxiety is what got me through those dark times, and learning how to stop an anxiety attack before it started – or at least how to stop one once it was underway – was immeasurably helpful.  Learning these skills gave me the confidence that I needed to believe that I could survive the worst anxiety attack, and that taught me how to live again.

With that, here’s a few techniques that I’ve successfully used in order to try and head off an anxiety attack before it started, and cool one down when it began.

Oh, and standard disclaimer: I’m not a Doctor or professional. I’m a guy with a blog.  Don’t let my random thoughts stop you from seeking professional, medical advice!

1) Pick a number.  Count to seven.  And keep going.  One of the things I found when I was at my worst was that the brain desperately needed a distraction.  I believe it was a therapist who first made this suggestion to me: Pick a task and run with it.  Pick a random number – 136.  Add 7.  And keep going.  This will, hopefully, distract your brain enough to stop the anxiety attack in its tracks.

2) Breathing Exercises.  There are a ton of variations on this, and there is also ample evidence that anxiety and depression can be ameliorated in the long run with proper breathing techniques.  When I was younger, I found this to be particularly effective, particularly when I first started suffering from anxiety attacks.  I would literally sit there in 8th grade homeroom and say to myself, “There is nothing else but your breath.  Take a deep breath.  Fill your chest as much as possible.  In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

For a more formal exercise, click here.

3) Pick an object.  Any object.  This is related to the first technique.  Getting yourself out of an anxiety attack often means changing the way that you are thinking in order to stop yourself from cycling through panic.  To that end, find an object.  It can be simple or complex.  Stare at that object.  Get lost in it’s texture and colors.  How does it look?  What does it do?  Is it moving?  What are it’s colors?  Rough or smooth? Ask yourself simple questions, and then allow those questions to become more complex.  Remember, the goal here is to get your mind to concentrate on anything other than the panic.

For me, when I was at my worst, the challenge with this was trying to get myself to concentrate on an object, because starting too long at something could make me feel worse.  If that’s the case for you, no problem!  If one object doesn’t work, try picking a different one.  Or, allow yourself to look away for a moment before coming back to the object in question, and starting the cycle over.

4) Call someone.  I found that conversations with others – people I trusted, who wouldn’t judge – could be helpful.  If you allow yourself to get lost in your own mind, you can get yourself into trouble.  To that end, talk to someone you trust and love.  Talk about the anxiety attack.  Talk about the weather.  Do whatever works for you, but just make sure that you can get out of your own head.

As always, these are just suggestions, just my thoughts.  Have better ones?  Let us know in the comments!

4 Video Games that portray mental illness

As I’ve discussed before, I’m a video game nerd.  Hardcore.  And, as someone who is a bit obsessed with eradicating stigma that is related to mental illness, I remain fascinated by public portrayal of depression, anxiety and addiction.

Video games, I believe, are art.  I define art as the ability to make a profound emotional impact on a person.  As such, the portrayal of mental illness in video games – and indeed, humanity – continue to fascinate me, and make me think.  The good news is this: Video games can often describe the human condition in a more thoughtful and complete than many movies and television shows.  That line of thinking inspired this blog entry: How does video games portray mental illness?  How accurate is that portrayal?

Oh, and spoilers below.

Life is Strange: Before the Storm

LifeIsStrange

This one is the prequel to Life is Strange, one of my favorite games, made by Square Enix.  It is a walking simulator  in which you follow Chloe, the main character, as she battles her way through high school and falls in love with Rachel, the previously unseen character who plays a pivotal role in Life is Strange.  

I firmly believe that Chloe is suffering through some major depression symptoms.  Her father has died a few years before and her mother is dating a man who she openly despises and fights with; both of these experiences can lead to depression.  She drinks and does drugs often enough to have a regular dealer to whom she owes money. Her best friend is gone, and not communicating with her at all.  She comes across as angsty, but it’s more than that.  Her quotes, thoughts and actions are often self-destructive and reflect a young woman in pain.

To me, this is more than just a teen being a teen.  She’s miserable, she fights with her mom and her mom’s boyfriend, her family has financial issues, and she is clearly discovering her sexuality.  These are all symptoms that lead my to believe that Chloe is suffering from depression.

What makes the game more relatable is the game’s treatment of Chloe.  In the start of episode one, she is petulant and miserable – not the greatest portrayal.  However, as the game evolves, she becomes a more sympathetic character, and a multi-layered one at that.  You see her hopes, dreams and ability to connect with others.  And, by hearing her thoughts, you can hear all of the truly heartbreaking things she is thinking and saying to herself, about herself.

You intrinsically want Chloe to be better, to have healthier thought patterns and make better decisions.  And, in that sense, I hope that the game can give people a better idea of what it is like to live a life under duress, as Chloe clearly does.

A Night In The Woods

NightInTheWoods

Disclosure: I’m only part way through this one

A Night In The Woods is a platformer. You play as Mae, who has just dropped out of college and returned home.  I’m not very far along this one, but where I’ve gotten to, strange things are happening in her hometown after she reunites with her friends.

The college drop-out part is interesting.  Again, I’m not far in, but thus far, Mae has refused to talk about what happened to her in college, aside from saying that college “didn’t work out” or some variation of that phrase.  She reconnects with old friends, who all have their own battles:

Mae, the protagonist, experiences depression and anxiety, which sometimes create dissociative states during which she becomes completely disconnected from reality. It is implied, though never directly stated, that Gregg has bipolar disorder. His poor impulse control gets him into bad situations, and at times these factors impact his feelings of self worth. Bea and Angus both struggle with the consequences of abusive pasts and their relationships with their families.

As has been noted by Kotaku, the game’s creator’s have both discussed their own battles with mental illness:

The game’s creators have spoken candidly in the past about their own mental health struggles. Scott Benson, who animated and illustrated the game, has type two bipolar disorder. Programmer Alec Holowka runs the Everybody’s Fucked Up podcast, which aims to break through stigma around mental illnesses by interviewing people who have experienced them. (Bethany Hockenberry, the writer of the game, was unable to meet with Kotaku for an interview.)

This game is different than the standard platformer in a few ways, but chief among them is that it allows users to make dialogue choices that affect the game.  This puts you in the driver seat and gives you the perspective of Mae, thus ensuring that you get a first-hand look at what it is like to live a life with depression.

As I said, I’m only a little way into this one, but I’m very curious to learn more.

Please Knock On My Door

Disclosure: I haven’t played this one.

PleaseKnock

This is the portion of the blog entry where the games start getting a touch more obvious.  In Please Knock On My Door:

Please Knock on My Door is a simple game about a person living with depression. The protagonist, a blocky, inky-black character, lives a fairly standard life: Wake up, go to work, come home, repeat. The days are punctuated with mundane tasks like making a sandwich or showering, but each one carries extra weight as it drains — or bolsters — the main character’s mental fortitude.

The game’s art style is simple and stripped down, forcing players to experience the emotions of the game, not be overwhelmed by its graphics, and the focus on simple decisions and how draining they can be gives players the experience of depression, and the added knowledge that each decision made can weigh on a normal human being.  In that sense, it seems to concentrate on giving players the sense of just what a burden living with depression can be.

Depression Quest

Depression Quest

Disclosure: I haven’t played this one either.

Gee, I wonder what this game is about?  From the website:

Depression Quest is an interactive fiction game where you play as someone living with depression. You are given a series of everyday life events and have to attempt to manage your illness, relationships, job, and possible treatment. This game aims to show other sufferers of depression that they are not alone in their feelings, and to illustrate to people who may not understand the illness the depths of what it can do to people.

The game was designed by Zoe Quinn, who faced a slew of death threats for her efforts.  Charming.

As for the game itself: You live the life of someone with depression, making what are relatively mundane decisions about living life.  That being said, in the game, happier decisions are often grayed out, forcing the player to experience life as through someone with depression.  The game is told through a series of text decisions.  In that sense, again, it tries to get the user to experience depression from a first-person perspective.

These are just four, and there are certainly many more.  Any other games you’d like to share?  Let us know in the comments below!