Tony Giordano - Its Not All In Your Head: Unearthing the Deep Roots of Depression

Special thanks go to three people who graciously took the time to read earlier versions of this book and provide invaluable feedback and suggestions: Bruce E. Levine, PhD, a clinical psychologist and author of several books and articles on mental illness; David A. Karp, PhD, professor of sociology at Boston College and author of numerous scholarly articles and books; and Charles L. Whitfield, M.D., a physician, psychotherapist and author of a number of well-known books on mental illness and recovery.

Id also like to acknowledge several others who were essential in bringing this book to fruition. My agent Krista Goering of The Krista Goering Literary Agency has patiently guided this novice author through the daunting process of getting published. John Hunt of O-Books was also indispensable in answering my many questions and helping me through the nuts and bolts of bringing a book to market. I also want to express my gratitude to Mary Quirk, M.A., L.P.C., N.C.C., a counselor who showed me extraordinary empathy, a rare willingness to listen to my problems, and the know-how to find solutions.

In particular, I have to extend my deepest appreciation to my wife Joanne for her patience and support in the two-plus years when I often hid in the basement office to work on this book. Writing a book seems to require that you hurriedly get fleeting ideas down on paper before you can share them with anyone, lest you forget a key point. So, I was especially isolated and unavailable during this time.

Finally, grateful acknowledgement is given to the following for permission to reprint passages:

Charles Whitfields passages from his book Healing the Child Within, 1987 Charles Whitfield, Health Communications, Deerfield Beach, FL.

Charles Whitfields passages from his book The Truth About Depression, 2003 Charles Whitfield, Health Communications, Deerfield Beach, FL.

Bruce Levines passages from his book Surviving Americas Depression Epidemic, 2007 Bruce Levine, Chelsea Green, White River Junction, Vermont.

David Karps passages from his book Speaking of Sadness, 1996 David Karp, by permission of Oxford University Press, Inc., New York.

Alice Millers passages from her book The Truth Will Set You Free, 2001 Alice Miller, Anchor Books, New York.

Wayne Kritsbergs passage from his book The Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome, 1988 Wayne Kritsberg, Bantam Books, New York.

Erich Fromms passages from his book Man for Himself, 1947 Erich Fromm, Fawcett Premier Books, New York. By permission of The Fromm Estate.

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Our behavior is a function of our experience. We act according

to the way we see things.

If our experience is destroyed, our behavior will be destructive.

If our experience is destroyed, we have lost our own selves.

R.D. Laing, The Politics of Experience

From the time I first read it as an undergraduate more than 30 years ago, I have remembered this passage from the controversial book by psychiatrist and author R.D. Laing. It made an immediate impact, but I wasnt sure why. Ive had occasion to think about it a number of times over the years. Its such a succinct yet powerful statement of psychological damage and maladaptive behavior, as its now known. Little did I know at the time how well it would apply to me, although it appears I had a suspicion it might. The words resonated in some inexplicable way.

As I sat down to start writing this book and looked back at how I arrived at this point in my life, the issue that most commanded my attention was not depression, but how Ive often felt like an actor in a play. Thinking about this now, it seems so strange. Ive often felt like I was playing a part, only I didnt exactly know the script or my precise rolewhat part I was supposed to play. I was never sure about that. Everything has seemed so unreal. Life didnt seem real, I didnt feel real.I asked myself, was it actually happening? Is this real life? Or was it some kind of school exercise or rehearsal or simulation? I thought of games I had played as a child and asked, does this count? Can I have another chance and do it differently? Why do I feel separated from everything much of the time? Why am I disconnected?

These were conversations routinely going on in my head as I went about my business. I would actually debate different points of view about this to myself. Ive done this kind of thing for so long that it was normal to me; I had no idea these were abnormal thoughts that might be symptomatic of a potentially crippling disorder, or a complex of related disorders to be more precise. I surmise that I must have talked to myself many, many more times than Ive talked to other people.

Even though there was a multitude of signs and clues throughout my early life, I never imagined that I would someday be personally afflicted by depression. This illness seemed totally foreign to me, irrelevant, something that maybe weak, delicate people have to worry about. Not someone like me. And certainly not a man!Of course, I knew virtually nothing about depression, nor about the warning signs. I did have an uncomfortable feeling that I was too often infected with unhealthy levels of apprehension and nervous distractions of various kinds. But I had no idea this was anything approaching abnormal, whatever that means. Theres no way I could know as a youngster or adolescent what other people were feeling and what constitutes normal.

When I was first told in middle age that I suffered from clinical depression, my analytical and investigative tendencies almost immediately had me searching for the roots of this strange, unexpected disorder. I say almost immediately because my very first thought was the usual denial that it could happen to me. I thought about a lot of possible causes, but I had no idea what could have produced this cursed condition. It seemed to come out of nowhere. One thing did stand out, however, after some reflection, something that as an adult I could now see was clearly abnormal, dysfunctional and unhealthy. It was my fathers drinking, which was often followed by uncontrollable rages that as a young boy I couldnt begin to understand or deal with. Is it possible that a fathers habitual alcoholic rages could be related to a sons mood disorder in later life? Decades later?

I wondered, what could the connection be? How could the one lead to the other?

Its widely known that alcoholic parents often have children who develop drinking problems or other addictions, which I could understand. But I wasnt aware of any connection with depression, nor could I begin to understand what connection there could be. When I thought about my unhealthy symptoms, I began to realize theyve been with me most of my life-nervousness, uncertainty, continual mental distraction, a sense that everything was unreal, and of course, that dark cloud that I knew had to be just around the corner. Other than the latter symptom, how could these kinds of symptoms connect to depression? I thought that if I had been affected by my fathers drinking, I would have become an alcoholic myself, and maybe would have even led a life of crime and drug addiction and all those other things you associate with alcoholism. But I was far from anything like that. No, I was a solid, sensible, strait-laced person who excelled as a student, enjoyed a respectable career, and had a wonderful home and family.