Download [PDF] Books The Noonday Demon (PDF, ePub, Mobi) by Andrew The Epistle to the Romans by Karl Barth Read Books, Ebooks, Pdf, Reading. Editorial Reviews. portal7.info Review. Sometimes, the legacy of depression includes a wisdom beyond one's years, a depth of passion unexperienced by. The Noonday Demon PDF namjoon has read The Noonday Demon (한낮의 우울) by Andrew Solomon, if you want to read this book (download.
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The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression by Andrew Solomon (excerpt) - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. Winner of . Read here portal7.info?book= Read [PDF] Download The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression Full. PDF - The Noonday Demon. The Noonday Demon examines depression in personal, cultural, and scientific terms. Drawing on his own struggles with the illness.
Depression II. Breakdowns III. Treatments IV. Alternatives V. Populations V I. Addiction VII. Suicide VIII.
The Oprah Magazine. Albert J. Rubey L. New York Times Notable Books: Chinese Taiwan: Chinese PRC: Lisbeth W. Gyldendal, Demonen van de Middag: Een Persoonlijke Geschiedenis van Depressie Translator: Tinke Davids. Anthos, Masennuksen Atlas Translator: Arto Schroderus.
Tammi, Claudine Richetin. Albin Michel, Saturns Schatten: Die dunklen Welten der Depression Translator: Fischer Taschenbuch, , Read an excerpt. Tel Aviv: Il Demone del Mezzogiorno: La Storia, la Scienza, le Cure Translator: Adria Tissoni. Mondadori, Utsu no Kaibogaku Translator: Depresjonens demoner original title: En Bok om Depresjon Translator: Heidi Grinde. Gyldendal, ; Forlaget Press, Tidsskrift for Den norske legeforening Levevei. Anatomia Depresji: Jolanta Bartosik.
Zysk i S-ka, Portuguese Brazil, edition: M y experience conforms to that of others w h o have written i n this field. Writing on depression is painful, sad, lonely, and stressful. Nonetheless, the idea that I was doing something that might be useful to others was uplifting; and m y increased knowledge has been useful to me. I hope it w i l l be clear that the primary pleasure of this book is a literary pleasure of communication rather than the therapeutic release of self-expression.
I began b y w r i t i n g about m y depression; then about the similar depression of others; then about the different depression of others; and finally about depression i n completely other contexts. I have included three stories from outside the first w o r l d i n this book. T h e narratives of m y encounters w i t h people i n Cambodia, Senegal, and Greenland are provided i n an attempt to counterbalance some of the culturally specific ideas of depression that have circumscribed many studies in the area.
A N o t e on M e t h o d trips into unknown places were adventures tinged w i t h a certain exoticism, and I have not suppressed the fairy-tale quality of those encounters. Depression, under various names and i n various guises, is and has always been ubiquitous for biochemical and social reasons. T h i s book strives to capture the extent of depression's temporal and geographical reach.
If it sometimes seems that depression is the private affliction of the modern Western middle classes, that is because it is i n this community that we are suddenly acquiring new sophistication to recognize depression, to name it, to treat it, and to accept itand not because we have any special rights to the complaint itself. N o book can span the reach of human suffering, but I hope that b y indicating that reach, I w i l l help to liberate some men and women who suffer from depression.
We can never eliminate all unhappiness, and alleviating depression does not assure happiness, but I hope the knowledge contained i n this book w i l l help to eliminate some pain for some people. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair. W h e n it comes, it degrades one's self and ultimately eclipses the capacity to give or receive affection.
It is the aloneness w i t h i n us made manifest, and it destroys not only connection to others but also the ability to be peacefully alone w i t h oneself.
Love, though it is no prophylactic against depression, is what cushions the m i n d and protects it from itself. Medications and psychotherapy can renew that protection, making it easier to love and be loved, and that is w h y they work.
In good spirits, some love themselves and some love others and some love work and some love G o d: Love forsakes us from time to time, and we forsake love. In depression, the meaninglessness of every enterprise and every emotion, the meaninglessness of life itself, becomes self-evident.
T h e only feeling left i n this loveless state is insignificance. Life is fraught w i t h sorrows: Pain is the first experience of world-helplessness, and it never leaves us. We are angry about being ripped from the comfortable womb, and as soon as that anger fades, distress comes to take its place. Even those people whose faith promises them that this w i l l all be different i n the next world cannot help experiencing anguish i n this one; Christ himself was the man of sorrows.
We live, however, i n a time of increasing palliatives; it is easier than ever to decide what to feel and what not to feel. There is less and less unpleasantness that is unavoidable i n life, for those w i t h the means to avoid. But despite the enthusiastic claims of pharmaceutical science, depression cannot be wiped out so long as we are creatures conscious of.
It can at best be containedand containing is all that current treatments for depression aim to do. H i g h l y politicized rhetoric has blurred the distinction between depression and its consequencesthe distinction between how you feel and how y o u act in response.
T h i s is i n part a social and medical phenomenon, but it is also the result of linguistic vagary attached to emotional vagary. Perhaps depression can best be described as emotional pain that forces itself on us against our will, and then breaks free of its externals.
Depression is not just a lot of pain; but too m u c h pain can compost itself into depression. G r i e f is depression in proportion to circumstance; depression is grief out of proportion to circumstance. It is tumbleweed distress that thrives on thin air, growing despite its detachment from the nourishing earth. It can be described only in metaphor and allegory. Saint A n t h o n y i n the desert, asked how he could differentiate between angels who came to h i m humble and devils who came i n rich disguise, said y o u could tell by how y o u felt after they had departed.
W h e n an angel left you, y o u felt strengthened by his presence; when a devil left, you felt horror. Grief is a humble angel who leaves y o u with strong, clear thoughts and a sense of your o w n depth. Depression is a demon who leaves y o u appalled. Depression has been roughly divided into small mild or disthymic and large major depression. M i l d depression is a gradual and sometimes permanent thing that undermines people the way rust weakens iron.
It is too much grief at too slight a cause, pain that takes over from the other emotions and crowds them out. Such depression takes up bodily occupancy in the eyelids and i n the muscles that keep the spine erect.
It hurts your heart and lungs, making the contraction of involuntary muscles harder than it needs to be. Like physical pain that becomes chronic, it is miserable not so much because it is intolerable in the moment as because it is intolerable to have k n o w n it i n the moments gone and to look forward only to knowing it i n the moments to come. T h e present tense of m i l d depression envisages no alleviation because it feels like knowledge.
V i r g i n i a Woolf has written about this state w i t h an eerie clarity: There he saw three Greeks i n kilts; the masts of ships; idle or busy people of the lower classes strolling or stepping out briskly, or falling into groups and gesticulating w i t h their hands.
T h e i r lack of concern for him was not the cause of his gloom; but some more profound convictionit was not that he himself happened to be lonely, but that all people are. Depression tion.
Yet, heaven knows, Julia was no fool. M i l d depression, for many years simply accommodated, is increasingly subject to treatment as doctors scrabble to address its diversity. Large depression is the stuff of breakdowns. If one imagines a soul of iron that weathers w i t h grief and rusts w i t h mild depression, then major depression is the startling collapse of a whole structure. There are two models for depression: T h e dimensional posits that depression sits on a continuum w i t h sadness and represents an extreme version of something everyone has felt and known.
T h e categorical describes depression as an illness totally separate from other emotions, m u c h as a stomach virus is totally different from acid indigestion. You go along the gradual path or the sudden trigger of emotion and then you get to a place that is genuinely different.
It takes time for a rusting iron-framed building to collapse, but the rust is ceaselessly powdering the solid, thinning it, eviscerating it. T h e collapse, no matter how abrupt it may feel, is the cumulative consequence of decay. It is nonetheless a highly dramatic and visibly different event. It is a long time from the first rain to the point when rust has eaten through an iron girder. Sometimes the rusting is at such key points that the collapse seems total, but more often it is partial: Some people accumulate more emotional rust than others.
Depression starts out insipid, fogs the days into a dull color, weakens ordinary actions until their clear shapes are obscured by the effort they require, leaves y o u tired and bored and self-obsessedbut y o u can get through all that. N o t happily, perhaps, but y o u can get through. N o one has ever been able to define the collapse point that marks major depression, but when y o u get there, there's not m u c h mistaking it. Major depression is a birth and a death: Birth and death are gradual, though official documents may try to pinion natural law by creating categories such as "legally dead" and "time born.
It's true that at one stage the baby's head is here and his body not; that until the umbilical cord is severed the child is physically connected to the mother. It's true that the pensioner may The N o o n d a y D e m o n close his eyes for the last time some hours before he dies, and that there is a gap between w h e n he stops breathing and w h e n he is declared "brain-dead.
A patient may say that he has spent certain months suffering major depression, but this is a way of imposing a measurement on the immeasurable. A l l that one can really say for certain is that one has known major depression, and that one does or does not happen to be experiencing it at any given present moment.
The birth and death that constitute depression occur at once.
I returned, not long ago, to a wood i n which I had played as a child and saw an oak, a hundred years dignified, i n whose shade I used to play with m y brother. In twenty years, a huge vine had attached itself to this confident tree and had nearly smothered it. It was hard to say where the tree left off and the vine began. T h e vine had twisted itself so entirely around the scaffolding of tree branches that its leaves seemed from a distance to be the leaves of the tree; only up close could y o u see how few living oak branches were left, and how a few desperate little budding sticks of oak stuck like a row of thumbs up the massive trunk, their leaves continuing to photosynthesize i n the ignorant way of mechanical biology.
Fresh from a major depression i n which I had hardly been able to take on board the idea of other people's problems, I empathized with that tree. M y depression had grown on me as that vine had conquered the oak; it had been a sucking thing that had wrapped itself around me, ugly and more alive than I. It had had a life of its o w n that bit by bit asphyxiated all of m y life out of me. A t the worst stage of major depression, I had moods that I knew were not m y moods: When I tried to think clearly about this, I felt that m y m i n d was immured, that it couldn't expand in any direction.
I knew that the sun was rising and setting, but little of its light reached me. I felt myself sagging under what was much stronger than I; first I could not use m y ankles, and then I could not control m y knees, and then m y waist began to break under the strain, and then m y shoulders turned in, and i n the end I was compacted and fetal, depleted by this thing that was crushing me without holding me.
Its tendrils threatened to pulverize m y m i n d and m y courage and m y stomach, and crack m y bones and desiccate m y body. It went on glutting itself on me when there seemed nothing left to feed it. I was not strong enough to stop breathing. I knew then that I could never kill this vine of depression, and so all I wanted was for it to let me die. B u t it had taken from me the energy I w o u l d have needed to kill myself, and it would not kill me.
If m y trunk was rotting, this thing that fed on it was now too strong to let it fall; it had become an alternative support to what it had destroyed. In the tightest corner of m y bed, split Depression and racked by this thing no one else seemed to be able to see, I prayed to a G o d I had never entirely believed in, and I asked for deliverance. I w o u l d have been happy to die the most painful death, though I was too dumbly lethargic even to conceptualize suicide. Every second of being alive hurt me.
Because this thing had drained all fluid from me, I could not even cry. M y mouth was parched as well. I had thought that when you feel your worst your tears flood, but the very worst pain is the arid pain of total violation that comes after the tears are all used up, the pain that stops up every space through which y o u once metered the world, or the world, you.
T h i s is the presence of major depression. I have said that depression is both a birth and a death. T h e vine is what is born. T h e death is one's o w n decay, the cracking of the branches that support this misery. T h e first thing that goes is happiness. You cannot gain pleasure from anything. That's famously the cardinal symptom of major depression. But soon other emotions follow happiness into oblivion: Your m i n d is leached until you seem dim-witted even to yourself.
If your hair has always been thin, it seems thinner; if y o u have always had bad skin, it gets worse. Y o u smell sour even to yourself. Y o u lose the ability to trust anyone, to be touched, to grieve.
Eventually, y o u are simply absent from yourself. M a y b e what is present usurps what becomes absent, and maybe the absence of obfuscatory things reveals what is present. Either way, y o u are less than yourself and i n the clutches of something alien.
Too often, treatments address only half the problem: It is necessary both to cut away that extra thousand pounds of the vines and to relearn a root system and the techniques of photosynthesis. D r u g therapy hacks through the vines. You can feel it happening, how the medication seems to be poisoning the parasite so that bit by bit it withers away.
You feel the weight going, feel the way that the branches can recover m u c h of their natural bent.
U n t i l y o u have got r i d of the vine, y o u cannot think about what has been lost. But even w i t h the vine gone, y o u may still have few leaves and shallow roots, and the rebuilding of your self cannot be achieved w i t h any drugs that now exist. W i t h the weight of the vine gone, little leaves scattered along the tree skeleton become viable for essential nourishment. But this is not a good way to be. It is not a strong way to be. Rebuilding of the self in and after depression requires love, insight, work, and, most of all, time.
Diagnosis is as complex as the illness. Patients ask doctors all the time, " A m I depressed? T h e only way to find out whether you're depressed is to listen to and The Noonday Demon watch yourself, to feel your feelings and then think about them.
If you feel bad without reason most of the time, you're depressed. If y o u feel bad most of the time with reason, you Ye also depressed, though changing the reasons may be a better way forward than leaving circumstance alone and attacking the depression.
If the depression is disabling to you, then it's major. If it's only mildly distracting, it's not major. Psychiatry's bible the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, fourth edition DSM-IV ineptly defines depression as the presence of five or more on a list of nine symptoms. T h e problem w i t h the definition is that it's entirely arbitrary. There's no particular reason to qualify five symptoms as constituting depression; four symptoms are more or less depression; and five symptoms are less severe than six.
Even one symptom is unpleasant. H a v i n g slight versions of all the symptoms may be less of a problem than having severe versions of two symptoms. After enduring diagnosis, most people seek causation, despite the fact that knowing w h y y o u are sick has no immediate bearing on treating the sickness.
Illness of the mind is real illness. It can have severe effects on the body. People who show up at the offices of their doctors complaining about stomach cramps are frequently told, "Why, there's nothing wrong w i t h you except that you're depressed! If y o u show up complaining that your breathing is troubled, no one says to you, " W h y , there's nothing wrong w i t h y o u except that y o u have emphysema!
T h e y exist i n the unconscious brain, and often enough the brain is sending inappropriate messages to the stomach, so they exist there as well. T h e diagnosis whether something is rotten i n your stomach or your appendix or your brainmatters in determining treatment and is not trivial. A s organs go, the brain is quite an important one, and its malfunctions should be addressed accordingly. Chemistry is often called on to heal the rift between body and soul.
T h e relief people express when a doctor says their depression is "chemical" is predicated on a belief that there is an integral self that exists across time, and on a fictional divide between the fully occasioned sorrow and the utterly random one. T h e w o r d chemical seems to assuage the feelings of responsibility people have for the stressed-out discontent of not liking their jobs, w o r r y i n g about getting old, failing at love, hating their families.
There is a pleasant freedom from guilt that has been attached to chemical. If your brain is predisposed to depression, y o u need not blame yourself for it. Well, blame yourself or evolution, but remember that Depression blame itself can be understood as a chemical process, and that happiness, too, is chemical.
Chemistry and biology are not matters that impinge on the "real" self; depression cannot be separated from the person it affects. Treatment does not alleviate a disruption of identity, bringing y o u back to some kind of normality; it readjusts a multifarious identity, changing in some small degree who you are.
Anyone who has taken high school science classes knows that human beings are made of chemicals and that the study of those chemicals and the structures in w h i c h they are configured is called biology.
Everything that happens i n the brain has chemical manifestations and sources. If you close your eyes and think hard about polar bears, that has a chemical effect on your brain. If you stick to a policy of opposing tax breaks for capital gains, that has a chemical effect on your brain. W h e n you remember some episode from your past, you do so through the complex chemistry of memory. Childhood trauma and subsequent difficulty can alter brain chemistry.
Thousands of chemical reactions are involved in deciding to read this book, picking it up w i t h your hands, looking at the shapes of the letters on the page, extracting meaning from those shapes, and having intellectual and emotional responses to what they convey. If time lets y o u cycle out of a depression and feel better, the chemical changes are no less particular and complex than the ones that are brought about by taking antidepressants.
T h e external determines the internal as much as the internal invents the external. What is so unattractive is the idea that in addition to all other lines being blurred, the boundaries of what makes us ourselves are blurry. There is no essential self that lies pure as a vein of gold under the chaos of experience and chemistry.
A n y t h i n g can be changed, and we must understand the human organism as a sequence of selves that succumb to or choose one another. A n d yet the language of science, used in training doctors and, increasingly, in nonacademic writing and conversation, is strangely perverse. T h e cumulative results of the brain's chemical effects are not well understood.
In the edition of the standard Comprehensive Textbook of Psychiatry, for example, one finds this helpful formula: The Noonday Demon with something elseyou're doing it wrong. H o w much insight can such formulae offer? H o w can they possibly apply to something as nebulous as mood?
To what extent specific experience has conduced to a particular depression is hard to determine; nor can we explain through what chemistry a person comes to respond to external circumstance with depression; nor can we work out what makes someone essentially depressive.
Although depression is described by the popular press and the pharmaceutical industry as though it were a single-effect illness such as diabetes, it is not. Indeed, it is strikingly dissimilar to diabetes. Diabetics produce insufficient insulin, and diabetes is treated by increasing and stabilizing insulin in the bloodstream.
Depression is not the consequence of a reduced level of anything we can now measure. Raising levels of serotonin i n the brain triggers a process that eventually helps many depressed people to feel better, but that is not because they have abnormally l o w levels of serotonin. Furthermore, serotonin does not have immediate salutary effects. You could pump a gallon of serotonin into the brain of a depressed person and it would not i n the instant make h i m feel one iota better, though a long-term sustained raise i n serotonin level has some effects that ameliorate depressive symptoms.
Internal and external reality exist on a continuum. What happens and how you understand it to have happened and how y o u respond to its happening are usually linked, but no one is predictive of the others. If reality itself is often a relative thing, and the self is in a state of permanent flux, the passage from slight mood to extreme mood is a glissando. Illness, then, is an extreme state of emotion, and one might reasonably describe emotion as a m i l d form of illness.
If we all felt up and great but not delusionally manic all the time, we could get more done and might have a happier time on earth, but that idea is creepy and terrifying though, of course, if we felt up and great all the time we might forget all about creepiness and terror.
Influenza is straightforward: Depression virus i n your system, and another day you do. H I V passes from one person to another i n a definable isolated split second.
It's like trying to come up w i t h clinical parameters for hunger, w h i c h affects us all several times a day, but w h i c h i n its extreme version is a tragedy that kills its victims.
Some people need more food than others; some can function under circumstances of dire malnutrition; some grow weak rapidly and collapse i n the streets. Similarly, depression hits different people i n different ways: Willfulness and pride may allow one person to get through a depression that would fell another whose personality is more gentle and acquiescent. Depression interacts w i t h personality. Some people are brave i n the face of depression during it and afterward and some are weak.
Since personality too has a random edge and a bewildering chemistry, one can write everything off to genetics, but that is too easy. Often, the fight takes the form of seeking out the treatments that w i l l be most effective i n the battle.
It involves finding help while y o u are still strong enough to do so. It involves making the most of the life y o u have between your most severe episodes. Some horrendously symptomridden people are able to achieve real success i n life; and some people are utterly destroyed by the mildest forms of the illness. Working through a mild depression without medications has certain advantages.
It gives y o u the sense that y o u can correct your o w n chemical imbalances through the exercise of your o w n chemical will. Learning to walk across hot coals is also a triumph of the brain over what appears to be the inevitable physical chemistry of pain, and it is a thrilling way to discover the sheer power of mind.
Getting through a depression "on your own" allows you to avoid the social discomfort associated with psychiatric medications. It suggests that we are accepting ourselves as we were made, reconstructing ourselves only with our own interior mechanics and without help from the outside. Returning from distress b y gradual degrees gives sense to affliction itself. Interior mechanics, however, are difficult to commission and are frequently inadequate.
Depression frequently destroys the power of m i n d over mood. Sometimes the complex chemistry of sorrow kicks in because you've lost someone y o u love, and the chemistry of loss and love may lead to the chemistry of depression.
T h e chemistry of falling i n love can The Noonday D e m o n kick i n for obvious external reasons, or along lines that the heart can never tell the mind. If we wanted to treat this madness of emotion, we could perhaps do so. It is mad for adolescents to rage at parents who have done their best, but it is a conventional madness, uniform enough so that we tolerate it relatively unquestioningly Sometimes the same chemistry kicks i n for external reasons that are not sufficient, by mainstream standards, to explain the despair: Everyone has on occasion felt disproportionate emotion over a small matter or has felt emotions whose origin is obscure or that may have no origin at all.
Sometimes the chemistry kicks i n for no apparent external reason at all. M o s t people have had moments of inexplicable despair, often i n the middle of the night or in the early morning before the alarm clock sounds. If such feelings last ten minutes, they're a strange, quick mood.
If they last ten hours, they're a disturbing febrility, and if they last ten years, they're a crippling illness. It is too often the quality of happiness that y o u feel at every moment its fragility, while depression seems when y o u are i n it to be a state that will never pass. Even if you accept that moods change, that whatever you feel today w i l l be different tomorrow, y o u cannot relax into happiness as you can into sadness.
For me, sadness always has been and still is a more powerful feeling; and if that is not a universal experience, perhaps it is the base from which depression grows. I hated being depressed, but it was also i n depression that I learned m y o w n acreage, the full extent of m y soul.
W h e n I am happy, I feel slightly distracted by happiness, as though it fails to use some part of m y m i n d and brain that wants the exercise. Depression is something to do. M y grasp tightens and becomes acute i n moments of loss: I can see the beauty of glass objects fully at the moment when they slip from m y hand toward the floor. W h i l e life is not only about pain, the experience of pain, w h i c h is particular i n its intensity, is one of the surest signs of the life force.
Schopenhauer said, "Imagine this race transported to a Utopia where everything grows of its o w n accord and turkeys fly around readyroasted, where lovers find one another without any delay and keep one another without any difficulty: Depression on them as it is. I am persuaded that some of the broadest figures for depression are based i n reality. T h o u g h it is a mistake to confuse numbers w i t h truth, these figures tell an alarming story. According to recent research, about 3 percent of Americanssome 19 millionsuffer from chronic depression.
M o r e than 2 million of those are children. Manic-depressive illness, often called bipolar illness because the mood of its victims varies from mania to depression, afflicts about 2.
Depression as described in DSM-IV is the leading cause of disability in the U n i t e d States and abroad for persons over the age of five. Worldwide, including the developing world, depression accounts for more of the disease burden, as calculated by premature death plus healthy life-years lost to disability, than anything else but heart disease. Depression claims more years than war, cancer, and A I D S put together. Other illnesses, from alcoholism to heart disease, mask depression when it causes them; if one takes that into consideration, depression may be the biggest killer on earth.
Treatments for depression are proliferating now, but only half of Americans who have had major depression have ever sought help of any kindeven from a clergyman or a counselor. A b o u t 95 percent of that 50 percent go to primary-care physicians, who often don't know much about psychiatric complaints. A n American adult with depression would have his illness recognized only about 40 percent of the time. Nonetheless, about 28 million Americansone in every tenare now on SSRIs selective serotonin reuptake inhibitorsthe class of drugs to which Prozac belongs , and a substantial number are on other medications.
Less than half of those whose illness is recognized will get appropriate treatment. A s definitions of depression have broadened to include more and more of the general population, it has become increasingly difficult to calculate an exact mortality figure. T h e statistic traditionally given is that 15 percent of depressed people w i l l eventually commit suicide; this figure still holds for those w i t h extreme illness. Recent studies that include milder depression show that 2 to 4 percent of depressives w i l l die by their o w n hand as a direct consequence of the illness.
T h i s is still a staggering figure. Twenty years ago, about 1. A b o u t 50 percent w i l l experience some symptoms of depression. Clinical problems have increased; The Noonday Demon treatments have increased vastly more.
Diagnosis is on the up, but that does not explain the scale of this problem. Incidents of depression are increasing across the developed world, particularly in children.
Depression is occurring in younger people, making its first appearance when its victims are about twenty-six, ten years younger than a generation ago; bipolar disorder, or manic-depressive illness, sets in even earlier.
Things are getting worse.
There are few conditions at once as undertreated and as overtreated as depression. People who become totally dysfunctional are ultimately hospitalized and are likely to receive treatment, though sometimes their depression is confused w i t h the physical ailments through w h i c h it is experienced. A world of people, however, are just barely holding on and continue, despite the great revolutions i n psychiatric and psychopharmaceutical treatments, to suffer abject misery.
M o r e than half of those who do seek helpanother 25 percent of the depressed population receive no treatment.
A b o u t half of those who do receive treatment13 percent or so of the depressed populationreceive unsuitable treatment, often tranquilizers or immaterial psychotherapies. O f those who are left, halfsome 6 percent of the depressed populationreceive inadequate dosage for an inadequate length of time. So that leaves about 6 percent of the total depressed population who are getting adequate treatment. B u t many of these ultimately go off their medications, usually because of side effects.
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