I've spent the last few weeks in an acute depression. I've sought treatment and the wheels are in motion to make me happy and well again. But I've found myself in the same frame of mind as the man who has tooth ache or sea sickness. The sufferer imagines himself to be the most miserable person in the world and can see no end to the misery. Nobody else has ever been this miserable or can comprehend the depths to which the sufferer is suffering. But it's not the experience of depression that I want to discuss. Others have done that with much greater effect than I ever could.

Sally Brampton in her excellent memoir "Shoot the Damn Dog" records the observation that drugs help with the disease but only therapy can effect a cure. Well I reckon I've struggled manfully with my condition for at least twenty years and I don't intend to suffer with it for another twenty. I need to find a cure.

I've spent many weeks mulling over this defective frame of mind I call depression. I think I regarded it as a weakness in my character and would beat myself up about not being a better person, not being able to strengthen that part of me. As a result I got more depressed. This sets up a nasty little positive feedback loop in my mind and I am worse off. (I studied a topic called "Engineering Systems" for my degree and I know a bit about feedback loops, or at least enough to speak with some authority on the subject). My weeks of mulling have not been in vain because I have developed an insight into the affliction which I'm going to share.

Contrary to my thoughts on the subject, modern opinion tells us to regard depression as an illness. Generally an illnesss has symptoms which the professionals love to list and group and present their findings. Many of these end up in the World Wide Web along with helpful questionaires and case studies. Drawing on these resources I find I suffer from "atypical depression" which distinguishes itself from "melancholic depression" by the "heaviness of limbs" and "lack of energy". Overeating is also a dead give away and certainly in my case accounts for the heaviness of my limbs and my lack of energy. But one of the good things about a formally-defined illness is the availabilty of formally-defined cures. For the above administer SSRI or MAOI for six to twelve months and that's that.

So I'm thinking about this illness and part of me still wants to insist it's all down to me (which it is). This illness isn't a bacterium or a virus, it comes about because something goes wrong in the head and the inside of my head is definitely my department. I'm the only one in there and I should be able to look after it.

The trouble is I'm back to beating myself up over this self-inflicted injury I keep moaning about. Unlike sunburn, a self inflicted injury that is easy to avoid, my self inflicted injury came about because I don't know how to handle stress properly. It's like a repetitive strain injury or a hernia, both of which are "respectable" injuries brought about by hard work and not enough workplace support or training in how to deal with everyday stress.

I call them "respectable" injuries or illnesses using a tone of irony. Depression, like many other mental illnesses seems not to be regarded as a real disease or illness or injury. As in my case, outlined above.

Now I think I'm onto a good analogy here. Depression is like an RSI or hernia. Both can be treated with drugs to alleviate the painful effects but also require some training and support in place to prevent their recurrence. The same is true for depression. SSRI and MAOI can take away the pain but we require some expert help in developing strategies for keeping it away forever, which is where the therapy comes in.

Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, about which I know very little, offers the means to provide the skills to deal with the causes of depression so that like a correctly-seated keyboard user or a properly-postured lifter of boxes the recurrence of the injury will be averted for ever. At least I hope so.