AAAA, i respect that you have an opinion, but I don't think it is well-based at all and think you can't see past your own experience to understand that of others.

Re: her vaction planning, etc. That's wild speculation beyond what we know . We don't know anything about her situation other than a photo and a brief article. A person with clinical depression can easily be capable of getting away for a few days and smiling a few times.

My story:

I was a PhD student at one of the "elite" universities in the US---half-way through the degree. I was president of the graduate student body at said "elite" school. I'd had a long, successful corporate career prior to then. Then the bottom fell out.

I've been on disability for 7 years now. I've tried working minimal jobs. Failed. I had a great resume and went through 40 job interviews without getting hired; dropping my level of pay and responsibility continually I'd accept to no avail. Tried volunteering. I've been fired from volunteer positions for being so unreliable. Hard to get in and work a schedule when you don't know if you'll be able to get out of bed on a given day, but you try. And then I've failed. Repeatedly.

Lost almost every friend I've had. Lost respect from most of my family. You can only get so bad off and sui so many times before they give up and get sick of you.

I've been on 45 different meds. I've done individual therapy for 20 years, meds for 14. I'm now in a depression group, did a DBT groups 7 years ago and another group therapy following. I did a partial hospitalization program earlier this year and then a 3 month day treatment program. I've seen 3 pdocs this year (ongoing changed and hospital). Summer 2008 to winter '09 I got very, very, very bad off--as bad as ever. I saw 2 T's in Dec. '08--one once, one twice, after having sworn off T's after having been abandoned by the one I saw for 13 years. I was on the edge and they pushed me closer to it. So bad off, I flew across the country to see my old T from when I lived there who I hadn't seen in 9 years. I was at the end of my rope and needed significant help right away. I didn't have time to develop a relationship with a new T getting to know me, understand my problems, develop trust after having been burned by one I trusted for 13 years.

Right now I do phone sessions 1/week with my Old T in NY, a session every other week with a local T, my depression group meets 1/week, led by a PhD psychologist. I started a 12 step program a few months ago for an addiction I kicked 20 years ago at the behest of a friend from day treatment to get me out of the house and meet people. 6 psychologist T's this year (5 with PhD's, one close to it--has MA right now), not counting the 5 therapists of various types in the outpatient programs, 3 pdocs, 3 other MD's. Sicne 12/08.

I voluntarily went in the hospital 6 years ago for ECT. Was in 4 weeks and with some follow-up visits probably had 15 sessions.

At times in my depression. I've gone as long as 3 weeks wearing the same clothes without taking them off ever, 24/7 for 3 weeks. Not showered for 4 weeks at a time.

Spent 18 hours a day in bed for many months at a time--at multiple diff times in my history, including about a year ago. Or 16, 15, 14....

Had mood swings that are organic and med induced that have led to me alienate anyone. I get started on the things and can’t finish. I can be aggressive and assertive—I’m a high flying, intense, highly successful person when I‘m not severely depressed—yet I can barely lift a finger beyond the first step for many things. I’ve been in a dispute with my Part D company all year, have paid thousands out of pocket that they should’ve paid, but can’t quite get my act together to fully contest what they’re doing.

I’ve personally paid out of pocket—for therapy, not meds which I should recoup--$9,000 for all my treatment—THIS YEAR alone, on top of what insurance has paid. Luckily I have some money I inherited, but it’s dwindling fast. It was either spend it or die.

I’m considered to have “treatment resistent depression,” which basically means you’ve tried everything and nothing works. It makes me a candidate for the brain implant and electrode treatments they’re studying, but neither Medicare nor private insurance will pay for it.

I had a volunteering thing growing, dealing with a public policy issue that I was doing a bit well with for a little while. Out of my home, reading and research and simple writing. But my level of ability to function tanked and so I couldn’t be a part of it anymore. Plus my attitude was rotten, stemming from my diagnosed disorders and my meds. My social skills are non-existent. I spend almost all time alone, as it's been for 10 years now.

I can’t read books anymore, and haven’t been able to for years. I was in a book club in kindergarten. I was reading at a college level when I was 11. I took a speed reading pre-test for a class in high school and maxed—I could have only done worse in the class from the pre-test. My IQ is over 175 (old scale). The director of graduate admissions at Yale said "wow!" when she saw my test scorses. I had the highest test scores in my graduate department at the "elite" university I went to. In grad school, I was reading 3000-7000 pages a week—we all were. I’m scary smart in every way, but it means nothing anymore. I own about $20,000 worth of books left after grad school, half unread. I haven’t been able to get more than a few pages into one. I can barely read simple things. Stuff that I could’ve read when I was 12.

I go through periods for months where all I eat is cereal because I can’t function to make or buy anything else. Or peanut butter and jelly. I live in squalor. I have to clean my apartment about 4 times a year because the bldg owners come in now and then to check on things. The only other person who’s been in my apartment in 3 years is my brother. He lives in the same bldg. and helps me clean. I haven’t had any sort of girlfriend in 3+ years (only for about 4 months, she was depressed, too) and other than she and another 1 or2, maybe 4 people have been in my apartment—not inspectors—since 2003.

I've gone as long as 4 weeks without showering. I’ve gone as long as 9 months not doing laundry. It got to the point where I got so many 2nd hand clothes so I could go for a long time, but still wearing everything at least 7-8 times. I buy new underwear and socks after I ruin the old ones from a few months of non-stop wearing them. I haven't changed my sheets since April. I go insanely long times not shaving or getting a haircut. Not by decision, but because it either doesn't occur to me or I just can't bring myself to do it. People know how bad off I am based on how long my hair and beard are, in addition to the body odor, dirty hair and dirty clothes.

I don’t read mail. I can’t bring myself to face the potential bad news.

You know what?

Once in a while I go to a movie with my brother. He drives when we’re together. Once in a while I rent a movie. Sometimes I enjoy it. In Jan. I planned—ALL BY MYSELF—my trip to stay with a friend in NYC so I could see the T I hadn’t seen in 9 years. I stayed with a friend and I think I was there 4 days for multiple sessions. I actually rode the subway around Manhattan and walked around a bit—ALONE, my friend was working—and had to kill time in some shops between appointments . Luckily, no pictures were taken of me, or not by the government or some corporate entity I encountered. This trip was when I was in the midst of my closest sui time ever. I was so bad off that I knew the only thing that would stop me was seeing the old T. Only. If I hadn't gone to meet him, I wouldn't have been around 3 days later. Does taking the trip demonstrate that I wasn't depressed or disabled because I was able to, or that I was but so extraordinarly desperate that I was able to make a couple of phone calls and go to the travelocity site?

In Aug. I went to a retreat for the 12-step group I’m in now. 2 days! I packed my own bag! I smiled a couple of times! I faked liking it and being happy and smiling quite a few times so that everyone didn’t get a bad opinion of me or ask me what was so bad. Hate to tell them about all that multiple kinds of childhood abuse, you know. My (non) relationship, career woes, devastation at losing the carrier everyone says is perfect for me (can't do a PhD when we're disabled with clinical depression). I was a highly promising academic star—very heavily recruited for grad school and got in 5 of the top 10 schools on anyone’s list of the best of the best.

I went out to a small gathering on Fri. I went late. I always go to social gatherings late so I don’t have to spend much time there or talk much. Less "keeping up appearances." I laughed a few times. Went to the store and bought a pie to bring. Went over to a friend from the 12 step program’s house to help with some clean-up. Did it to help! And get to know people better in the hope that someday I can start socializing more. I’m very attracted to her, but who wants anything to do with someone like me?

After returning home from grad school, not knowing I’d never go back or be depressed for a decade, I lived on my savings in my IRA. I figured I’d get a job, or go back to school soon enough. I lived for 2 years on the most minimal amount of money until I hit zero and had to declare bankruptcy on $17k debt. The most humiliating moment of my life. I tried, and tried. I also went on SSDI. Also, and still, humiliating. I did everything I could to avoid it. The bankruptcy court judge told me I should’ve declared way earlier and not spent my retirement savings in my IRA to zero. Pride kept me from doing that, and my life never turned around like I thought it would.

I’m a genius in test scores and accomplishments. I have a great work history—spectacular. I worked for one of the biggest companies in this nation and earned/saved them a few million in my time (vs. making a pittance, on the way up you know, before the big bucks)—I created a way to calculated my personal impact on the bottom line—for just part of what I did (ficnnce and control), so it can be demonstrated.Were I to have been working for them when my depression hit, I would’ve been eligible for their disability coverage, but as a grad student, no such thing exists.

I’ve contributed greatly in many ways, and still can, but I can’t right now and haven’t been able to for years now. Someday.

Am I not really depressed and not disabled because I smile once in a while, see a movie, and pretend to enjoy myself with others for a few hours or days? Planned an airplane trip to another city and was able to get out of bed at my friend’s place to go to my therapist’s appointment?

It’s been for worse for than what I’ve described here. You tend not to remember the really rough stuff.

Maybe I’m not depressed or disabled. Maybe I’m just lucky no one took my photo in NYC, on the retreat, at the video store, or at the movie theater.

I don't expect you to understand my struggle, but judging me--were you to--based on what you THINK YOU WOULD DO IN THE SAME SITUATION is laughable. Until you're in the situation, you don't know what you'd do. That's elementary logic. My addled mind can at least hold that thought in place. It's bad enough when people who don't understand clinical depression judge and/or put that woman down, but I expect a higher level of understanding and compassion, and less judgement, here.