My depression at age 16, as reflected in Shakespeare memorization assignment

We were assigned to memorize a soliloquy from Shakespeare. This is the one I chose when I was 16, and a senior in high school.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

Tonight, I recalled this incident. I've been wondering if I am "really bipolar." Recalling this soliloquy from MacBeth, I feel -- i.e. recall -- the horrible depression all over again. This helps me accept my disability. Of course, there were many, man other times when I was depressed as a child. I remember several.

One of my siblings also told me in my late adulthood that my parents had talked about me "having manic-depressive tendencies." I never knew about this discussion until I was an elder. But I did want to die, from the time I was about 3 until I got dx'd and therapy/medication when I was in my mid-50s.

In Senior English class we were assigned to memorize some lines from one of the Shakespeare plays we had read. Each member of the class memorized his or her excerpt, and then was required to recite it privately to the teacher at her desk. I was so obviously depressed that this is what I memorized. I remember feeling like I wanted to die, when I recited this to the teacher, whom I really loved. She was a wonderful teacher. I hope that nowadays teachers and schools are more attuned to the moods their students show. How any person could have heard me read these lines, and not realize I was an extremely unhappy child, is beyond me. Nobody else in the class chose to memorize this particular piece, by the way. I was the only one who did.

Thanks so much for sharing.

Your account touches my heart.

In addition, I can identify somewhat.
I recall also doing things like some clearly depressed/distraught figures in graphic arts. I had also sculpted a very unique, very distraught woman and had taken first prize at the art show. (I was too depressed to enter it into the show, my art teacher told me she needed me to leave it in her studio to use as a teaching model for a few weeks, so I had left it with her. She'd entered it into the show.)

I also wrote some papers for literature classes which could have been very telling. The papers received excellent grades and had evoked personal congrats from the various teachers. They'd seen the papers as "very insightful." In reality, I could relate to the despair about which I was writing.

My school was large -- many students. Teachers rarely talked with one another. If they had grouped my artwork and my papers, they would have likely had some insight into me.

I think my good grades and athleticism added some confusion, as these made it appear as though I was excelling, when truly, I was suicidal most of the time throughout my childhood and teen years.

Students struggling with depression don't always appear depressed outwardly, although they probably give a few cues in their school work/artwork, etc.

My parents were not able to be helpful. They were each too overwhelmed with their own challenges, and with one another, to extend themselves to their children. I was a "parent" to my parents and siblings.


WC

I understand. When I was sixteen for drama class I memorised Hamlet's Soliloquy;

To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.

I was deeply suicidal. My teacher totally missed my obsession with death...but I did get good marks. At the time I, or the teachers, knew nothing of depression so i didn't get the help I needed.

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet

Gosh, and Thanks everyone! Isn't it sad that back in the day, people didn't recognize serious pain in students? But 20 years ago, I applied for a substitute teaching position in a medium sized school district. One of the test sections was to somehow comment on an essay by a high school student. It was obvious to me that the student was extremely depressed. But the "right answer" was that s/he was irresponsible and lazy. I got a B on the test - some dumb committee of teachers who knew nothing about people OR English, had obviously written the test, because I'm an A+ English student my entire life. So ignorance is probably still going on -- but I guess all of us here know that.

Gosh! Thanks for this quote. I was just about to compose my own post saying the same things Hamlet is saying! All the itty bitty details of managing my life are cracking me up. I wrote an Art Therapy piece once called "The House Monster." But my life is really good -- I just can't appreciate what I have, which is all good. These "unprofitable ...uses of this world!" totally get to me. I am irritable, angry, resistant...well, anyway, I'm going to the pdoc sometime next week, I hope and my awesome therapist tomorrow.

I knew I was depressed as a teen and I was "getting help" because I was a cutter and had made suicidal gestures. So I can't really relate there. But I do relate to using assignments to express your feelings. For one assignment in freshman English we had to choose a theme and then find 15 songs and poems that related to that theme and analyze them, plus write our own. Everyone chose themes such as happiness and love. Me? I chose loneliness. My teacher looked at me like I was crazy when I stated my chosen theme. She was really dissaproving of me, partly because I was "goth" and wore all black clothes, dark makeup, and had crazy colored hair. I think I also didn't do any homework or anything. I was smart enough to get by on just classwork. But I loved that project and put a tremendous amount of effort into it. I was able to finally express how I was feeling every day. I don't remember how it was graded or if I ever got any feedback from the teacher. Later that year I tried to kill myself in school and got hospitalized for the rest of the year (and the whole summer). I didn't like the teachers but I loved that assignment. I even did a modified version with my students a couple of years ago. Now that I teach sixth grade I think they are too young but if I ever teach high school again I will definitely bring it back.

I spent most of my life figuring that all people walked around constantly suicidal and just didn't talk about it. My husband was the first person to convince me that my thinking was not right. Most people are not suicidal and it should be taken seriously when a person is at any age. I was suicidal as a young child a few times but I had some crappy stuff happen so I think it's understandable. I have a feeling bipolar has always been with me. Guiding my thoughts and emotions in unique ways.

(((Hugs))))

I can relate as I assumed everyone got suicidal from an early age. In my final year of high school I was voted as the person most likely to wrap their car around a pole as I was known to be wild and out of control. (it was an odd thing to vote for but it was for a section of questionnaires in our final year Year Book) Yet still, no one helped me. I think my BP goes way back too.

Thanks so much, Wander and ElsaMars, and all of you. This is a very sad thread, yes it is. And isn't it amazing how similar our experiences where when we were in school?

By the way, I have a subscription to this and some other threads, and I'm not getting email notices. Does anyone else have this issue with the site?

Easy fix (yea, the best kind! ).
Go to "My Profile" page. Left hand column "Settings and Options">"Edit Options".
Brings you to a new page. Under "Messenging and Notifications", see "Default Thread Subscription Mode". There you will find 3 options for email notification -- instant, daily or weekly.

I didn't really have serious depression till 20 at university. There really wasn't anything helpful there either in those days.

In reply to this. I am a high school English teacher. While you may have been the only student to choose this particular soliloquy, it is a very famous one so it probably wouldn't have rung bells for a teacher in and of itself. While you probably picked it because it had deep meaning for you, the reality is that most students pick whatever to get the assignment done without really much deep meaning attached at all. Unless you followed up your recitation with an essay describing your depression or told the teacher something that would have made it very apparent, it was probably not that obvious. I think those of us who live with depression are sure others can pick up on it, but honestly, most of the time we are pretty good at keeping it to ourselves and people don't pick up on the clues.

Fortunately in my district we do a great deal of depression and mental illness awareness as well as suicide prevention work for the entire district starting in elementary school (all age appropriately), not just students who come for us for help. Students are more able to identify signs of problems in themselves and their friends and ask for help now which we hope will save some lives. I am interested to see what the statistics will bear out now that we've done this for a couple of years. I know they are identifying more students in need of help than they did previously; I'm interested to know if our suicide and attempt rate will improve.