I think that most of us experience our thoughts and feelings as a kind of voluntary thing. We experience things though our senses, and we respond with emotions and actions.
We feel like we have some control over emotions and responses. Something sad happens, and we can choose how broken up to be about it. Something happens that is unfair and hateful, and we can choose how angry to be. We are praised or we do something we really like, and we can choose how happy to be.
Of course, there are social norms about these feelings; indeed about any response to any situation. If our feelings and actions fall within the range of the norms, our behavior is considered acceptable, and we can get along with other people. So we experience ourselves moderating our actions and emotions so they can fall within this norm.
My point is that for most of us, it seems like we can choose what to feel. We can decide to be happy, or we can decide to be sad. If someone else is too sad or somehow inappropriately sad, a lot of people will suspect that this person is milking the sadness. Or that they are just a bummer, and they’ll stay away from the sad person.
So, our experience is that emotions are voluntary. Our thoughts are voluntary. We decide what to feel and think.
Now, along comes a deep sadness, and maybe it isn’t related to much of anything. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy can teach us how to manipulate our emotions so that we are back on track, feeling good again. It provides even more support for the idea that emotions are under control, and that anyone who remains depressed is tanking it. They just aren’t being responsible for themselves. They are being lazy. They must want to be unhappy.
Many other therapies are also based on the idea that if we think about things, and explore our history, we can identify the place where the sad thoughts started, and learn how to deal with them, or push them away.
Along comes the brain researchers, and the medicalists, and they start arguing that there is more to it than choice. But they have a hard time gaining traction, because the vast majority of people only experience choice. They think the medicalists are giving the lazy folks a way out, and this is unhelpful. What those lazy depressed people need is a kick in the butt, not medicine.
However, the medicines do work. They enable people to feel ok again. Of course, there’s usually a long journey in trying to find the right set of drugs that will work. But people get back on track with drugs.
Of course, there are still a lot of people who say that they did it themselves. They didn’t need drugs. And they look down on those who do need drugs, and wonder what they can’t get it together. After all, the self-improvers were able to.
Well, what can I say? I started feeling these weird anxieties. They felt like a physical shaking inside my chest. I couldn’t do things that normally made me happy, like playing the trumpet for the caroling on the corner. I just couldn’t do it. I’d never felt like that before, and there was no reason, as far as I could tell, for it to happen.
The next day I found out that an old friend of mine had some cancer that had just been discovered and he had days to live. He had received this news right around the time I started feeling bad. Aha! That was it! Maybe I was psychic!
A few weeks later it happened more, and then more, and pretty soon I was a wreck. I was ready to die, myself. All along, I could think of no reason for me to be feeling this way. It made no sense to me. I kept looking for something to explain it. And there wasn’t anything. So I had to make something. I started trying to destroy my life, just so it would make my feelings make sense.
I nearly succeeded, too. Fortunately, my wife loved me more than I hated myself. She got me to a shrink, and I got diagnosed (bipolar), and started on drugs. A year and a quater later, I feel like myself again. But I also feel like I didn’t do anything other than take the drugs.
So I feel it must be the drugs. Along the way, other strange things have happened. Not only did my emotions change, but it seemed like my thoughts were changed by the drugs. Things I though one week, I couldn’t think the next. They no longer made sense (and a good thing, too).
Well, I’m only one case, and none of you can know what it’s like to think what I think. You can believe my story—or not. You can never know if it’s an accurate description or not. But you can observe my behavior, and you can see if it changes under the drug regimen.
I don’t just think that mental illnesses have a physical basis. I’ve experienced it. I have done nothing other than what I always did, and I started feeling weirder and weirder for no reason I could find, and then, with the drugs, I came back to my old self.
It’s really weird, too. I had been one of those people who believed we are in control. “Happiness is a choice,” I believed, as Barry Kauffman wrote. It made sense to me. I chould choose how I looked and felt about my life. So when I couldn’t do that, I thought I was tanking it. I thought I was just looking for sympathy, or something. I was so hard on myself. People told me not to be. They said it wasn’t my fault. I thought they were jollying me along. They were giving me an out that I didn’t want. I wanted to be responsible for my own thinking and behavior.
There are so many people out there who tell you it’s under your control. Now I know that’s bullshit. I think there’s a 75% chance I’d be dead by now if I hadn’t gotten meds. Even though I never believed in suicide, and I loved life and never believed I could do that, I felt so bad, I was considering it, and imagining how to do it, and believing the world would be better off without me. It probably would be, but I don’t care, now. I’m ok with living my life, and while I do care what others think, I’m not going to let that stop me from making a fool of myself.
So yes. I’m pretty sure that mental illnesses shouldn’t really be called mental illnesses. They should be called brain chemical disorders, or something like that. I think our thoughts have some control over our brain chemicals, but not nearly complete control. I’m pretty sure that some day we’ll see how that works—how there’s a feedback system between the chemistry and physics (and metaphysics) of thought. It isn’t all physics or chemistry, but it also isn’t all metaphysics and thought monitoring and control. Sometimes it gets so out of balance, that we need to intervene in the chemistry. Well, we think we’re intervening, but, it’s also true that the chemistry is making us intervene. We are our brain chemistry. Our brain chemistry is us.