I’m pretty depressed right now. I show all the symptoms. I go to bed early and wake up late. I feel like I don’t want to do anything at all. Even the things I enjoyed are not things I want to do anymore. Eating is even more of a chore than usual. And of course, I’m bombarded by the voices of negativity in my head. That this will be forever. That it’s my fault. That I’m worthless. That life sucks.
And while I think I’m a person who’s predisposed to mental illness, I don’t think that’s exactly the cause of it here. It’s strange how in psychology mental illness has been viewed as pathology which is entirely internal to the individual. It’s so so obvious that this is not the case. Yes, some individuals are going to be more prone to having mental health issues than others. But the environment plays a big and unrecognised role.
My depression is the result of acute and chronic stressors which my body simply refuses to react to anymore. I’ve been unable to get a “real” job since graduating last May. I have almost no money and no freedom. I live in isolation in the middle of the suburbs, mostly away from opportunities to make money and gain experience. And there is always the scepter of “what will I do if I can’t get a job” which haunts me every single day. It’s not helpful that it seems like everyone is obsessed with employment gaps and AI taking our jobs. Oh, and I’m 23 now, and I have only 10 months before my parents’ insurance stops covering me. That means my medications and therapies will become prohibitively expensive if I still don’t have a job by then. These are the sorts of things I’ve been worrying about for months and months. On the other hand, I’m under pressure from my parents to get a job as soon as possible. They won’t support me moving out without a job or other opportunity secured, and they’ve hinted that they also won’t support me “forever”, whatever that means. These are the sorts of things which would normally cause me immense anxiety/dread, and they did for a bit. But I think the stress was starting to overload my body, so it turned to depression instead. Depression feels easier to bear in some ways, at least for me. It’s not so impending, not so sharp and urgent. It’s just a really exhausted, hopeless feeling. Doesn’t take so much energy, which is maybe the point. I guess it’s like freezing to death, where you just get really sleepy and lie down in the snow to die?
Where does poverty come in? Oh, right. So technically, I’m not poor. My parents are rich as fuck (at least relative to the world; in the US they’re probably still upper-class), and I live in one of the richest countries in the world. But I personally have almost no money. And having no money has been a valuable experience, because it has taught me how much money matters. I have a better (if far from perfect) understanding of poverty now than I have ever had in my entire life. And even this limited understanding frightens me.
I’ve read maybe half of Poor Economics, and one of the things I remember them covering in that book is how incredibly stressful and dangerous it is to be poor. As a poor person, there is no buffer to cushion you. You have to be worried about a week of bad business, a machine part breaking down, a family member taking a fall. That could make it impossible to pay back loans which have prohibitively high interest rates (which were the only ones you could get because… you’re poor). That could easily take you from “staying afloat” to homeless and starving and massively indebted. You also will be less able to take advantage of opportunities/investments which would greatly benefit you. Like you might not even be able to buy a cart to haul your fruit in, or put a bright child through primary school. In essence, you’re stuck in a poverty trap where just staying alive takes all your time and effort and thinking, and anything you build up could just be knocked out in a second.
For me, I’ve had moments of worry reminiscent of this. What if I get into a car crash, or suffer a major injury of some sort, or get severely sick? What if that cost me an important job opportunity or wiped out what little money I had? I’d be even more beholden to my parents than I am now, all because of one freak incident.
But it gets worse. Not only are you pretty much set up to fail (not necessarily by intention, but simply by the nature of our world), but both your physical and mental health suffer. I’m pretty sure people are easily convinced that poverty results in worse physical health outcomes, but they may be less convinced that it results in worse mental health outcomes. But my experience—which is of course only a tiny fraction of what is experienced by the chronically impoverished—tells me that it makes a world of difference.
I remember one of the stories they told in that book, about this older man’s experience of extreme poverty (unfortunately I don’t remember his name). He had previously made a living by being a day-to-day laborer, but some circumstance or other had made it impossible for him to get that work. At the time he was interviewed, he was still unable to find any jobs, and was subsisting on barely enough food to live (I think some was a stipend from the government and some was what he could gather on his own). But what really sucked was that he was incredibly depressed. It was hard to motivate himself to do what was basically necessary for him to survive, let alone to keep looking for jobs when he was constantly met with failure. The stress and energy that it takes is enough to wear anyone down eventually, especially someone who is already malnourished and aging.
And I have a fraction of relation to that depression and hopelessness of being stuck in the trap. I have the slightest bit of insight into why there are people on the street who literally just lie in their sleeping bags all day. Life when you’re poor must just be so incredibly difficult in so many ways. And there’s no one who really is willing to risk themselves to help you, because you’re just a homeless bum on the street to them. Some of these people have nothing but the trauma they’ve endured, and no one but the people they’ve been abused by. Now more than ever, when I have seen one of them, I think to myself: “there but for the grace of God go I”. Now more than ever I admire the courage of people to hold up signs begging for money. Because what self-respecting person would want to be panhandling for change if they had any other option? These people aren’t especially lazy, and they don’t especially want to be beggars, but they have no other choice. They do what they must, and I respect them for that.
I’m not proud of myself for how I’ve been the person who walks by and does nothing so often. I’ve often regretted not doing more for people who were so clearly in need. Some form of consolation is that I’ve sometimes been kind enough to give a dollar or two or five and to sit down and have a conversation every now and then. Somehow, even before I fell into my own kind of trap, I understood how terrible and unfair and humiliating their position was, and I felt compassion for them. And I’m glad that I’ve never once mistreated a homeless person, other than neglecting them of course.
For those who are fortunate: please have compassion for those who are less fortunate. Please remember all the people in your life who have helped you get to the place you are in now, and be charitable in understanding why others did not accomplish all the things you did. Please give the less fortunate the basic dignity of trusting them with the dollar or two you give. If you can, spare an encouraging or compassionate word for them. And for broader poverty-reduction measures, please keep in mind that sometimes giving does work. Not all charities are effective, but some—like GiveWell, GiveDirectly, and StrongMinds—are. Just know that the people who receive the aid that your money made possible will be so so so grateful for it. It will make so much more of a difference in their lives than it will in yours.
And for those who are less fortunate: don’t give up. Do what you have to do, be depressed as you need to be, but keep on living and trying if you can. Try to save where you can and do what odd jobs come up to build yourself up. It’s not your fault you are where you are. But sometimes you are the one who has to make the effort to get out, and that really sucks. Just keep on doing what you can do, just a little more than you think you’re capable of. Those little things can add up, and they might just be your ticket out.
As for me, my biggest regret is that I didn’t do anything earlier to avoid all this. Had I had more internships or apprenticeships in college, I might have more money and a real job now. Had I gotten a paying menial job over the summer of 2023, I might still be in my own place with my friends. I might not be so depressed or bereft of opportunities. But the past is the past, and it’s unchangeable now. What I’ve promised to myself is this, though. If I ever get a ticket out of this godforsaken trap, if I ever get a second chance to be out there and on my own, I swear on my life. As God is my witness, I will never be trapped again.
I'm sorry to hear you're in such a situation =(
I am also having a hard time with depression for many reasons, and I know too well the kind of vicious circles it can create =(
Correction: children and young adults under 26 are covered by insurance. I think in MN there may also be no limit. But at least until 26 I should be okay I think. Thanks Obama!