Dude. Lighten up. Its Just Depression.

So, Leah, Alauna and I are enjoying a lovely conference on the symptoms, psychopathology, and treatment of depression. The president of the Sociedad Penameña de Psiquiatría sponsored us and as such we’ve merrily obliged. Now, I’m not saying that my level of Spanish is anywhere near where it needs to be to understand the nuances of Colombian psychopatholical theory, but I do understand enough to know that one of the presenters was...er...a little bit off.

Well, as someone with a burgeoning interest in psychoanalysis I was excited to hear one of the presenters was going to talk about a more psychodynamic approach to depression. His thoughts? In a nutshell, it is the patient’s fault and religion, which so many Panameños in particular rely upon, is simply a construct of guilt. Alright, now while it provides excellent fodder for thought and discussion with my psychiatry hero Rogelio, it was kind of startling. Not so much because of the verbal content of the talk, but because of the visual accompaniment of the presenters PowerPoint.

The pictures. When one is confronted with slide after slide of pictures of blurry child reflection in broken mirrors, a hanging men in trees at dismal vermillion sunsets, and a cleary 1980s New Yorker on a public graffiti-adorned bathroom floor moments before slitting her wrists one has to wonder two things. Who amasses such a collection of photos, and who’s married to this guy. What a drag.

At the very least, it provided suitable motivation to play close enough attention to navigate the hour talk. It was also clearly entertaining to look across the row to find Rogelio enthusiastically shaking his head in protest to the presentation. Immediately upon its completion we found ourselves benevolently debriefed.

“Remember, if you start blaming the patient for everything you lose everything. I don’t agree at all with this...”

I can’t wait for tomorrow.