I've avoided the family curse.

I wonder if one can talk one's self out of depression. I think so. I'm an advocate of talk therapy. Moreso than drug therapy. Albeit, the two combined may work wonders. But even talk therapy. Alone. Can do it. At least with some people. It's worth a try. I'm not sure what it means to be in depression. Especially deep depression. Because to the best of my knowledge, I've never been there. I've been disconsolate. Sad. But I assume never clinically depressed. Because I talk to myself. I talk my way out of sadness. And find a way to becone happy again. Or at least not sad. Maybe I'm one of the lucky ones. I may not have a disposition for depression. I even hate the thought of being depressed. I don't even want to go there. So I build barriers. Mental barriers. And maybe I have the right combination of natural hormones and chemicals in my system. If so, thank gawd. My mother was depressed. Particularly in the last 20 years of her 88-year life. I assume my father was depressed. After all, he committed suicide when he was 38. And my brother was depressed. And my sister has spent much of her life in depression. So it would seem that I come from a family of depressed people. Why have I escaped the curse? Or will it catch up with me some day? I can imagine if I were dying a slow and lingering and painful death, I'd be a bit depressed. I'd even consider suicide. Maybe so I wouldn't have to live with depression. Maybe that's what my father did. Anyway, here I am at age 75. And I've avoided the Broede family curse. Depression. --Jim Broede