Jung At Heart Archive July 2008

More thoughts on later life 

What to call this period? Today I am 62. I am not middle aged. I am not old old either. Yet I am different from when I was in my 50's. I have this keen sense about the onrushing end, that I have perhaps 25 years, and not likely more, of active life ahead. That changes things. I see myself in the last quarter of my life. But who knows? That is one of the issues of this stage.

Some factors I plan to consider --

Men continue to be able to sire children into old age; for women, menopause marks the end of reproduction -- how does this affect the last quarter? 

There are so few places to see bodies showing age, other than in our own mirrors. Media images of older women see absence of signs of aging as success, presence as something to be clucked over. "You look so young" is a compliment, as if to look old were a mark of failure. Why should I not look my age?

We are different at this age than our mothers were. At 62, though she would live another 18 years, my mother was older than I am now. Her health was poorer; her life less active.

Having a sense of where the end lies changes things.  Ambitions and desires can continue to develop, but now there is the knowledge that there likely will not be time for everything. How to prioritize? And how to handle it when flagging energy and physical resources make some longer for ambitions no longer attainable?


Old news is good news

I subscribe to Google News to keep up with what's happening in psychiatry and psychotherapy. And the other day it served up an interesting item on Jungian books. But the item dates from January, 2004! I wonder what made Google cough it up yesterday?

Anyway, the list is from Deirdre Bair, who wrote a long and excellent biography of Jung, which I recommend highly. Here are her picks, courtesy of the Guardian:


1. Memories, Dreams, Reflections by CG Jung

2. Modern Man in Search of a Soul by CG Jung

3. Man and His Symbols by CG Jung (ed)

4. Jung and the Post-Jungians by Andrew Samuels

5. The Jungians by Thomas B Kirsch

6. On Jung by Anthony Stevens

7. Jung by Anthony Storr

8. The Vision Thing by Thomas Singer (ed)

9. CG Jung Speaking: Interviews and Encounters by William McGuire and RFC Hull (eds)

10. The Discovery of the Unconscious by Henri Ellenberger

What do you think? I have read all of them. And I have no real quarrel with her choices. I might not us Stevens or Storr , including instead Jung's Answer to Job and Susan Rowland's Jung as a Writer.


Midlife ➞ Becomes Later Life

It's not that there hasn't been the usual run of mental health news to fret about this week; there has. But I have been deep in thought about later life and what it means for us and how we respond to it. Midlife has gotten lots of press. Midlife crisis is so widely known it is all but a cliche. As with many life issues, as the Baby Boomers turned 40, we began to write about midlife. And as we Boomer women reached menopause, we began to write about it. And now, we , those of us like me on the leading edge of our generation, have moved firmly into what is the last quarter of life. And apart from a lot of articles about how to live to be really old and pieces about retirement, there doesn't seem to be much yet about entering the last chapters. 

Some of us may live longer, but this period, from 60-85, seems to be the place of late life issues.

Let's look again at this quote from Jung that I included in my last post:

In the secret hour of life's midday the parabola is reversed, death is born. The second half of life does not signify ascent, unfolding, increase, exuberance, but death, since the end is its goal. The negation of life's fulfillment is synonymous with the refusal to accept its ending. Both mean not wanting to live, and not wanting to live is identical with not wanting to die. Waxing and Waning make one curve. 

The goal of all life, the end point, death is what lies in front of us all. And in this last quarter, it looms larger than it has before and is much more a part of consciousness. To be fully alive is to know that death lies ahead.

Between here and death, there is a lot of territory. Work to be done to deal with things left undone, to reconcile ourselves to our past, to seriously consider the story we have been living with an eye especially toward any changes we want to make in the remaining years.

A friend of mine, a woman in her mid-70's, mentioned last week that she wishes she could read about this life period as she could about midlife. The issues of midlife are not hers. She wrestles with the conflict between the desire to do and the body that no longer wants to. With the bubbling up of creative possibilities that she does not know she can bring to fruition. She is a bit further down the road than I am, but she raises issues I am already aware of -- of having to prioritize in a new way, to come to terms with the certain knowledge that if there is something I want to do, want to create, I have to get down to work now because time is passing swiftly.

And how to wrestle with these issues without succumbing to despair or melancholy and regret is a major concern. What does it mean to become old? How to come to terms with a body, a face that is not the face or body I carry in my mind's eye of myself? Finding a new rhythm. Finding people willing to wrestle with me. These are the issues is see right off. Issues I plan to explore for myself and for my work in the weeks and months ahead.

Where are we going?

When I was in college, each year at the beginning of the year was a campus-wide symposium centered on a book or books that everyone read over the summer. I think it was my sophomore year that the topic was summarized as "Who am I? Where am I going?" -- absolutely spot on for 19 year olds struggling to figure out who we were. 

But these questions are the questions for a lifetime, not just for the emerging adult to wrestle with. There is an emerging notion that the goal of life is happiness, that anything short of happiness in life is indicative of some disorder, some brain dysfunction. There is a Brave New World quality to that, a denial of the value and meaning in our unhappy times, in our valleys.

Jung notes:

In the secret hour of life's midday the parabola is reversed, death is born. The second half of life does not signify ascent, unfolding, increase, exuberance, but death, since the end is its goal. The negation of life's fulfillment is synonymous with the refusal to accept its ending. Both mean not wanting to live, and not wanting to live is identical with not wanting to die. Waxing and Waning make one curve. 

In the second half of life, that long span from 40 to 90, where we spend most of our adult lives, we come face to face with disappointment and defeat. Marriages fail, parents die, friends die, careers wane or fail. But this is as much a part of the natural curve of life as are the acquisitions of the first half of life.

The turns of the second half of life when seen as depression, as a problem to be solved, made to go away may yield short term satisfaction. If instead we take them as a call to deepening, to enrichment and meaning, then what was a crisis becomes an opportunity.


There is meaning in this

A flurry of articles has set me to pondering again the meaning of how we think about depression. Let me share them with you.

First, take a look at "How Prozac sent the science of depression in the wrong direction" in the Boston Globe. Now no one seems to have told the drug companies about this, or at least not their marketing divisions because the commercials for Cymbalta and the like are still running telling us that "depression hurts" and pushing the chemical imbalance theory of depression, though it is discredited now. Interesting that there have been researchers saying for years that there was no evidence to support that theory but only now is there reluctant yielding to that reality.

Now the sharp-eyed reader of that article will notice that Lehrer puts forward another theory for depression and mirabile dictu, now it is brain cells --

"In recent years, scientists have developed a novel theory of what falters in the depressed brain. Instead of seeing the disease as the result of a chemical imbalance, these researchers argue that the brain’s cells are shrinking and dying. This theory has gained momentum in the past few months, with the publication of several high profile scientific papers. The effectiveness of Prozac, these scientists say, has little to do with the amount of serotonin in the brain. Rather, the drug works because it helps heal our neurons, allowing them to grow and thrive again."

Which might make you think that the only treatment for depression, for these dying brain cells is medication. But what about the studies that show that other treatments are as effective if not more so -- like regular exercise or psychotherapy? Could it be that they also revise neurons? Is anybody looking to see?

But what about this, from Furious Seasons:

"Anti-Depressants Don't Work In 40 Percent Of People Due To Four Genes

File this under "well now they tell us": Mayo Clinic psychiatrists announced last week at a conference in Britain that 40 percent of people who take an anti-depressant cannot respond to the medication owing to a genetic "abnormality."

Uh-oh. 

As John Grohol points out, this is part of a narrative that has seized the media and, from where I sit, psychiatry as well. The trumpet of mental disorders as medical in nature and best treated medically continues to play despite the accumulating evidence against it. The chemical imbalance theory fails? Okay, try this dying neuron theory.

"This would be true if mental disorders were pure medical diseases. But they are not and have never been. They are human constructs of aberrant behavior or emotions. They are by no means universal (although some of the big ones, like depression, can be found in most human societies)."

Lehrer reports: "Castren says that patients must still work to cement these connections in place, perhaps with therapy. He compares antidepressants with anabolic steroids, which increase muscle mass only when subjects also go to the gym."

To which Grohol replies:

"You need some encouragement for a drug to take effect? This is nonsense. Drugs either work or do not, they do not need to be “cemented” to the brain through therapy."

So as I was in the shower this morning, I got to thinking about how persistent this effort is to make depression, and there are other instances as well of course, a medical illness. Because it seems to have taken over and become the dominant paradigm at least in the US. Even in the face of reports of potentially serious side effects like GI bleeding 

And I wonder if it has something to do with a kind of puritanical underpinning to our culture, one which sees problems which are not medical as so much whining. So a person who is depressed and isn't considered medically ill -- you know, that fuzzy term "clinically depressed" which only means that a clinician says the problem seems to be depression, because there is no way to definitively establish such a diagnosis -- might be expected by those around him to "pull up his socks and get over it" or just get n with things. Whereas someone who is ill and needs medication, well, it's not his fault; it's his brain chemicals or dying neurons or something. Is it maybe underneath it all about blame? Blame and an all but irresistible American attraction to the promised quick fix.

Certainly money plays a part. And turf guarding. But there is more.

© Cheryl Fuller, 2007. All  rights reserved.