The Gift of Melancholy
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles rain. — by Henry W. Longfellow
Depression and anxiety are big business in America.
Antidepressant use has soared by 65% in the past 15 years. The country produces and consumes 90% of the world’s Ritalin to treat attention deficit. Every year, doctors write nearly 50 million prescriptions for Xanax or Alprazolam to ease anxiety.
And yet, these maladies are at an all-time high, particularly among the young.
For this, I blame Thomas Jefferson. Better said, I blame his dangerous assertion that a supreme being gifted Americans with an inalienable right to pursue happiness; something Howard Mumford Jones described as the ghastly privilege of pursuing a phantom and embracing a delusion.
What’s so wrong about sadness anyway? Or melancholy? Why does everything have to be rainbow colored all the time?
I sometimes drive an hour to the ocean, hoping I will find it thoroughly obscured by fog. I am not a bore, but want a break from all the rainbow violence in the world. — Meghan Flaherty