With respect, now, to non-traumatic childhood experiences: understanding one's history can also have beneficial effects in reducing negative self-comparisons, as illustrated by the story about my mother and me just above. Knowledge of one's history also can help you understand why your inner logic leads you to choose being depressed, if this is your pattern. This observation may convince you that the benefits of self-pity in depression may not be worth the pain. Being obviously depressed may be effective for a child by inducing others to show pity and love. But exhibitions of depression by adults tend to turn away other people. The people most needing love are usually the least lovable, someone once said.

So, a device that was successful for the child, and therefore made into a habit, may be counter-productive as an adult. If the adult recognizes this change in circumstances, and correctly evaluates the cost/benefit ratio of adult depression, the adult may quit the habit. Of course the direct pleasures of self-pity may continue to outweigh the pains of depression, in which case the depression will continue to be relatively attractive. But with the recognition that depression is not a profitable tactic outwardly, the balance may tip away from choosing to be depressed.

It may also be helpful to understand destructive patterns of interpersonal relationships learned in childhood. For example, my difficulty in dealing with bosses stems from my childhood relationship with my father. I concluded that he did not have my interests at heart but rather only his own. I never felt he could be believed, or relied upon to deal honestly with me. Psychoanalysts believe that, without psychoanalytic reliving of the event it would be a waste of time in a case like mine to try to build a habit of dealing confidently with a boss. They believe that unless one goes back to the original problem, cleans out the Stygian stables and builds a new solid groundwork, one cannot have a psychologically-safe future. In this case a psychoanalyst would attempt to show me, by laboriously building a trustworthy relationship with me--that is, by laying a new groundwork of interpersonal experience--that all relationships need not be like the relationship I had with my father. In this way, the psychoanalytic therapy might improve my numerator, that is, my view of my possibilities.

It is as if psychoanalysts say that one can never simply replace a bad faucet successfully; the past will always ruin such simple replacements unless one replaces all the old plumbing and hence gets the past straightened out.

Psychoanalytic inspection of the past--whether by yourself, as was mostly the case with me, or with a therapist--certainly may be of value in discovering the historical sources of contemporary negative self-comparisons. But in the majority of cases professional psychoanalysis is of dubious value for treating depression:

Most psychoanalysts will not treat patients with clear-cut depression for a number of reasons. First, the energy-depletion process, however they may understand it, contributes a pathogenic factor which strongly resists psychoanalysis. Second, the frankly depressed patient usually has insufficient interest in treatment to be able to pursue the arduous regimen of psychoanalysis. Third, the frankly depressed patient is too miserable to have patience for analysis. Moreover there are far too many depressed patients to be treated by psychoanalysts, and psychoanalysis is far too costly for most individuals.(8)

In my own case, I did not want to spend the time or money to reflect at length with a therapist about my childhood relationship with my parents. Furthermore, psychoanalysis by itself does not have a very good statistical record of relieving depression, even after prolonged therapy. In contrast, cognitive therapy has been proven successful in controlled tests.

Getting the Habit of a Sweet Denominator

After you have decided to substitute a new and less demanding denominator for the harsh old one, you must build the habit of implementing that decision. With such a habit, your "insight" and decision to change the denominator becomes more than just a bit of interesting self-knowledge. The principles of building such a habit are similar to those we discussed for improving your numerator.

An illustration: Basil T. is a small businessman who makes a decent living--but only a decent living. No Cadillac for him, no three-month trips down the Nile for his family, no fat portfolio of stocks and bonds. Basil used to spend most of his hours working around his store. When he wasn't working he felt sad because he wasn't getting enough done, or earning enough; he was frequently depressed. Then Basil came to understand that his sadness arose from the negative self-comparison between his actual income and what he felt he ought to earn. And it was easy for him to figure out why he felt he ought to have an upper- middle class income, and ought to be able to afford luxury rather than just a decent living.

In the extended family in which Basil grew up, the only mark of success was being "rich." Basil long ago decided that he rejected this benchmark standard. But he kept on with his workaholic schedule, and continued to be depressed, until he built the habit that resolved the problem. He built the habit of saying to himself, "Stop pushing, you've got enough", together with taking in a deep relaxing breath deep in his abdomen, each time he noticed himself thinking "You aren't getting any work done." And Basil found that he liked his new, more-relaxed way of life well enough so that it reinforced his habit and kept it going. And Basil began to enjoy his life, and afterwards he seldom let depression stay with him for more than a few hours at a time.

The key point about Basil's case is that no single anti- depression tactic by itself was enough. It was necessary that Basil (a) understand the role of negative self-comparisons, and the need to reduce them; (b) notice that his benchmark standard of an upper-middle class income was depressing him; (c) recognize that he held that particular denominator because he carried the ideas of the particular family in which he grew up, rather than because of any objective or logical or moral basis for it; (d) decide to change the denominator; and (e) build a habit of pushing that benchmark standard out of his thinking as soon as it came in.

Summary

One's actual state, almost no matter how bad it is in objective terms, can only cause sadness when you compare it to some benchmark hypothetical state of affairs, the denominator in your self-comparisons Mood Ratio. That is, whether a self- comparison is positive or negative depends on the benchmark standard of comparison as well as the perceived facts of your life. Many cases of depression can best be attacked by changing the benchmark state. This chapter discusses how that may be done.

People we consider "normal" tend to adjust their denominators flexibly in such fashion that they will feel good about themselves. In contrast, depressives--people with a propensity for depression--usually have a tendency to hang onto their denominators even when afflicted by them.

You can use the following procedure to alter your denominators: (1) First, recognize the importance of the denominator in the Mood Ratio as the standard of comparison. (2) Then, accept that your denominator can be changed, and that you can change it, though of course you may decide not to do so. (3) Next, consider whether you are willing to change your denominator, that is, whether you are willing to exert the effort as well as give up any rewards (including the benefits of depression) that you obtain for yourself from the old denominator.

next: Good Mood: The New Psychology of Overcoming Depression Chapter 14