I do like community...and while I prefer to be 'invisible', I don't like to be alone. I want to see the research, now...
Group culture protects from depression
from the Press Release page of The Royal Society
28 Oct 2009
Collectivistic cultures, which promote social harmony over individuality, protect people who are genetically predisposed to depression from experiencing the condition. So says a study published today in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B, which looks at how genes and environment can evolve together.
People living in individualistic cultures such as Western societies are more likely to suffer from a genetic tendency for depression than people in Eastern cultures, despite fewer people carrying the specific 'depression gene' being studied, say psychologists Joan Chiao and Katherine Blizinsky from Northwestern University. The research supports the idea that depression can result from both genes and the environment, and an interaction of the two.
( Read more... )
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Good night at work. Girl happy- her baby nephew's birthday today, she loves being Auntie and she loves birthdays. I had lovely company overnight online- thank you, pirates!- even though the wireless was still a bit iffy.
Left work intending to pick blueberries but it was already harkening 'too hot and too bright'- not a good combination when one's ultimate goal is to sleep during the day. So I stopped at the market- not 'my' market, but a big one- for a few supplies.
And got hit out of left field by such frustration with the whole 'hugeness' of modern industrialized food. Took me 20 damn minutes to find:
-- a 'bread item' that wasn't a pound-and-a-half in one package AND wasn't processed up the yin-yang
-- a block of feta cheese. Not crumbled, not spiced or herbed or some such. Just a block of plain feta cheese.
-- a jar of kalamata olives under 12 oz, without sugar (sugar? in olives) and added salt.
I came out of there so strongly possessed of the urge to drink. That's not happened in that way for years- I've been sober (with the exception of a sip of rum for one very special occasion) for 7+ years- but by fucking god, the urge to go right back in and get a bottle was so damn strong.
Instead I came home, made myself a tray of pita bread, olives, feta, watercress, and sliced apple, came upstairs, got in bed, got online, and got some support and lovin'.
And the urge to drink passed, my breakfast was delicious, and the friends saved my life.
Can't do better than that, really.
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