Depression, Etc. (#15): What The Animals Did and How They Changed My Life

Sam and me

I've been a lacto-ovo vegetarian for most of my life. I don't eat meat, but I do eat eggs and dairy. The catch is that I might be cheating. That's horribly embarrassing to admit. I consider eggs a type of meat, but I eat them because it's hard to replace the good old egg as an ingredient and as a source of protein. I wear leather shoes because they're more comfortable for me and help my feet and ankles. Some of my vitamins and medications are contained in a gelatin capsule. There are probably other things I do which would get me kicked out of any self-respecting protest group. If I could, I wouldn't eat any kind of meat or wear any animal products. But things don't always go that way for me.

I started my vegetarian diet during my teens when I wrote a school paper on whaling. Soon after that I began my "study" of the animal rights movement. During college I checked out PETA and more hardcore animal rights organizations. I had to get myself right. It was kind of like my own religious movement. However, I'd already been through my own real religious movement years before and decided that standard religion wasn't for me. I was a Presbyterian but was frustrated by a lack of real day-to-day fellowship at my church. Unfortunately or not, my OCD and emotional problems made Christianity painful for me. I stopped my religious search to find out what would work for me. Similarly, I had to go AWOL from the "official" animal rights movement. I became disillusioned with what seemed to be organizational politics in local protest groups. And these are humans? Animal rights protestors may have been card-carrying supporters for the rights of animals, but did they really believe in what they were doing. Or did they go out for a steak dinner and, afterwards, spit in people's faces. Did the protesters, in this circumstance, communicate respect to others while standing firm in their beliefs.

I decided what was right for me was to "inner-promote" the rights of animals. Thanks to a statement by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins I've found a way, just recently, to translate this "inner-promotion." The short story is that animals are integral to the earth and, by that fact, must be respected by humans. There is the sticky, multi-legged argument about whether animals should ever be kept as pets, but I believe that I can do only the best I can do in my diet, in my household, in my beliefs. And I do love pets. Pets seem to make a home more loving.

Anyways and how, I don't like pushing things on people, so I don't yell at people who are eating meat in front of me. I don't lecture people on wearing fur or throw paint on their coats. I don't believe in bombing labs . I don't believe that this violence accomplishes anything. However, I'm not immune to my judgements. I get harrumphed when I see people wearing fur coats, and I'm talking about wearing fur coat in a pleasant climate. I have friends and relatives who don't like fur coats and they become harrumphed too. I understand that there are people who practice vegetarianism and animal rights nonviolently. I also understand that there are people who cannot eat a vegetarian diet due to their health and that some of those furs are only "furs." Heck I have one of those "furs."

Okay, all of this is off the topic of how animals influenced my healing. I just want you to know a little about my background.

Me at Disney, animal-style

When I was depressed during my first bout in the '90s, I would lie on my mom's sofa . . . a lot. I stayed there because I was tired, because it was safe, and because that's all I could do. I remember one time I was watching TV and a squirrel ran up on the porch and then back down. I was surprised by the squirrel, almost like he was pouncing on a good day. This was in Florida, which has some of the greatest little creatures, like squirrels and tiny lizards. To me those lizards are tiny dinos. While I could not speak and was too afraid to venture far outside, animals were my limbs and eyes. I would watch animals alluringly manipulate their worlds,. Inside my mom's apartment, my whole world at the time, I had newts and an albino African-Clawed Toad named James Herbert Clodhopper. I later found out that James Herbert was a female, but the name James Herbert stuck. Often the newts didn't do much, until one would propel himself to the surface of the water in a fantastic display of Newtdom. James Herbert swam around her tank very quiet in her translucent and lovely way. My newts and toad, thank the greater animals, never asked me about how my meds were working, about how depressed I was, about when I thought I would go back to school, and about how group therapy was going. It was all a non-event to them.

My grandmother's cat Sam was a dear. Before my grandmother adopted Sam, my family and I lost our long-time cat Gorilla, who had to be euthanized because of Feline Leukemia. By the way, I get credit for Gorilla's name. Sam, the new cat, had one or two litters of kittens and always remained a motherly feline. At my most depressed, when I visited my grandmother, I would retreat to Sam's space and place my head by her chest, imagining what it would be like as one of her kittens. What I sensed, anthropomorphism be blessed, was that Sam never insisted that I be a healed person. Her "acceptance of me" as a human was heartbreakingly real at a time when I had difficulty relating to my own species. I decided that I'd rather spend more time with animals. Even now, sometimes, I enjoy the company of animals more than the company of humans. My healing,without a doubt, was expedited due to my experiences with animals.

I'll be talking more about animals in future posts, including great resources that have been with me for many years and that discuss the place of animals in this culture and, in some cases, their healing qualities.

Gerbil Nimh eating banana