| Subcategories | | Condition (condition-type) | | • | New | | • | Used |
|
|
|
|
Shoot the Damn Dog: A Memoir of Depression | 
 enlarge | Author: Sally Brampton
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing PLC
Category: Book
List Price: £15.99
Buy New: £8.41
You Save: £7.58 (47%)
New (19) Used (5) from £8.00
Rating:  18 reviews
Sales Rank: 9715
Media: Hardcover
Pages: 336
Shipping Weight (lbs): 1.1
Dimensions (in): 8.5 x 5.4 x 1.4
ISBN: 0747572410
EAN: 9780747572411
ASIN: 0747572410
Publication Date: January 21, 2008
Availability: Usually dispatched within 1-2 business days
| |
| Also Available In:
|
| Similar Items:
|
| Customer Reviews: Read 13 more reviews...
 Excellent! September 3, 2008
avid reader (Essex)
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
As someone who runs groups for people who struggle with depression, I found this book really, really good and would recommend it for anyone who either suffers from or is trying to understand depression. Sally's relationship with her friends through this time is really special, and her tips on finding a way through it all is extremely helpful. Highly recommended.
A book to be grateful for August 19, 2008
Mr. R. Lewin (London, England)
2 out of 2 found this review helpful
I'd highly recommend this book for anyone who has suffered from depression. `We read to know we are not alone' it goes, and so it is here. The author successfully articulates the feelings associated with depression: the inability to function at a busy party; the wish to avoid watching upsetting news programmes and instead watch old films; eating food but feeling like you have ashes in your mouth; waking up at 3.20 every morning, infuriatingly. We read this and we think: you as well!
The complexity of depression is rife for intellectual assessment. Brampton, who is an intelligent writer, not only details her horrible experiences (and they are sometimes difficult to read) but discusses solutions. Yoga, talk therapy, vitamin supplements, interest in science, gardening and quiet, short meals with friends are some of the things offered as panacea.
She talks about antidepressants a fair bit and on one page lists the possible side effects of one particular drug. They are so horrendous as to be hilarious. It's little details like this that stop the book from being monotonous.
The book benefits from being written by a secular author, so no silly mystical or supernatural `solutions' are offered. If you're a depressive it's the book you might have been looking for for a long time, as it's one that offers more solace than many self help guides.
There's a surprising happy ending too - at least in book terms, because in life, there are no real endings: everything is temporary, everything keeps moving.
cautious July 24, 2008
Mrs. Margaret Riddington
2 out of 2 found this review helpful
Having a Black dog myself I found the book very good on facing up to the recognition of such a state of depression.It highlights very well the fundamental problem[s].However, I simply don't believe in the fairy tale ending. Firstly it is not an option between Happiness/death. Happiness is such an effervercent concept and simply not reality.In my experience it is about solid ground work.Happiness is momentary. To imagine another human being can wave a magic wand and dispel all internal problems is 'pie in the sky' In other words, the Black Dog cannot be shot, simply acknowledged and the pain eased through self help therapies.
 Worthy but not engrossing July 17, 2008
Novel Reader
2 out of 2 found this review helpful
I bought mine from a charity shop and the previous reader - clearly someone who suffers from depression - had written all over it, as she obviously had been touched very deeply and found it very true. Sadly, I only got halfway through. I'm not sure why, but it felt a bit like a reader for mental health students and I didn't feel engaged (empathy?) with the author, although of course I felt for her. I really feel I ought to recommend it, but...
 Or at least give it a decent haircut darling July 15, 2008
Dr. Cath L. Murphy (Scotland, UK)
8 out of 10 found this review helpful
Winston Churchill called his depression the "black dog", hence the title. Despite the fact that one of the most famous figures of the 20th century suffered from this disease and was open enough about it that his term for it is widely known, sufferers from depression still seem to feel that it is a "hidden" problem and that the afflicted are condemned to social ostracism and outdated, ineffective treatments.
At least, Sally Brampton does. Sympathetic as I am to her struggle with her illness, there is such a strong element of "how could this happen to me?" running through this book, that I was tempted at points to shout at it "because you are a narcissistic, self-absorbed, career woman who has suddenly realised that her life is pointless". But shouting at books makes my husband look at me oddly, so instead, I gritted my teeth and allowed Ms Brampton to tell me about her glittering career and famous friends, be rude about hapless strangers who have said the wrong thing at dinner parties (where "wrong" means not taking Ms Brampton as seriously as she would like) and plant daggers firmly between the shoulders of her poor parents, who are, of course, to blame for the horrible mess she finds herself in. As someone with family members who suffer from the severest form of this illness, I have not always been a massive fan of the psychiatric profession, but even so found myself empathising with the professionals unlucky enough to encounter Ms Brampton during her journey through the disease.
Depression has many causes, some organic, some genetic, some situational, but often I believe, hits us at points in our life when reality makes our fantasy view of ourselves unsustainable. The bigger the gap between fantasy and reality, the more severe the depression. No surprise then, that Sally Brampton made her living in fashion journalism, where suppressing reality is the basic currency. If you want to read about how to tackle depression, shut this damn book and read Dorothy Rowe instead.
|
|
|
www.pcprotech.co.uk | |
