October 2011 - Page 6 of 6 -

I’ve never struggled with depression.

Except… Oh wait. There was that time in the last semester of my first year of university when I spent a lot of time in bed. A LOT. I stayed there and didn’t want to get up, though I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Then when I was in my 20s, I got sick of feeling sad and hopeless all the time and started logging things. What I ate, exercise, weather – you name it, I put it into a carefully crafted spreadsheet, and it was all mapped against my mood. Eventually the sum of the things that made me feel better – getting enough exercise, sunlight, eating well – led me to feel better overall.

Those times, I wasn’t diagnosed with depression. I never even had a conversation with a doctor about it. I always hated that label. Oddly, though, I remember being asked to fill out a self-identification form for a previous job. “Are you a visible minority?” No. “Are you Aboriginal?” No. “Do you have a disability?” A very small voice in my head piped up. “Does depression count?” I knew it was there, though I was never willing to admit it. (I checked no.)

The excerpt above is from an essay I wrote about depression that appears in anthology called Not Alone: Stories of Living With Depression, which is now available on Amazon. (I know! On Amazon twice in one week! I’m feeling lucky.)

The book is edited by Alise Wright who, in my experience since submitting my piece for consideration, is smart, kind, and funny.

Here’s one of the endorsements for the book:

“When our journeys take us down dark and unfamiliar paths, we don’t need leaders with all the answers; we need friends with open arms. Not Alone brings together the voices of many such friends in essays that are alive with wisdom, honesty, humor, and grace. What makes this book so powerful is the diversity of the stories shared within it. No two journeys through depression are exactly the same, and yet no one needs to travel alone. What a joy it is to see such an impressive assemblage of smart, talented, and creative writers speaking words of hope into the world!” —Rachel Held Evans, popular blogger and author of Evolving in Monkey Town.

Isn’t that great? It totally makes me want to read the other stories.

I never thought I’d be writing this openly about Depression (with a capital D), but this book is about exactly what I know, since starting this blog, to be so important: making people feel less alone.

A couple of weeks ago, about halfway through a book I had agreed to review and unsure what to say about it, I did a search for other reviews. I was really interested to hear what others said, because the description of the book had appealed to me when I first read it:

“The inspiring journey of how one woman’s journey through poverty and debilitating illness catapulted her to the halls of power as a successful businesswoman… In Something Inside of Me, Chitoka [Webb] shares her poignant, funny, and inspiring life story, from her humble beginnings in the Nashville housing projects to her rise as the CEO of several companies.”

I scrolled through a handful of others’ reviews and every single one was a short summary of the plot – pretty much exactly what’s on the book’s back cover – and a sweeping statement of how inspiring the book is. And I have to be honest: it really made me wonder if those people actually read the book. Or maybe they did read it, didn’t like it, but didn’t want to publish a negative review. This perception certainly didn’t change after I contacted someone on Twitter to ask if she really liked the book. I didn’t get a response.

Part of the reason I asked is that I really wondered if perhaps I was just being too critical. But here’s the truth: I didn’t like the book.

When I see words like “poverty” and “poignant” and “inspiring” I expect to read a fairly dramatic tale. I presume the author has overcome major adversity and will write about what inspired her to push past it.

Chitoka Webb was raised by a single mother in the Nashville housing projects and admittedly didn’t have a privileged childhood. Based on her descriptions, however, I’m not sure “poverty” is an accurate description of her situation.

She did suffer an illness as an adult that caused her to lose her sight, but this side effect was temporary and she did regain it (though I in no way mean to disregard how scary that must have been).

I was hoping the story of a woman slightly younger than I who had become the CEO of several companies would redeem the hyperbole of the book’s beginning. As I kept reading, however, I realized the “companies” were businesses she started herself. The focus of the story is on a barbershop she owned and operated in Nashville.

Though I think describing this book as “inspirational” is a stretch, Webb’s spirit and character do shine through. She clearly believes in herself and has strong values as a business person. I do admire her willingness to make a go of a business she was passionate about and give her credit for focusing on providing better service than her customers could get elsewhere.

Want to read it for yourself? It’s not a long read and I’d really, genuinely be interested in hearing what you think. I was provided with two copies of the book – one to give away and the (gently used) one I read – and I’m going to give away both. You can enter via Rafflecopter below.