Here’s a comforting thought: a third of America says they’ve felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

Frankly, the number seems a little low. 

 Got on the tollway at rush hour lately and seen two-thirds sanity? Been politely waved over as you’re trying to merge?  If someone waves you over usually means they’re pissed at having been cut off right before the tollbooth and they’re just refocusing prior to coming to ramming speed. 

Just where can you find this two-thirds sanity?  Take the local 7-11. The Indian clerk starts screaming  ”one at a time” as the five pre-teens try to walk in. The pre-teens profanely start objecting, barging in together anyway. Clerk starts coming around the counter, while one preteen grabs the gum rack and dumps it on the floor, as the rest leave hooting and hollering, running past the family of five in the van, who’re cleaning their garbage out into the parking lot three feet from a trash can. The smelly, ragged guy next in line mutters into his hands, upset because he’s had to wait to give his last ten bucks to the State of Illinois for a square piece of paper with some numbers on it. You buy a pack of Camel Lights for $8.10.  No two-thirds there. 

Typical examples of the insanity bred by our society. We live in the most affluent society in history. The trade-off is a third of the populace treads the line of mental meltdown, where they don’t feel they can carry on, at least according to a recent survey in this American Psychologist. 

Stress, anxiety, and depression are cited as the factors most contributing to these potential meltdowns
But, of course. What else would cause you to feel like you couldn’t continue to function? 

The stress of everyday life – parenting, caretaking, the professional pressure to succeed, a societal status to maintain, financial obligations, etc. – lead to anxiety one will come up deficient and depression soon follows when the inevitability strikes. That’s when the short circuit occurs.  

The surprise isn’t that a third of the populace feels near the breaking point; the surprise is the percentage is so significant and the symptoms so unaddressed. We use band-aid solutions. Chemotherapy is popular: Prozac, Zoloft, and Valium.  Prop ‘em up and numb ‘em long enough to send ‘em out again. Or a weekly session with the shrink (Who really is about as much of a doctor as bloodletters in the Middle Ages; mostly, they couldn’t hack Medical School and bailed straight into psych because of its subjectivity and difficulty proving malpractice.), who just wants to talk about Mother.  You’d get better advice from your best friend for free: slow down and roll on the floor with the dog. 

 Life isn’t about what you possess or how many people know your name. It’s more about greeting a new day with anticipation, about never stopping learning, about being able to sit on the deck, appreciating the shadows the setting sun makes through the branches of the trees in the grove, while the squirrels chase the twilight.  Unfortunately, America has lost sight of those things. 

The country of Bhutan in Asia measures its success in Gross National Happiness (How the measurement is quantified is unclear, but that’s not the point).  Unfortunately, we measure our success as a nation in Gross National Product - how many hours were billed, how many deals were made, and how big the bottom line – causing Gross National Insanity.  

American’s don’t even know what makes them happy. Most of what would be pointed to --- money, notoriety, achievement – is what’s responsible for the soul crushing.