Why Women Are More Depressed Than Men

[merithyn]

if a woman wants a professional career and doesn't want the added responsibility of taking care of the home, she can either (1) find a partner who will take care of those responsibilities, or (2) pay others to perform those services

Easier said than done.

I guess we could just expect less productivity from women in the workplace in exchange for them doing stuff at home?

Alternatively, we can expect more productivity at home from men.

[frunk]

Not sure how I can do more than 100% of them.  I guess I could throw some clean ones into the dishwasher

You could get a machine to dirty them for you.  Some sort of Kritical Infinitesimal Drudge.

[The Brain]

Corset construction to achieve the preferred silhouette was drastically different for women in the late 1900s than even the mid-1900s. And there was a huge difference between what was worn by middle and upper class city women than lower class or country women. I've actually got two books on this very topic, if you're interested.

Also, you'd be wrong. MOST people made their own clothes still in the late 1900s, and they did, indeed, use steel boning in their corsets. But chances are that your ancestors didn't lace them nearly as tightly as the "fashionable" women in the cities did, who also happened to be the most regular "fainters".

And my homemade pants were GLORIOUS.

[merithyn]

I want to point something out here.

I'm not talking about physical work. Most men that I know do easily as much - and sometimes more - housework than their wives. I'm talking about deciding what needs to be done when and by whom. Even the men that I know that do a lot of the work around the house rely on their wives to give them a "honey-do" list. They often even rely on their wives to make the decisions on how to do things, too.

Now, a lot of women bring them on themselves, myself included. We have certain ways that we like things and we've made it clear that our way is the only "right way". We set their expectations and demand (rarely request) that things be done to those specifications. This leads to a situation where the husbands are afraid to make a suggestion or to try to do things their own ways. It's just easier to go along with her, and to let her direct things.

Personally, I think that's a shitty way to have a relationship. I'm particular, but I try really hard not to be so particular that no one else in the house has a voice. In fact, I'm learning (and it's a process) to just accept that someone is washing the dishes, and not tell them how to do it. I learned this because I was realizing that I was making ALL of the decisions in the house, and it was wearing me down. I used to do the same thing at the office, and my male boss allowed me to. It was easier to just let me take the reigns, so he did. (Not just me, by the way. There's another woman in the office who's very similar only more so, and it isn't uncommon for her to make all the decisions and him to just go along so he doesn't have to deal with it.)

My point is that for whatever reason - probably something of our own doing or something that we've learned at our mothers' knees - women tend to take over the responsibilities of getting things done, and men allow it. It's an unhealthy scenario for both genders.

[LaCroix]

Agreed. And women with partners who are equal partners in the decision-making, household chores, and otherwise act as adults instead of expecting their wives to drive the bus 24-7 are generally happier.

Of course, anecdotally, there are more women looking for that type of partner than there are partners willing to be equal partners with their wives.

anecdotally, a number of people pick partners with whom they aren't compatible. if a local, rural environment raised most women to be traditional stay-at-home moms and most men to be traditional breadwinners, and a woman wants a different type of man and is unable to find it in her area, she can look elsewhere. there are plenty of environments that raise nontraditional types.

[The Brain]

Agreed. And women with partners who are equal partners in the decision-making, household chores, and otherwise act as adults instead of expecting their wives to drive the bus 24-7 are generally happier.

Of course, anecdotally, there are more women looking for that type of partner than there are partners willing to be equal partners with their wives.

anecdotally, a number of people pick partners with whom they aren't compatible. if a local, rural environment raised most women to be traditional stay-at-home moms and most men to be traditional breadwinners, and a woman wants a different type of man and is unable to find it in her area, she can look elsewhere. there are plenty of environments that raise nontraditional types.

Now those men no longer have to marry women though.

[LaCroix]

I want to point something out here.

I think you've described control freaks vs. non-control freaks. I don't think there's anything more to it.

[LaCroix]

Now those men no longer have to marry women though.

[Valmy]

Corset construction to achieve the preferred silhouette was drastically different for women in the late 1900s than even the mid-1900s. And there was a huge difference between what was worn by middle and upper class city women than lower class or country women. I've actually got two books on this very topic, if you're interested.

Also, you'd be wrong. MOST people made their own clothes still in the late 1900s, and they did, indeed, use steel boning in their corsets. But chances are that your ancestors didn't lace them nearly as tightly as the "fashionable" women in the cities did, who also happened to be the most regular "fainters".

I think you mean the 1800s unless I really missed something about late 1900s America

I am actually quite interested in the topic. I read a bit about this and other women's health issues back in college and I just remembered the corset thing was particularly controversial. I have always had a thing for really serious research into the lives of the people and their issues.

[Valmy]

I think you've described control freaks vs. non-control freaks. I don't think there's anything more to it.

Well that is certainly part of it but I think there is definitely an expectation that the men are supposed to be subservient about the home stuff. Or, perhaps, was such an expectation.

[LaCroix]

Well that is certainly part of it but I think there is definitely an expectation that the men are supposed to be subservient about the home stuff. Or, perhaps, was such an expectation.

We have certain ways that we like things and we've made it clear that our way is the only "right way".

this is a general behavior that's not specific to either gender. members of both genders have this. some guys go crazy when another guy grills "incorrectly," etc.

[Valmy]

this is a general behavior that's not specific to either gender. members of both genders have this. some guys go crazy when another guy grills "incorrectly," etc.

Wait your example is grilling?

[LaCroix]

I don't understand your confusion.

some types, regardless of gender, obsess over "their way" in whatever area. meri's complaint seems to have been that women are particularly controlling at home and at work because men are expected to just let women do their thing. I don't think this is true. I think some members of both genders are more controlling or less controlling based on whatever factors that are irrelevant to gender.

[Malthus]

Corset construction to achieve the preferred silhouette was drastically different for women in the late 1900s than even the mid-1900s. And there was a huge difference between what was worn by middle and upper class city women than lower class or country women. I've actually got two books on this very topic, if you're interested.

Also, you'd be wrong. MOST people made their own clothes still in the late 1900s, and they did, indeed, use steel boning in their corsets. But chances are that your ancestors didn't lace them nearly as tightly as the "fashionable" women in the cities did, who also happened to be the most regular "fainters".

I think you mean the 1800s unless I really missed something about late 1900s America

I am actually quite interested in the topic. I read a bit about this and other women's health issues back in college and I just remembered the corset thing was particularly controversial. I have always had a thing for really serious research into the lives of the people and their issues.

Heh, if your read 19th century books, people in general "fainted" more than they do now in response to emotional trauma (usually being revived with 'smelling salts' or brandy).

Look for example at the stories of A. Conan Doyle. In The Empty House Watson faints when Holmes appears 'back from the dead':

I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.

"My dear Watson," said the well-remembered voice, "I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected."

I gripped him by the arm.

"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awful abyss?"

The same thing happened in Lot 249 - to two different characters:

There was no return of the singular sound, and Smith was about to turn to his work once more, when suddenly there broke out in the silence of the night a hoarse cry, a positive scream--the call of a man who is moved and shaken beyond all control. Smith sprang out of his chair and dropped his book. He was a man of fairly firm fibre, but there was something in this sudden, uncontrollable shriek of horror which chilled his blood and pringled in his skin. Coming in such a place and at such an hour, it brought a thousand fantastic possibilities into his head. Should he rush down, or was it better to wait? He had all the national hatred of making a scene, and he knew so little of his neighbour that he would not lightly intrude upon his affairs. For a moment he stood in doubt and even as he balanced the matter there was a quick rattle of footsteps upon the stairs, and young Monkhouse Lee, half dressed and as white as ashes, burst into his room.

  "Come down!" he gasped. "Bellingham's ill."

  Abercrombie Smith followed him closely down stairs into the sitting-room which was beneath his own, and intent as he was upon the matter in hand, he could not but take an amazed glance around him as he crossed the threshold. It was such a chamber as he had never seen before--a museum rather than a study. Walls and ceiling were thickly covered with a thousand strange relics from Egypt and the East. Tall, angular figures bearing burdens or weapons stalked in an uncouth frieze round the apartments. Above were bull-headed, stork-headed, cat-headed, owl-headed statues, with viper-crowned, almond-eyed monarchs, and strange, beetle-like deities cut out of the blue Egyptian lapis lazuli. Horus and Isis and Osiris peeped down from every niche and shelf, while across the ceiling a true son of Old Nile, a great, hanging-jawed crocodile, was slung in a double noose.

  In the centre of this singular chamber was a large, square table, littered with papers, bottles, and the dried leaves of some graceful, palm-like plant. These varied objects had all been heaped together in order to make room for a mummy case, which had been conveyed from the wall, as was evident from the gap there, and laid across the front of the table. The mummy itself, a horrid, black, withered thing, like a charred head on a gnarled bush, was lying half out of the case, with its clawlike hand and bony forearm resting upon the table. Propped up against the sarcophagus was an old yellow scroll of papyrus, and in front of it, in a wooden armchair, sat the owner of the room, his head thrown back, his widely-opened eyes directed in a horrified stare to the crocodile above him, and his blue, thick lips puffing loudly with every expiration.

  "My God! he's dying!" cried Monkhouse Lee distractedly.

  He was a slim, handsome young fellow, olive-skinned and dark-eyed, of a Spanish rather than of an English type, with a Celtic intensity of manner which contrasted with the Saxon phlegm of Abercombie Smith.

  "Only a faint, I think," said the medical student. "Just give me a hand with him. You take his feet. Now on to the sofa. Can you kick all those little wooden devils off? What a litter it is! Now he will be all right if we undo his collar and give him some water. What has he been up to at all?"

And again:

The heavy gate had swung into place behind him, but he heard it dash open again before his pursuer. As he rushed madly and wildly through the night, he could hear a swift, dry patter behind him, and could see, as he threw back a glance, that this horror was bounding like a tiger at his heels, with blazing eyes and stringy arms out-thrown. Thank God, the door was ajar. He could see the thin bar of light which shot from the lamp in the hall. Nearer yet sounded the clatter from behind. He heard a hoarse gurgling at his very shoulder. With a shriek he flung himself against the door, slammed and bolted it behind him, and sank half-fainting on to the hall chair.

"My goodness, Smith, what's the matter?" asked Peterson, appearing at the door of his study.

  "Give me some brandy!"

  Peterson disappeared, and came rushing out again with a glass and a decanter.

  "You need it," he said, as his visitor drank off what he poured out for him. "Why, man, you are as white as a cheese."

  Smith laid down his glass, rose up, and took a deep breath.

  "I am my own man again now," said he. "I was never so unmanned before. But, with your leave, Peterson, I will sleep here to-night, for I don't think I could face that road again except by daylight. It's weak, I know, but I can't help it."

These days, it would be odd for someone to faint from surprise or shock - man or woman. In those stories, it is considered a perfectly normal occurrence.

Corseting may explain why women fainted more, but it can't explain why men fainted more.

My guess: it was at least in part merely a literary convention.

[Valmy]

Yeah I was going to say something about this. Theatrical fainting was pretty common among men at the time if you believe the stories