Depression, osteoporosis, serotonin and cell membrane viscosity between biology and philosophical anthropology

Memory is not a place of filing and storage of data geographically placed in our brain, because the brain is not merely a 'bundle of neurons' vivisected in a laboratory. It is in fact the 'condition of possibility' of an integral being, of an organism having continuously interacting levels: from the most elementary conatus sese conservandi to the feeling of life [1].The conscience, as individual expression, full of phenomena and meaning, originating from its biological roots, considers memory as the most authentic figure of life and death, or rather the original picture of tragedy that has always lived in us.'Consider the cattle, grazing as they pass you by. They do not know what is meant by yesterday or today, they leap about, eat, rest, digest, leap about again, and so from morn till night and from day to day, fettered to the moment and its pleasure or displeasure, and thus neither melancholy nor bored. This is a hard sight for a man to see; for, though he thinks himself better than the animals because he is human, he cannot help envying them their happiness - what they have, a life neither bored nor painful, is precisely what he wants, yet he cannot have it because he refuses to be like an animal'.This powerful consideration by Nietzsche, taken from one of his most meaningful works On the Use and Abuse of History for Life [2], recalls that tragedy is the element that marks unequivocally our life in the world, together with memory that obsessively reminds man how his openness to things is characterised by a completeness and a happiness that, as Jankélévítch said, occurs in the world as lightning event [3].In short, happiness appears to us as a transitory event, almost like a furtive gift of the gods, where pain seems to live in us as a usual condition. Man is an ill animal, as much as he is 'open to the meaning' as projects embodied in the world, and, at the same time, he is inevitably struck by pain and, above all, by death, that is the implosion of every meaning