Outlasting Depression: What Makes it Difficult and Why You Should Do It Anyway.

The Illusion of Control and and the Harm in Constant Prevention.

This essay is part of a four part series titled, “Why it’s Difficult and Why You Should do it Anyway”, which draws from the work of philosophers and artists, applying their ideas to the quieter, less visible aspects of TRANSITION. If you enjoy reading, I encourage you to read the series in it’s entirety which can be found here. Also, The TRANSITION is not medical advice. If you require diagnosis or treatment for a mental or physical issue or illness, please seek it from a licensed professional.

When despair follows circumstance, it feels acceptable, logical even.

When the opposite is true, when you find yourself in a downward trend with no correlation to the world around you - that's something different. Something more painful.

When that is true, you might start to question existential topics - the character you call "self" and how much interest you have in being that character. The tide of indifference rises and the places you usually turn to for joy become increasingly out of reach.

Perhaps someone else will name it before you do. Other times, you go through the motions, trying what's worked in the past - exercise, maybe a drink - and when nothing lands, you finally admit what it is.

To many, a depressive episode can sound like a run of bad days. But it isn't that. It’s a change in the colors of life. A greyness that visits for a day, sometimes three.

You work hard at prevention. Stack the deck such that all of this happens less often. You find peace that way. Progress.

And when a season passes in depression's absence, you're encouraged - you claim victory.

From there, you likely spend even more time on prevention - pursuing better, more effective strategies. You become informed on the latest research, you consider prescription medication, red-light panels, mood trackers, and research psychedelic retreats.

All of it an effort to outmaneuver. Inputs and routines. Stacking sandbags around a house as if it might persuade the next storm to strike elsewhere.

What if, in our pursuit of preventing the next storm, those sandbags eventually become something which hold water in? Prolonging, even increasing the damage the next storm brings?

Philosopher and poet David Whyte, in his ten volumes of poetry and countless essays, suggests that much of life, "Despair" included, be observed as a season - not intended to be conquered, but passed through.

Rather than a solution, Whyte suggests something of a reframe in how we respond to depression. Less clinical, less preventable - more an outcome of our failure to allow the seasons of life to pass through us.

"Despair," he writes, "Turns to depression and abstraction when we try to make it stay beyond its appointed season and start to shape our identity around its frozen disappointments… When the season is allowed to turn, despair cannot survive."

From "The Blessing of the Morning Light," I take away the idea that rather than prevention and avoidance, perhaps we accept and observe - reimagine "despair as a difficult, but a beautiful necessary” - that with each passing season, new light, and a new form presents itself.

"We take the first steps out of despair by taking on its full weight and coming fully to ground in our wish not to be here. We let our bodies and we let our world breathe again. In that place, strangely, despair cannot do anything but change into something else, into some other season."

I don’t blame anyone for questioning the practicality of this reframing. The promise of eventual spring means very little when you're shivering - stuck in a snowstorm.

What we can do, however, is apply Whyte's views to our understanding of future storms. Accept that, despite all prevention, the next season of darkness, the next storm will likely visit, and in trying to control it, we may very well prolong its duration.

With less control and more observation, it’s possible, depression begins to leave a different mark. One we can derive value from. Refinement, re-ordering - a clearer sense of what is true.

Observing, rather than relentless avoidance provides a new perspective and perhaps best of all, alters our view of future storms. Lessens severity.

These seasons, while deeply painful, provide realizations that very often lead to TRANSITION. Clarity and increased conviction when it comes to careers, relationships, and the way we choose to exist in life.

For many, episodic depression won't be something you ever prevent or outmaneuver. But they can be outlasted.

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Whyte, D. (2014). Consolations: The solace, nourishment and underlying meaning of everyday words. Many Rivers Press.