Peaks and troughs: digging your way out of the hole of depression

In preparation to write this post, I Googled “troughs of depression” to look for a nice diagram. This yielded a lot of stuff about the business cycle: inflation, GDP, booms and busts, all things I’ve not paid much mind to since my brief dalliance as a hopeful economist at uni. Although a trough of depression in the economic sense is quite topical at present, this post will instead focus on the other, equally un-fun type of depression. .

1 in 7 of us will deal with depression in our lifetime. When it hits, it stars persistently low mood, backed up by an alternating cast of interrupted sleep (2am-3am wakeup is a classic calling card), fatigue, irritability, increases or decreases in appetite, feelings of worthlessness, poor concentration, and/or suicidal thoughts. Men often experience anger or find themselves abusing alcohol or drugs, and I’ve noticed a growing number of younger guys seem to struggle with online gambling whilst depressed.

For some who deal with depression, their darkest patches will see them unable to get out of bed. For others, they might push on with everyday life whilst feeling either terrible pain or complete numbness inside. Neither has it worse - it just looks different.

How to treat it? This is how it was explained to me by someone who trained me, and it’s stuck with me. When you have the flu, the best thing to do is rest in bed and wait to feel better before you get up and back into the rest of your life. Depression isn’t like that. In fact, the exact opposite is called for: getting up, and engaging in things that give you pleasure or a sense of achievement. Even when you feel like nothing could be worse.

Picture depression like this: you can be going along through life, things are on an even keel and your mood is pretty much okay. Suddenly, you fall into a pit. This pit might have been triggered by some sort of stress, or it might just be a random sinkhole that’s opened up in the middle of your suburban street out of absolutely nowhere. You’ll stay in the pit for some time (days or weeks or months), but eventually you’ll emerge from it. This will see you come up back up to the level of okayness.

You are allowed, and indeed, should, let yourself feel whatever it is you feel when you’re down there. But then you need to aim to find a shovel to start to dig your own way out. Or figure out how to construct your own ladder (I’m not an engineer - but hopefully you get the picture). The more you practice this and get help with this from a partner, friends, parents, or therapist, the easier you’ll find it. The pits may never disappear completely. But over time, you’ll find that the pits you encounter become fewer and farther between. And the time you’re in them when they do show up will be more brief.

Pits and troughs of depression - hopefully you fall into them less often over time. Please enjoy my high-level graphics skills.

I’m aware this can be interpreted to sound cold, and I do not want to give the impression that a) depression is the result of a pessimistic perspective (lighten up!) or b) going for a jog will cure you (!). Not in the least. Depression is a complex and often chronic disorder, and I am always curious as to the family history, trauma, and life experiences that make a person vulnerable to it. However, I do think it is vital that people dealing with this can feel empowered to begin to manage their depression.

The Centre for Clinical Interventions is a brilliant website with some self-help worksheets that I use most days in my work. You could start here to begin figuring out what tools you need in your belt to deal with your own pits of depression.

If you have been seeking treatment for a while and know this stuff, yet find yourself repeatedly stuck, perhaps you might consider: is there a level of comfort there that makes it difficult to leave? After all, if you’ve dealt with depression for years, there is a familiarity to being in a trough. In a strange way, the thought of being somewhere else can actually feel uncertain, even terrifying for some. That’s not crazy - but something to consider, and perhaps to talk to a therapist about.