Recently I read Steve Pavlina’s post “What It’s Like Being Me”. Steve really enjoys being himself, it seems, and part of my reaction was a slow clap — good for you, you smug vegan, your life is so great. But on the other hand, I really like Steve and his writing has benefited me immensely over the years. He’s worked hard to develop systems to improve his life systems and states of consciousness, and I don’t actually begrudge him his positive mental state and enjoyment of life. Good for him (no sarcasm).

Steve’s take on depression did make me wonder if he understands the condition as a disease. He appears to regard depression as a poor life choice, writing that he is repulsed by depression, and that he simply chooses to not be depressed himself. I don’t want to take his words out of context, so here’s a direct quote from the post:

I don’t get depressed. Simply never. My mind stays focused on the positive – on inspiring ideas, engaging people, action steps, interesting projects, creative explorations, etc.

I used to get depressed sometimes when I was younger, but I put a stop to that.

I decided a long time ago that depression is a stupid waste of life and that it was critical to defend against the slime pit of depression, self-doubt, and other downer modes of experience. Otherwise it becomes a trap where one can lose years of precious life. I regard depression as a nasty neural pattern – a mental and emotional virus – so I did what was necessary to ensure that my mind just doesn’t go there anymore. I felt that was one of the early personal development battles where I had to win a decisive victory. So this is a virus to which I’ve built a very strong immunity.

There were lots of pieces to this – cleaning up my diet (zero animal products); regular exercise that I enjoy; dropping misaligned people; committing to meaningful and fulfilling creative work; saying no to partial matches; and creating a life rich in intimacy, warmth, and affection.

This attitude appears to ignore or gloss over the organic side of depression, that it’s a brain disease involving inflammation, physical trauma (from concussions or shock waves), membrane permeability, and neurotransmitter production and regulation, some of these factors having strong genetic components. All kinds of things can injure the brain and trigger depression: car accidents, IED explosions, childhood trauma and abuse. I think it’s important that we don’t blame people for being depressed, or frame it as something that anyone can easily resolve with the right attitude and diet choices.

On the other hand, Steve’s take is that he focuses on aspects of mental health that he can control (diet, exercise, relationships, life purpose, and thought patterns), and that’s a great approach. If he’s conquered depression for himself, good for him (again, no sarcasm).

Personally, I haven’t completely conquered depression, and I don’t regard that as a personal failing. It’s just a card I’ve been dealt in my less than perfect set of genetic and environmental factors (including a number of childhood and early adulthood concussions from soccer, Taekwondo sparring, bike accidents, skateboard accidents, and a few fistfights). Usually my day-to-day state of consciousness is pretty good. I feel happy and joyful fairly often. But when life throws me a curveball, I sometimes react with a stress spiral that damages my mental state, leeching the joy out of life and leaving me bleak, anxious, and unmotivated. Why do I sometimes react this way? I assume it’s a combination of genetic factors, mild brain injuries, and my own cognitive habits. I don’t blame myself for sometimes getting depressed, but I do take full responsibility.

And we’ve all lived through some interesting times, haven’t we (those of us who are still alive)? The election of Trump and other far-right leaders, the ongoing pandemic, gun violence in schools and malls, economic chaos, devastating climate change–the past six years have been rough in many ways, especially for us sensitive liberal types who value human rights, public health, and ecological conservation. If world events combined with whatever problems you have in your personal life haven’t damaged your mental health, I commend you for your resilience. You’re a rare bird.

I would like to be more mentally resilient. Like anyone else, I have tools I use to maintain and improve my mood and cognitive state. I rely on physical exercise, a more-or-less Mediterranean diet low in processed foods, nutritional and herbal supplements, meditation, practicing gratitude and acceptance. I’ve written about these tools before (see posts linked below).

So Is Depression a Choice?

I’ve just said it isn’t, haven’t I? We don’t choose our genetics, and even the most careful person can get a concussion doing normal household tasks. Jane McGonigal has written and discussed her long recovery process from a severe concussion that resulted from standing up too quickly and hitting her head on a cabinet door.

But staying depressed, not doing anything to change our state, that is a choice. Reading Steve’s post inspired me to think about depression in a more precise way. What is depression, exactly, for me? I associate being depressed with the following states and/or behaviors:

  • rumination
  • paralysis
  • distraction
  • addiction
  • resentment
  • isolation

This is obviously looking at depression on a different abstraction level than the cellular/molecular level. Some treatments address depression and other mood disorders on the molecular/cellular level (supplements, medications, improving sleep/diet/exercise). But what precise mental and life actions (outside of the biochemical) can I take to counteract and remedy the six aspects of my depression I identified above?

This is a work in progress, but here’s what I have so far:

1. Action plan and acceptance is a choice against rumination.

Rumination is circular thought leading to increasing anxiety and helplessness. It’s similar to worrying, but I consider worrying to be helpful sometimes. To some extent worrying is adaptive, in the sense of considering negative outcomes and how I might avoid them, or what I might do if those outcomes occur. But it’s maladaptive to endlessly rehash what I could have done differently, or to strain my mind to control every possible outcome.

I can reduce my ruminative thoughts by coming up with a clear action plan to address my problems, and then focusing on accepting the things I can’t control (for example, everything that has already happened in the past, what other people are thinking and the decisions they will make, world events completely beyond my control, etc.).

2. Progress is a choice against paralysis.

For me this means taking any kind of action toward my goals. Even if I don’t know if a particular course of action will yield positive results, taking any kind of action begins the iterative process that I associate with progress. And having a sense of progress is what lifts my mood.

3. Creative work is a choice against distraction.

I define distraction as any kind of low-value activity that provides mental stimulation. This could be watching TV, scrolling through reddit or Twitter posts, or playing videogames. How do I distinguish distraction from having an artistic experience (reading a great novel, for example)? It’s fairly simple: does the activity make me feel better or worse? More alive and connected or more numb/empty? For example, this year I’m giving up both reddit and playing chess online, because those activities were consistently falling into the distraction category for me (though I do hope to come back to chess in a more conscious way someday).

The alternative choice for me is any kind of creative work, including hobbies. Painting miniatures, for example, provides mental stimulation, but doesn’t leave me feeling zoned out and drained the way scrolling through social media sometimes can. This kind of creative work is especially relaxing because I’m not aspiring to become a great miniature painter. It’s just a hobby I enjoy.

4. Self care is a choice against addiction.

Pretty self-explanatory. A personal example: over the years I’ve realized that even moderate drinking is destructive for me, reducing my cognitive strength and worsening my sleep. So I’m transitioning to becoming a very light drinker (0-3 drinks a week), or possibly a non-drinker. I’m taking all of January off (no alcohol), and I may take all of 2023 off, which would be my longest stretch of non-drinking in approximately twenty years.

So what do I replace that daily glass or two of wine with? Healthier drinks: water, kombucha, Golden Milk, beet juice, etc. Just one aspect of self care.

5. Communication is a choice against resentment.

Again, fairly self-explanatory. Resentment is toxic, and I do my best to express when I’m feeling resentful (if there’s a valid reason) or to identify the feeling as a form of self-pity and let go of it.

6. Connection is a choice against isolation.

As an introvert, I need alone time to process my thoughts and to feel at peace. But I consistently underestimate how much positive social interaction I need in order to thrive. Spending time with people I love and trust always bolsters my mood, even if the interaction is relatively superficial. But it’s also important to share my problems and bare my soul occasionally, to feel that my friends and family are there for me (and that I am for them).

Empowering Action is the Alternative to Depression

In my own personal self-help system, I classify those individual choices under the rubric of empowering action. That’s essentially what I need to remember when feelings of bleakness, hopelessness, joylessness, and anxiety begin to creep in. I can identify the mental and behavioral patterns that are contributing to those pathologies, and do something to disrupt and realign my state.

Related posts:

Mental Health Plan for Wildfires-Pandemic-Trumpocalypse

Brain Renewal Protocol

Quality of Consciousness