In the fire, what you get is fire
You know, I think that “depression” is one of the most misleading and inadequate words in our vocabulary. When I try to describe the experience, I find myself grasping to say what it is not. Depression is not essentially about being sad, or down, or blue, though these may be symptoms. The opposite of depression is not happiness — it is “human vitality.” It can have purely physiological origins. It may be triggered by old sadnesses grown unbearable or anger turned inward, as one saying goes. But it becomes a way of being in, and moving through, the world.
I think that all of the talk about, ‘Oh, well, this time will, you know, be really good for your soul or your character, this will make a better person of you,’ feels like absolute rubbish when you’re in the midst of the wretchedness of depression. But I think that in a way it almost feels sort of physiological. If the soul were material, I think depression sort of works on it the way you could work a piece of clay, so that it softens and it becomes more malleable. It becomes wider. It becomes able to take in more. But that’s only afterward. In the fire, what you get is the fire.
And there is a poem called “Questo Muro.” It is a phrase from a passage in Dante’s Purgatory. Dante has been in the depths of depression, in the depths of the inferno, and he’s now working his way out of it toward Beatrice, who is — you know, you could call her the soul or the anima. And he and Virgil are climbing the mountain, and all of a sudden they get to a wall of fire, and you can’t go any farther unless you go through it. So this is really is a poem, I think, about finding the courage to persist, to go through that fire.
I am walking through that fire.
‘The opposite of depression is not happiness — it is “human vitality.” ‘
What a very apt way of describing the illness. I understand exactly what you mean when you say that you find it difficult to explain depression to others. I too have problems with this.
The best of luck with your journey towards health, Nathalie. Have faith that you will get there.
I am thinking of this post, and your previous one about friendship and false intimacy, and I realize that I am someone who would probably not walk through the fire. I fear pain, so to me the image of a wall of fire is a very powerful deterrent. To walk through this fear would require either incredible trust or desperation.
If that what it is truly like for someone struggling to get out of the life-sapping slough of depression, wow, it boggles my mind. And I would think the best gift at a time like that would be a friend to cover your eyes and take your hand and walk through the fire beside you.