The cure for depression.

Disclaimer: This is NOT medical advice. Please consult your doctor or a psychiatrist for professional guidance. This is simply an experience shared.

How Can We Cure Depression? Let’s Start With Other Diseases.

Before diving into how to cure depression, let’s first consider how other diseases are treated. Modern medicine plays a crucial role in fighting illnesses, and while the following is an oversimplification, it’s helpful for context. Broadly speaking, there are two types of medicines:

1. Pathogen-targeting medications – These eliminate harmful agents like bacteria (e.g., pneumonia, TB, and other infections) or viruses (e.g., COVID, the flu). Once the pathogens are controlled to a level the immune system can handle, the body can recover.
2. Symptom-relieving medications – These don’t eliminate the root cause but ease symptoms, like painkillers during childbirth or surgery, or fever reducers. By alleviating suffering, they enable the immune system to focus on recovery.

For some diseases, however, there is no definitive cure—not because recovery is impossible, but because these conditions involve pathogens evading the immune system (e.g., HIV) or issues with the body itself (e.g., cancer, type 1 diabetes, psoriasis, Parkinson’s). Ultimately, it’s still the body that heals itself, with much-needed support from medication.

What About Depression? Curing depression isn’t all that different. Many highlighted the value of therapies like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), gratitude practices, and meditation in the comments in my last article. These approaches may actually represent the “real cure.” While medication can help, it often doesn’t address the root cause. True healing happens when someone changes their thought patterns, learns to manage the mental gaps that lead to despair, and avoids the downward spiral.

In my case, I’ve experienced that transformation firsthand. Here’s an example from a recent work incident:

Last Monday morning, I asked an open question in a meeting, following the suggestion from my career coach Cindy Jensen ICF PCC . It wasn’t necessarily a bad question, but it was arguably asked at the wrong time. Thirty minutes after the meeting, my manager’s manager, Karl, who was visiting from Germany, pulled me aside and said, “We need to talk! I’ve received messages from three people about your behavior in the meeting.” Clearly frustrated, he added, “If it were just one piece of feedback, I wouldn’t be concerned, but three? You must have done something seriously wrong.”

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to discuss it right away, and our one-on-one wasn’t scheduled until the afternoon. Between meetings and other work, I had no opportunity to dwell on it—and, to my surprise, I didn’t feel the need to at all.

I wasn’t panicked, scared, or frustrated. Instead, I felt calm, confident, and even eager for our conversation. I saw it as an opportunity to clarify the situation and learn from it. The only extra thing I did? I reached out to three senior leaders from the meeting to solicit feedback—without mentioning Karl’s inquiry at all.

If this had happened before 2018 or even in 2022, I likely wouldn’t have handled it this well. I would have spiraled into self-blame and anxiety. But now? I’ve transformed.

From Cocoon to Butterfly

It’s like a metamorphosis. I’m still me, but I’m no longer the same person. The transformation process was painful, and I wouldn’t want to relive it, but I’m grateful for where I am now.

Thankfully, you don’t have to endure the same pain. A dear friend, Tiankai Feng , recently inspired me to have a new metaphor for depression, even better than my earlier comparison to a rip current. Depression, is like falling into quicksand in the desert.

The more you struggle, the deeper you sink. The right approach? Accept the situation. Stay calm. Stop fighting. Reach out for help. Someone on solid ground—a psychiatrist or psychologist—can throw you a lifeline, whether it’s therapy, medication, or both. But they can only help if you’re willing to ask.

In the long term, you can even train yourself—much like special ops soldiers—to escape quicksand using specialized techniques. However, this path is challenging and demands immense preparation. It’s similar to Alex Honold, the solo climber, who relied on plenty of safety gear while honing his skills before attempting free solo climbs.

Shifting Focus

At this point, I feel like I’ve said most of what I need to about depression. Unless something new comes up, I’ll shift my focus to broader topics like personal development and social issues.

The journey from depression is difficult, but it’s also transformative. Like escaping quicksand or emerging from a cocoon, the process may be painful, but it leads to a stronger, wiser, and more resilient self.

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11/24/2024, St. Louis