The Egg: An Essay on Depression

Depression, unless it is experienced, is almost impossible to define. For some, it’s merely a chemical imbalance, the result of hormones mixing into a sort of poison in the brain, resulting in the worst type of thoughts and a comatose mood. For others, it’s a warped reaction to situations we find unpleasant or difficult, and when those chapters in our lives come to a close, we rise above our emotions and are free. Depression is not nearly so cut and dry. It’s a state of being, both mental and physical, chemical and spiritual, that brings out the best and the worst in people.

Depression feels like boxing with God – impossible to win. And it is. Depression isn’t a war that can be won or lost, it doesn’t work with the terms humans are familiar with. It’s like distilling the complex concept of “time” down into numbers like twelve or seven. When we spend every waking moment fighting, we are left angry and exhausted. Why can’t I move on from this? Why am I so alone? Why won’t anyone fight with me? That’s another thing about depression – we are alone, but not alone in the sense we’re used to. There are those who understand fragments of the complex puzzle, others with depression, people who love people with depression, trained professionals, doctors, etc. It’s like we’re inside an egg being looked after by an entire coop of chickens, all our mothers and brothers and sisters and fathers, but we’re the only ones inside the egg, we’re the only ones who know what it’s like to be inside.

So what is the inside of an egg like? First of all, it’s a whole entity. In the introduction, I explained how depression can’t be put into a box, it’s not chemical or physical, spiritual or mental, it’s complete, like how a person is complete. When only one area is treated, whether by medication alone or therapy alone, our recovery is lopsided. It needs to be treated holistically, because just as every area is affected by depression, every area is the source of the depression.

Another thing about an egg is that it’s very cramped inside. We’re surrounded by our own emotions, drowning in a sea of confusions and frightening thoughts. We forget about our loved ones outside of the egg, watching over us, and we are terrified that a fox or a dog will come and destroy us when we’re vulnerable. That fear alone can drive us off the edge and leave us hovering in hopelessness. What hope is there? We’re never coming out to the open and live like everyone else. We’re not going anywhere.

Humans, more than any other creature, have been given a talent for hope. Deep inside, we know we will come out of the egg. If we look at our lives like a story or a movie, suddenly, things become clearer. We can see themes and patterns. Our lives aren’t really spiraling out of control; it’s the fear and pain of depression that tricks us into believing it is. We’re in the egg for a reason, and when our time comes, we will emerge fully developed, strong, and full of wisdom. We know what it was like inside the egg, and lived to tell the tale.