The Violence of Depression

Depression is a debilitating experience.

Depression is a thief.

And depression is violent.

There really is no quick fix or an easy solution.

But there is one thing that is constant.  

That is – that there is you.

And there is this thief.

No  matter who says what – whether it is labeled as genetic, or post traumatic, or habit.

The constant is you, and the thief.


Just think about this for a moment:

  • It steals your time.
  • It steals your energy.
  • It steals your relationships.
  • It steals your life.
  • And it robs you of any – and all joy.


Start here

If there is a starting point to deal with this thief – it is to admit that yes, I have depression, and seek professional assistance and guidance.

Do not just tell yourself that you are a bit low, or that your mother had depression, or that everyone in your social circle is depressed – and therefore it is ok.


Do not give your precious life – your life force – to a thief.


Scandal and Calling in Sherlock Holmes

At first I believed I was just a bit down. But when down becomes your normal, then you know, or sense, that you are in deep trouble.

The way depression was treated in the past, was mainly to deny its existence.

Depression was not really talked about in social circles – not even in families.

Somehow depression had this texture of scandal, as if it had woken up in the same chapter of the Ten Commandments as adultery and murder.

So it was considered, for the best, to just keep it under wraps, consult your local doctor who will prescribe you some medication.

For 2 years I was on a medication that not only was exorbitantly expensive, but that made me totally numb. Yet, I was told, that the whatever in my brain that send the good feeling vibes around, were somehow damaged. Basically that it was my fault.

But best take the pills and act normal.



As I sat in a cinema watching an apparently very sad and heart wrenching movie one random day, I realised I didn’t feel anything. No emotion. No connection. Like an empty shell, I sat there.

And that is when I walked out, straight to my best friend’s pharmacy, and told her to tell me how to get off these pills.

I did get off them and have not been on any medication for over 25 years.

I chose a different route.

I chose to feel.

To go through my emotions. To do breath work and body work and yoga. No matter what it took, I committed myself to heal and return to my joy.

And that was a super choice.

My choice into freedom and into joy.







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