Why so much anxiety and depression?

The push and shove of pandemics, vaccine roll-outs, and government mandates is unsettling. Even when things seem vaguely to be going on as normal, somewhere in our bellies and in our limbic systems, there is recognition of a loss of certainty and control over our lives. This is not always entirely conscious. This is typically an autonomic nervous system response that threatens to throw us into fight, flight or freeze modes more quickly than we realise.

At the time of the Christchurch earthquakes, there were very obvious stress responses in people that were due to the acute events: they provoked the autonomic response. What was less expected were the deeper, longer-lasting stresses and traumas, previously forgotten, now shaken to the surface. These were sometimes decades old: they too were from the autonomic nervous response. They threatened to over-run medical services.

 Anxiety and depression levels in teenagers and young adults today (youngsters at the time of the earthquakes) are at significant levels. Something in the current pandemic stress appears to be triggering previous “trauma memory”. Yet, we cannot deny that the pandemic, in its own right, is also affecting all of us to some degree. Humans have faced plagues and disasters throughout their existence. Are we as mentally resilient as we used to be?

“Resilience” is a much over-used term, and there have been many opinions about what it is and how to get it. Nevertheless, I’m going to look at a brief history of recent times that suggests that humans could be doing better than before in the resilience stakes.

Historians and theologians are quick to point out how bad the Enlightenment and Modernity were for Christian faith. This was a time when humans, to cite Star-Trek, were going boldly and confidently “where no-one had gone before”. This confidence and positivity, however, especially in scientific endeavours, meant that there was much about the emotional and relational side of the human-makeup that was left unexplored. In which case, according to these historians and theologians, humans deep-inside were actually getting more fearful and anxious, not less. They were especially afraid of lives being disrupted, and of being homeless.[1] For all their ambitious bluster, humans were “emperors with no clothes”.

Now with post-modernism and what is called meta-modernism come along, there is perhaps less of a stable core strength inside us than in previous centuries. We have become lost in too many external “things.” We have become dependent on them, and they dominate and control our sense of security. The worst of these is our consumer-society. But it could be any number of other things: over-focus on careers, property, social media, sports, money, politicians (presidents), and so on. They become our hand-holds for a sense of lost security, meaning and purpose. Our collective identity is then always at risk of triggering the autonomic nervous system when these things let us down, and we lose trust in them. This is a route to increased anxiety and depression.

What do external “things” do? They distract us from connecting with our inner selves … and being content and present in meditation or with God. The result: increased triggered anxiety and depression that doesn’t let us think clearly. We rush for quick answers, and can’t find our way to more permanent meaning and purpose. How, then, do we recover a more peace-filled “inner” identity?

The key is to be able to find a way to “sit” quietly and “detox” from the external things we have got used to. This is easier said than done. If we are anxious and bordering on depression because of stressful events (like pandemics), then we will have difficulty settling down the autonomic nervous system response. We will find it hard to just “sit”: that will appear to be doing nothing!

So, according to the experts, the key to “sitting quietly” is first to be able to sit with (and tolerate) other people. We need people who can sooth, empathise, and resonate with us.[2] Resonance is:

The experience of sensing that another being fully understands and sees us with emotional warmth and generosity. It is the sense that we know that they could try on our skin and that our feelings and longings would make sense to them.[3] 

These are the Good Samaritans of this world: they help guide us to a resting-place within ourselves. When someone resonates with us, we can learn to resonate and be at peace with our inner selves. That’s quite a trick!  But only then can we successfully reflect on, analyse, and imagine a meaningful future.

Theologian Walter Brueggemann calls this “hopeful imagination”. It is the kind of imagination that gets used to quiet truth rather than external “artificial facts.” This is what builds up resilience. It also happens to be at the heart of a counselling therapy called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). Our HeartSpace course is a big fan of ACT!

[1] Susan Bordo, The Flight to Objectivity: Essays on Cartesianism and Culture (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987), 104. Also see Walter Brueggemann, Texts Under Negotiation: The Bible and Postmodern Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 17.

[2] Sarah Peyton, Your Resonant Self: Guided Meditations and Exercises to Engage Your Brain’s Capacity for Healing (New York: Norton, 2016). Peyton is a neuroscience educator with a lived experience of trauma. See: https://sarahpeyton.com/meet-sarah/

[3] Peyton, Your Resonant Self, 16.