On Depression as a Messenger: Lessons from My Journey

It’s no secret that therapists are human, too. Many of us have navigated our own periods of difficulty, often shaping how we show up as healers. In fact, research shows a significant number of therapists have experienced mental health challenges. A 2016 survey by the British Psychological Society revealed that nearly half of psychologists reported struggling with depression, and earlier studies suggest that depressive qualities may even enhance a therapist’s ability to connect with clients. As Ralph Greenson observed in 1967, “Therapists who have not suffered a major depression may be limited in their work as healers.”

One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned is that difficult emotions—whether in the client or the therapist—are not something to “fix” or suppress but an opportunity for growth and transformation. Depression, in particular, can be a powerful, albeit painful, teacher.

When I was deep in my own depression, my natural impulse was to escape it, to get rid of it as quickly as possible. I wanted to suppress the discomfort, to feel better and return to normal. But as I began to lean into my emotions, I encountered the teachings of John Welwood, who challenges the conventional framing of depression as a “mental illness” to be eradicated. Welwood argues that by viewing depression solely through this lens, we miss its deeper message: an invitation to connect with our soul’s truth.

“If we want to heal depression,” Welwood writes, “we need to approach it not just as an affliction but as an opportunity to free ourselves from ways of being that prevent us from living fully alive.” This perspective resonated deeply with me. Depression, I came to realize, was not merely a condition to escape but a profound signal that something in my life needed attention, alignment, and transformation.

During this time, my mornings became portals of clarity. Journaling became a sacred practice—a way to listen to the truths my depression was trying to reveal. My body and dreams began to speak louder than ever, telling me I was unhappy in my relationship. In one journal entry, I wrote: “I have been shrinking myself to fit.” Another entry, dated July 2, read: “I need to sit in the discomfort of this depression and accept myself as I am.”

This acceptance was far from easy. It required trust in the process and a willingness to descend into my darkness. Yet, as Carl Rogers reminds us: “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”

Symbols and synchronicities became guides along this journey. One morning, I pulled the Kairos card from my archetypes deck—a symbol of mythic time, synchronicity, and inner knowing. Later that day, while walking in the Oakland Hills, I encountered an owl in broad daylight. Its piercing gaze mirrored the eye on the Kairos card, and in that moment, I felt a deep, transpersonal connection. The owl, as I later read, symbolizes both death and transformation—a reminder that endings often precede renewal.

Soon after, I woke with clarity: I needed to end my relationship. Speaking this truth was terrifying but liberating. The moment I expressed it, my depression shifted into grief—a pure, unrelenting wave of emotion that allowed me to finally feel the aliveness of my heart. Underneath the depression was a sadness I had been too afraid to face, but with that sadness came a sense of fullness and authenticity I hadn’t felt in years.

Grief taught me to surrender to the vulnerability of the moment. It wasn’t just about mourning the relationship; it was about grieving the ways I had abandoned my true self to belong in a world that often felt at odds with who I was.

Jungian analyst Marion Woodman writes, “When we resist our descent, we suffer, and no lasting contact with the soul is made.” I had spent so long resisting the descent into my feelings, trying to control or avoid them, that I had lost touch with my soul. Depression, I realized, was both the wound and the messenger—a call to awaken to my truth and to realign with the wild, authentic essence of who I am.

Rather than viewing depression as a condition to eradicate, I began to see it as a guide. It was showing me where I was out of alignment and inviting me to reconnect with my inner self. The shift from trying to control my depression to approaching it with curiosity opened doors I didn’t know existed. I began to see depression not as an enemy but as a path—a difficult but necessary journey toward wholeness.

Those months of depression were terrifying, but they also initiated me into a profound transformation. They cracked me open, forcing me to face the depths of my vulnerability, and in doing so, they reconnected me with my heart and soul.

Depression, like all difficult emotions, carries a message. It is not simply something to fix or suppress but an opportunity to rediscover our true selves. In listening to its call, we can find freedom, authenticity, and a deeper connection to life and others.