The Volcanic Nature of Depression

Depression has felt volcanic at times. It may lie relatively dormant for some time, while its lava and force are constantly shielded beneath the tectonic plates. Without warning, it then forces its way through, plunging the mind into a riot of irrational thoughts that discombobulate and terrify. And I just don’t see it coming. There may not be a specific catalyst or trigger at all. Or perhaps, to be more accurate, there may be no apparent catalyst, even after I wrack my brains to retrace my mental steps.

The power of human memory is astonishing – smells, sounds, songs or circumstances can evoke a past moment, which in turn can provoke a long-forgotten feeling, especially if it has a downward trajectory. Strangely enough, people nearby may not notice much outward change, especially if the mask is still intact. I’ll come to that.

But I’ll be caught out by an eruption of psychological pain. It feels like sudden grief and despair without an immediately obvious loss. Or it might manifest as uncontrollable anxiety and dread. There might have been occasional hints that this was coming, but nothing to prepare one for the eruption. Of course, if there are external factors and triggers, then it is all the worse for that. But even if there is an escape route from these, there is no escaping one’s own mind. Just the potential of that dormant havoc is scary enough.