A story from a psychotherapy consultation about an unusual but common reason for depression.

*The event is actual, but the characters appearing are altered. The text is, of course, much shorter than the event itself.

Introduction…

“I’m not here for myself,” the woman in front of me said.

People often come to consultations to improve someone else, and you know what? I agree to start from there. This way, we skip the entire part where I explain that a psychotherapist/consultant cannot influence a person who hasn’t even sought help. I prefer to begin the conversation from the point the person desires, then search for solutions that, whether they like it or not, involve them sitting in front of me.

“But who are you here for?”

“For my mother. She’s in total depression.”

“Hmm. Tell me a bit about it.”

The woman sitting in front of me today was quite beautiful, well-groomed, and well-dressed in her late forties. All the colors of her clothes were light, from white to beige. She had a perfect manicure and subtle jewelry on her hands.

“My mother lives with me, and she’s been in complete depression for two years. But now, I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what to do with her or how to explain how good her life is.”

“Two years of depression?”

“Yes. Or with depressive symptoms; I don’t know how that differs. In any case, for two years, the only thing she wanted to do all day was walk the dog. Besides, she just moves around the apartment listlessly and doesn’t know what to do with herself. If that’s not depression, I don’t know what is.”

“Did something specific happen two years ago that she couldn’t cope with?”

“Well, she moved in with me. And now it sounds like I’m making her depressed. But believe me, I’m providing her with such a good life that she could never afford. I work in science at the institute and as a consultant at several universities, which means I earn well. I bought myself a beautiful apartment on the riverbank a few years ago. The apartment is large and very nice. I mean, we’re not cramped together in one room. I also leave her alone and have no demands on her except to cheer her up… And as I said, I earn enough to afford her anything she wants. But she doesn’t want anything.”

“And how did you start living together two years ago?”

The woman paused and thought for a second. It seems my curiosity was diverting the conversation in a direction she didn’t want. This is a common occurrence in psychotherapy and even more common in consultations because people want to solve their current, urgent situation, not look for its root. Especially if that root is something they’d rather not revisit.

“My mother divorced my father and moved in with me.”

So, you’re around 47–48 years old. Your mother moved in with you two years ago. This means she spent at least 45 years, probably more, with your father. Why would someone get divorced after 45 years and immediately fall into depression? Maybe your mother fell in love with someone else? Or was the problem with your father?

“And I must point out that it’s not just me taking care of my mother but also my older sister.”

The sister could be at least a year older, which makes it 46 years of living with the father. *If you’ve ever wondered how a psychologist’s brain works.

“My sister comes to our place every day, and we have dedicated ourselves to our mother as much as we can, considering that we both work.”

“Alright. Can we go back to your mother’s divorce and her moving in with you? How did that happen?”

Father and marriage…

“My mother didn’t have a good life with my father. She spent all her years with him because she married him at age twenty. He was six years older than her, so she didn’t even know anything better. He was her first and only love. She had never been with any other man before or after him. He was literally her life.” She looked at me meaningfully.

“Not only that”, she continued. “My father was a general in the army. You know, practically the highest military rank. You could say he owned the barracks. We joked that the barracks were his company, and he was the director. Now, can you imagine such a man to whom everyone has been subordinate all their lives? Hundreds and thousands of soldiers, and who knows how many other officials, and then two daughters and a wife who knew nothing better.”

“Yes, I can imagine. A serious figure.”

“Very much so. He was strict and demanding his whole life. Everything had to be according to him, or there would be problems. We literally had no will of our own. Whatever we did, he ordered us. Perhaps he didn’t know any better.”

“Sounds complex.”

“It is. Very. My sister and I somehow managed to break free, but it took us years to start thinking for ourselves. I still wonder when I need to decide something. But I managed to overcome it somehow. She never did. I mean, my mother, not my sister.”

“Yes. He was very strict. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but was he aggressive towards anyone?”

“Well, however you want to interpret that autocracy of his,. But if you’re asking if he physically abused anyone, never. It was just known that: if Dad said something, we had to do it. And not just the two of us, but Mom, too. We literally saluted around the house when he was there and carried out his tasks.”

“And your mother wasn’t pleased with that, I assume?”

“Not at all. How could someone who doesn’t question anything and has no will of their own be happy?! You must understand that he was the absolute commander, and everything always had to be according to him.”

“Okay. So, your mother decided to get a divorce and move in with you?”

“She wouldn’t have decided anything on her own. She’s not capable of that. My sister and I forced her. Because my father became unbearable, he’s now retired and has nothing to do, so he complains all day. This doesn’t seem right; that is wrong… And he kept giving her orders.”

“So, as always…” I said more to myself.

“Yes, but now he has become unbearable. You know, she’s not young anymore, and she can’t follow his orders. She has a problem with varicose veins and can’t do everything he wants. Anyway, my sister and I enabled her to live the life she wanted.” She said this with pride in her voice. Probably, for a long time, she felt like the hero of her family due to her actions two years ago—someone who finally spoke out against her father.

“Did your mother ask you to help her with that?” I asked to ensure I was going down the right path.

“Oh no, you don’t understand. She didn’t even want to get a divorce, but that’s how she is. Always complaining about how hard it is but never taking any action. No one could bear it anymore.”

“I think she could,” I said, and I already knew what look awaited me when I raised my head from the notebook in which I was taking notes. A look of surprise slowly turned into an assessment of the situation: Did I spend too much money on this conversation? How do I get out of this conversation? What will I say or convey to the person who recommended this woman to me…
She still asked politely (probably because about thirty more minutes of conversation needed to be filled),

“What do you mean?”

Explanation…

“Well… maybe I missed something, but you said you forced her to get a divorce from your father and that she actually didn’t want it. She didn’t ask for it, didn’t plan it, and didn’t try to get a divorce. If I understand correctly, she just talked about how hard it was with your father.”

“Yes, but… he is incredibly difficult. You don’t understand that. I barely endured eighteen years with him until I moved out to the dorm, and she did all that for double the time—practically triple. Simply unbearable.

“Still, your mother didn’t want to get divorced, and you forced her, and now it seems she’s depressed because of it.”

“You don’t understand…”

“I don’t know. Maybe I understand…”

“Wait. Are you saying she’s depressed because of me?”

“Well, not exactly. More or less because of herself, not because of you.”

She looked at me as if I were a bit foolish. It seemed very complicated for her to explain this situation to me because I didn’t grasp the basics: that it was hard for her mother with her father (or, as she called it, unbearable) and that now she can live however she wants (or, in her opinion, wonderfully). But of all the possibilities, she chooses to be depressed.

“Honestly, I think you’re wrong. I think she’s depressed—or has symptoms of depression, whatever—because she spent too much time with my father. Who was, at the very least, a tyrant.”, she said patiently with me.

“Possible, but then she would have been depressed even when she was with him, it seems.”

“Well, who says she wasn’t?” I was annoying her. It bothered me too, but this was a typical phase I had to go through with clients.

We always have the first phase: a little excitement about talking to someone who might help them, then comes a brief disappointment phase, where the two of us are currently; and finally, the phase I was eagerly awaiting and liked the most: the understanding phase.

“She wasn’t happy with him. She was never happy or satisfied with him,” she said.

“But wasn’t she depressed? She seemed more functional back then.”

“Yes, but she complained constantly. What kind of life is that?”

“True. On the surface, it seems like no life at all. Except for some people, that’s their best, and they’re not happy when someone takes it away from them.”

Acceptance…

The woman in front of me remained silent. And endured. Yes, her facial expression conveyed: “I’ll endure you, but you really annoy me.”

“Can I explain something about our nature?” I asked her conciliatorily.

“Just go ahead.” She crossed her arms over her chest; her legs were already crossed. If body language could be interpreted somehow, this was a complete closure to the conversation and the interlocutor.

*Note: The interpretation of body language must be taken with great caution. Many things attempted to be gleaned from body language need to be understood or vaguely reminiscent of something generally accepted. For instance, crossing arms may indicate boredom.

The message this lady was trying to convey to me fell somewhere between these two: ‘You are boring me,’ and ‘I don’t like being here.’

“Look, your mother spent her whole life with your father, even the years when she was forming as an adult or, let’s say, a person in a partnership. She learned with your father what a relationship should look like and, practically, how an adult’s life should be. And what did she learn? That an adult’s life looks like having a partner. And a partnership looks like one partner must be strict and the other must be obedient. Not only did she learn it, but she practiced it, as I understand, over forty years of their lives together until it became the definitive truth and the only way to live.” I paused, but the woman remained silent, so I continued:

“And then what happened? You and your sister suddenly took away the only way of life she knew, and, according to your words, you gave her the opportunity to live however she wanted. And let’s be clear: it’s very kind of you. Your intentions are obviously noble. However…”

The woman shifted uncomfortably at my ‘however,’ but she was glad to hear that I recognized the nobility of her intentions and that I was on her side at least a bit. What she didn’t grasp immediately was that I had been on her side the entire time, and being honest is often the highest form of favor.

“With that significant change, you literally took away your mother’s identity. Something she lived with her whole life. But let’s understand it better this way. You said you’re a scientist and highly educated, right?”

“That’s right.”

“We know that your education took at least ten years of higher education, probably more. If we count your overall education, it’s over twenty years of schooling altogether.”

“Yes, roughly.”

“Imagine someone taking that from you now—that is, telling you that your education will no longer be part of your life, and now you have to do something else. Like, for example, spending money. Just that. Spend it.”

“Do you mean I earn money and spend it?”

“No. Just spend it. A pile of money comes from somewhere, and you just spend it.”

“Hmm. Well, that wouldn’t be bad.”

“Let me clarify: you wouldn’t be able to be what you are now. Educated and accustomed to learning. You’d have to become something else.”

“Well, maybe for a while…”

“Actually, not for a while. Permanently. Because we’re talking about your mother’s story. Let’s say someone forced you to stop educating yourself and do something that seems good for you—spend money. But let’s make all of this a bit bolder. Imagine you haven’t been educated for twenty years but for forty, and you’ve only done that your whole life. You only know that, and that’s the only way to live. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand. You think I screwed up my mother…”

“No. I won’t say that you screwed her up there. Especially not intentionally. As I said, I understand that your intentions are noble, but the fact is that it happened. You pulled your mother out of something she practiced and shaped for forty years.”

“But education and obeying someone for a lifetime aren’t the same,” she weakly tried to oppose.

“They’re not. But they are the same in a way. If they have been part of our personality for so long.”

The woman in front of me remained silent, unsure what to say, so I decided to help her.

Relief…

“Look, nobody blames you for this.” I told her.

“This isn’t a place where we’ll blame each other. My job is to clarify what’s happening, and what’s happening is exactly this. Your mother lost her identity, whatever it was, and now she doesn’t know what to do without it.”

“But what kind of life is that? Living next to a tyrant who commands you your whole life!”

“Yes, true. It would be unbearable for you. But you are not her, and that’s why you didn’t choose such a life. However, she did. That was her whole life, and it was good for her. Sorry, but we don’t have a word in our language that simultaneously describes something as bad and good. So, for the purposes of this conversation, I’ll use the term ‘good.’ Anyway, your mother had a life she was accustomed to, around which she formed herself, and it became good for her. And now it’s gone.”

“So what should I do now? Bring her back to my father.”

“We’ll talk about that, but it’s important to understand what’s happening. When someone changes everything they are, a phase of depression ensues. For the simple reason that the person no longer knows what to do or what their purpose is. She learned for all these years to live as a good soldier for your father. And even though it doesn’t sound good to us, that’s the only thing she knows, finds acceptable, and deems normal. And now, after all these years, she doesn’t know what to do.”

“Well, she can live a good life, for example,” she mumbled.

“True.”

“Do whatever she wants. She can do hundreds of things.”

“Exactly. But you know, she learned, or rather, she was shaped as someone who doesn’t decide for herself what to do but follows others’ orders. Your father’s orders. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
The woman looked at me skeptically and uncertainly at the same time. But she didn’t get up to leave; she just nodded, waiting for me to convince her.

Conclusion…

And that’s a common reaction to these conversations. People see/feel that what I’m telling them makes sense, but at the same time, it’s too senseless to believe. Because who wouldn’t want freedom? Who wouldn’t want to be controlled after so many years? And who wouldn’t want to be liberated from their tyrant? Who becomes depressed or develops symptoms of depression because they’ve gained freedom?

As I write this now, I recall a scene from the movie ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ when that old inmate wants to return to prison, unable to live outside life after so many years. The fact is that we want to remain as we have formed ourselves because everything else is terrifying and unknown. What am I supposed to become now? What am I supposed to do now? And after the disappearance of our routine and habits, we don’t know which way to go, leading us to fears and despair that eventually turn into depression.

Yes, it’s much scarier to reshape ourselves because we need to figure out how to do it and whether we will do it well (especially for people who have spent their entire lives listening to someone else) than to continue living as we are used to. Another advantage of this approach is that another person makes decisions for us. Therefore, they are to blame for any potential failures.

People who have learned to live a certain way want to keep that way even when offered something better.

This is not just a small lesson about people; it’s a huge one.

This lesson explains why many people remain trapped in their lifestyles even when given a chance for something else. It explains why people squander lottery winnings, return to bad partners, and give up good jobs and the good countries they moved to. Because at the end of the day, our minds are slaves to our habits, and our nature determines what kind of life we will live.

I hope this story was interesting and useful for you to better understand human nature. Dee.

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