Depression Is Not a Feeling. It’s a Verb

Words are powerful, and when it comes to mental health, the words we use shape how we see ourselves. Take depression. I hear it almost every day as a psychologist, and to be honest, I’ve said it myself.

“I feel depressed”

But what does that really mean? The word depressed sounds heavy, even serious. But it’s also strangely vague , a word that’s been overused and under-felt.

Think about it: “I’m depressed” doesn’t feel the same as “I feel sad,” “I feel scared,” or “I feel angry.” Those are real, specific emotions. “Depressed” is more like an umbrella term; it covers everything without really naming anything.

In a way, it can become a kind of emotional fire blanket, keeping our feelings contained, even numbed. So, when we say, “I’m depressed,” we might actually be avoiding the feelings that most need to be felt. Thanks to education programs and societal awareness, we talk endlessly about depression, but rarely about the feelings beneath it.

Depression as Avoidance

Consider the word itself. The Oxford Dictionary defines it as: “The act of lowering something or pressing something down.”

Isn’t that exactly what we do with emotions we don’t want to face? We press them down, push them away, avoid them in whatever ways we can.

In this sense, depression isn’t only a diagnosis. It’s also a process:

· Not saying what we really feel.

· Ignoring our gut instincts.

· Avoiding conflict with loved ones.

· Distracting ourselves with food, alcohol, or productivity.

If you’re human, you’ve done this. Avoidance is rarely the plan; we all dodge what hurts until we’re ready to face it. The problem is that avoidance disconnects us from ourselves. What we push down during the day resurfaces at night, when we’re alone with our thoughts, restless and haunted by what we’ve tried not to feel.

What Science Tells Us

Psychology loves tidy terms for messy realities. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) calls this experiential avoidance, dodging unwanted thoughts and feelings. In plain language: we run from what hurts. We get busy, distracted, “fine.”

Anything but still.

Evolutionary psychology adds another layer: across cultures, there are only a handful of universal primary emotions: anger, sadness, fear, joy/love, loneliness, disgust, shame and guilt. Notice what’s missing? Depression.

So when we say, “I feel depressed,” we’re not naming a basic emotion. We’re describing what happens when we avoid emotions. Which, when you think about it, is almost funny. We avoid feeling bad… and end up feeling worse.

Is Depression a Choice?

This is where things get uncomfortable. Suggesting that depression involves choice often provokes anger:

“Do you think I want to feel this way?”

“How can you say something so insensitive?”

But choice doesn’t mean blame. Recognising how we depress our feelings isn’t about fault, it’s about freedom. When we acknowledge our role in avoidance, we move from helplessness (“something’s wrong with me”) to responsibility (“I can choose differently”).

But What About a Chemical Imbalance?

You’ve probably heard it: depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. Biology and neurochemistry absolutely play a role, and medication can be life-saving. But sometimes that explanation becomes another way of keeping our feelings at arm’s length. Saying “I have a chemical imbalance” may feel like a relief, but it can also reinforce a sense of being broken, cursed, or genetically doomed.

A more helpful view is that changes in brain chemistry often reflect how we’ve been living, especially under chronic stress. The real work isn’t “fixing the chemicals,” but addressing stressors and learning to feel again. That doesn’t mean tossing your meds; it means understanding that healing isn’t only chemical. It’s emotional, behavioural, and relational too.

Coping Through Feeling

A client once told me, “I’m not coping at all with my dog’s death. I still cry from time to time, even though it’s been months.

My internal response was simple: Good. Because:

Not crying = not coping.

Crying = coping.

Tears aren’t weakness, they’re biology’s built-in medicine. Emotional tears release soothing chemicals that calm the body and relieve stress. That “salty water” is part of healing. When we allow sadness, fear, anger, or joy to move through us, we’re no longer stuck in depression. We’re alive. Messy, human, and alive.

Final Thoughts

Depression isn’t just an illness to be “fixed.” It’s often a signal that we’ve been pressing down what most needs to be expressed. By shifting our language and allowing ourselves to truly feel, we move toward authenticity, connection, and healing. The next time you catch yourself saying, “I’m depressed,” pause and ask: What am I actually feeling? Sad? Angry? Scared? Lonely? Shame? Guilt?

This doesn’t just apply personally, it also changes how we approach therapy. If you find yourself in therapy, spending week after week talking about depression — don’t. Find someone who’s willing to explore your humanity, not just your symptoms.

We’ve normalised talking about depression; it’s no longer taboo. But the more we talk about depression, the less we seem to actually feel. We don’t need more conversations about depression. We need to talk about feelings.

In my experience, clients make the most progress when they learn to sit in discomfort, to feel what they’ve been running from. That’s when something real starts to shift. Because the goal isn’t to get rid of depression. It’s to stop depressing what’s inside you.

By: Jonathan Back