Chapter 5: When the Colour Fades: Feeling Low

A Letter from Samuel

Dear Jiwoo, I have taught children of about ten years old for fifteen years, and I have always thought of myself as a cheerful person. My pupils used to tease me for laughing at my own jokes. For years I stayed after school twice a week to run a chess club, and I looked forward to it more than almost anything.

Since the start of this school term, about six weeks ago, something has changed, and I do not know why. Nothing terrible has happened. My family is well and my school is a decent place. But the colour seems to have drained out of everything. I still teach my lessons, and I think I teach them properly, but I feel nothing while I do it. When a child finally understands something difficult, I notice it, but the old warmth does not come.

I have stopped running the chess club. I told the children that I was busy, which was not true. Now I go home straight after the last bell and lie on the sofa until it is time for bed. I fall asleep easily enough, but I wake at four in the morning and lie there, feeling heavy, until the alarm rings. Food tastes of very little. My wife, Grace, has asked me several times what is wrong, and each time I tell her that I am just tired, that it is a long term.

I feel guilty, because the children deserve a teacher who is really there. Sometimes a thought slips in, late at night, that there is not much point to any of it. I am not in any danger, I think, but I do not recognize myself anymore. Is this just sadness, the kind everyone feels? When should a person start to worry? And what should I do? With respect, Samuel

Dear Samuel

Thank you for trusting me with this letter. I can imagine how strange it must feel for someone who has always been the cheerful one to write the words "I do not recognize myself." I want you to know that I have read your letter slowly, more than once, and that I take every line of it seriously.

Because I take it seriously, I would like to say the most important thing first, rather than saving it for the end. Several things that you describe have now lasted for weeks: the loss of joy in things you used to love, the early waking, the heaviness, the loss of taste for food and the thought, late at night, that there is not much point. These are exactly the kinds of changes that public mental health guides and medical sources encourage people to talk about with a doctor. I cannot tell you what they mean, and I would not want to guess. But I would gently encourage you to make an appointment with a doctor soon, and I will say more later in this letter about how that conversation might go.

I would also like to say something about that late-night thought. You wrote that you are not in any danger, and I believe that you believe it. But I want you, and every reader of this letter, to hear this plainly. If you ever feel like hurting yourself, or if thoughts of not wanting to be alive start to grow stronger or more frequent, please contact a helpline or a medical facility right away. If you or someone else is ever in immediate danger, call your local emergency number. There is no shame in doing this, and you do not have to be sure how serious things are before you reach out. Helplines' public information says this again and again: they are there for people who are struggling, not only for people at the very last moment.

Now, with that said, let me answer your questions as fully as I can. I will take them in the order in which you asked them.

Sadness and a Low Mood That Stays

You asked whether this is just sadness, the kind everyone feels. Sadness is one of the oldest and most human feelings. It is how we respond to loss, disappointment and change. Public guides and psychology textbooks agree that sadness is not a problem in itself. It has a purpose. It slows us down, it helps us take in what has happened, and it often draws other people closer to comfort us.

Sadness also tends to move. It comes in waves, it is mixed with other feelings, and even in a sad week a person may still laugh at a friend's story or enjoy a good meal.

A low mood that stays is often described differently. People who have lived through one often say that it feels less like sadness and more like flatness, or heaviness, or as if the colour has faded from the world, which is almost exactly how you put it. Good news does not lift it much. The things that used to bring pleasure no longer do. And, very often, there is no clear reason for it, which can make people feel confused or even guilty, as if they have no right to feel so low.

People have described this kind of heaviness for as long as they have written anything down. Old stories, songs and sayings in many cultures speak of a heavy heart, a grey season of the soul or a darkness that settles on a person for no clear reason. Traditional wisdom often treated it as part of the human condition, something to be endured with patience and the company of others. Modern medical sources agree that it is deeply human and that company matters. But they add something the old traditions often could not: that a low mood which stays can be understood, that it is nobody's fault, and that help from a qualified professional can make a real difference.

The word "depression" causes some of the same confusion as the word "anxiety" did for an accountant who wrote to me just before you. In daily speech, people sometimes say "I am depressed" when they mean that they had a disappointing day. In medical sources, the same word is used for a condition that can affect a person's mood, body, thinking and daily life for a long time. Only a doctor or another qualified professional can tell whether what someone is living through is that condition. A letter cannot, a list cannot, and a person looking at himself through the fog of a low mood certainly cannot.

What the sources do offer is a rough guide for when to seek that professional opinion. Many public mental health guides suggest that if a person has felt low, empty or without interest in things for most of the day, on most days, for about two weeks or more, it is a good idea to talk to a doctor. You have described about six weeks. That is one reason I have already encouraged you to make an appointment.

I think of a man who drives a tram through the same streets every day. For years he has waved to the same children on their way to school and the same old woman who waits at the third stop with her shopping bag. One winter he notices that he has stopped waving. He sees the children, but his hand stays on the controls, and he cannot remember when this began. Nothing about his route has changed. Something inside him has.

Small details like that, the wave that stops or the chess club that ends, are often the first signs that a mood has changed. They are worth noticing, as you have noticed yours.

Signs Worth Taking Seriously

You asked when a person should start to worry. I would rather put it another way: when should a person start to take something seriously and look for help? I am going to describe some changes that public guides and medical sources often mention. Please read them as a description, not as a test. A list cannot diagnose anyone, and having some of these does not mean you have any particular condition. But if several of them have lasted for weeks, that is a good reason to talk to a doctor.

The sources commonly describe a low mood or an empty feeling that lasts most of the day. They describe losing interest or pleasure in things that a person used to enjoy, such as your chess club. They describe changes in sleep, including waking very early and not being able to fall asleep again, or sleeping far more than usual. They describe changes in appetite, with food losing its taste or eating much more than usual. They describe tiredness and a lack of energy that rest does not fix, and feeling slowed down or, for some people, restless.

They also describe changes in thinking. People may find it hard to concentrate or to make even small decisions. They may feel worthless, or feel guilty about things that are not their fault, or feel that they are letting everyone down. You wrote that you feel guilty because the children deserve better. I would like you to notice that this guilt may itself be part of the low mood, not a fair judgement of you. And the sources describe feelings of hopelessness, and thoughts about death or about not wanting to be alive.

This last group of signs, thoughts of death, thoughts of hurting oneself or of not wanting to go on, is the one that all the sources treat most seriously. They agree that such thoughts should never be kept secret and should never be faced alone. I said it at the start of this letter, and I will say it again because it matters so much: anyone who feels like hurting himself or herself should contact a helpline or a medical facility right away, and in immediate danger should call the local emergency number. Saying such thoughts aloud to someone, even if it feels frightening, is very often the first step toward feeling safer.

I should also mention one difference between the sources. Some public guides focus mostly on mood and feelings, while medical textbooks also point out that changes in mood can sometimes be linked to physical health, such as other illnesses, changes in the body or the effects of long-term strain. This is one more reason why a doctor is the right person to see first. A doctor can look at the whole picture, the body and the mind together.

There is one more thing I want to mention briefly. Some low moods at work are closely tied to deep exhaustion and a growing distance from the work itself, a state that people often call burnout. Teachers, like nurses and carers, sometimes describe it. Burnout and a low mood can look alike from the outside, and they can overlap. I will write about burnout properly in a later letter. For now, it is one more reason to let a doctor help you understand what is happening, rather than trying to work it out alone.

Talking to a Doctor

I know that for many people, the hardest step is the first one: making the appointment. People worry that they will be wasting the doctor's time, that their problem is not serious enough, or that they will not be able to explain it. Public guides say very clearly that doctors hear about low mood often, that it is a normal and appropriate reason to visit, and that it is better to go early than to wait until things are worse.

It can help to prepare a little. Before the appointment, you might write down on a single sheet of paper what has changed and roughly when it began. You could note your sleep, your appetite, your energy and your interest in things, and how each of these compares with before. You might also write down the thoughts you have late at night, including the thought that there is not much point. It can feel hard to say that out loud, and writing it down means that you can simply hand the paper to the doctor if the words will not come.

You might also ask Grace whether she would like to come with you. Many people find it easier to talk when someone they trust is beside them, and Grace may have noticed things that you have not. She has already asked you several times what is wrong. I suspect that she would be relieved to be let in.

The doctor will probably ask you questions, listen and perhaps check your physical health. Then the doctor will talk with you about what might help, and about any next steps. I will not try to guess what the doctor will suggest, because that depends on you, on what the doctor finds and on what kinds of support are available where you live. What I can tell you is that you will not be expected to have all the answers. Your only job is to be as honest as you can about how you have been feeling. I will write more about the different kinds of help that exist, and about why asking can feel so hard, in a later letter.

If the first conversation does not feel helpful, please do not take that as a sign that nothing can help. Sometimes it takes more than one appointment for a doctor to understand what is happening, and sometimes a person feels more at ease with a different doctor or another qualified professional. Public guides encourage people to go back, to say clearly if things are not improving or are getting worse, and to keep asking until they feel heard. Looking for help is not a single moment. It is often a path, and it is all right to walk it slowly.

Small Steps While You Look for Help

I want to offer you a few small ideas for the days ahead. They are things that public guides often suggest alongside professional help, to support a person through a hard time.

Psychology textbooks describe a pattern that may sound familiar to you. When mood is low, people naturally pull away from activities and from other people, because everything feels like too much effort. But pulling away often makes the low mood deeper, because it removes the small experiences of pleasure, success and connection that help a mood to lift. So the mood falls, the person withdraws, and the mood falls further. Many guides suggest gently interrupting this pattern with very small actions, done before the motivation arrives rather than after. When mood is low, motivation often follows action instead of leading it.

In practice, this might mean choosing one small thing each day that once gave you a little pleasure or a sense of having done something, and doing it even if you do not feel like it. It should be small enough that you can manage it on a bad day: a walk around the block, a phone call with a friend, cooking one simple meal, playing one game of chess. You do not need to enjoy it. You only need to do it, and to notice afterwards whether anything changed, even a little.

Other suggestions that public guides commonly make are keeping a regular daily rhythm, getting outside into daylight, moving the body gently, eating regular meals even when food tastes of little, and staying in touch with at least one or two people. None of these will cure a low mood on its own, and the guides do not claim that they will. But they can help to keep the ground under a person's feet while other help begins.

At work, you do not have to tell anyone, and the choice is yours. But some people find it helps to tell one trusted colleague, or the person in charge of the school, that they are going through a hard time and are getting help. Sometimes a workload can be lightened for a while. And you might, when you feel ready, tell the chess club children that you hope to come back soon. Children understand more than we think, and they will not need the details.

I think of a woman who works in the post room of a large office, sorting letters and parcels all day. During a long, grey season after her mother died, she could barely speak to anyone. But each morning she still sat down at her table, opened the first bag of letters and finished sorting it before allowing herself to think about the rest of the pile. Her colleague, an older man, did not ask her many questions. He simply brought her a cup of tea every morning at the same time and sat with her for a few minutes. Months later she told him that his cup of tea had been one of the things that held her days together.

People have long comforted each other with the words that this, too, shall pass. There is real comfort in it, and the modern sources agree with part of it: low moods often do lift, especially with the right support. But I would not want the saying to become a reason to wait alone. A low mood can pass more easily when a doctor knows about it, when the people close to you know about it, and when you are not carrying it in secret.

You have spent fifteen years helping children find their way through difficult things. Now it is your turn to be helped, and I hope you will let that happen. With warm wishes, Jiwoo

A Question to Think About

My question for you, Samuel, and for every reader, is a gentle one: if a good friend described to you the weeks you have just lived, what would you hope that friend would do next? Take your time before you answer.

You might think about how you would speak to that friend. Would you tell him that he was being weak, or that he should just try harder? Or would you speak more gently, and perhaps offer to go with him to see someone?

You might also ask yourself what stands between you and doing what you would hope your friend would do. Is it a worry about what people will think, a feeling that you do not deserve help, or simply not knowing where to start? Which one small step could you take toward help this week?