9 Lessons for Working Through Anxiety and Depression
On playing through the pain
Mental health challenges affect so many people, myself included.
My experience with anxiety, depression, and OCD isn’t something I love writing about. Revisiting my darkest days still isn’t easy. Part of me always worries that somehow even just writing about it could pull me back. But a piece of my own recovery is facing that fear, and I promised myself I wouldn’t shy away, especially when I’m in a place solid enough to reflect. With May being Mental Health Awareness Month, I think it’s important to talk about.
My Story, In Brief
In 2017, I was blindsided by intense anxiety and depression. Eventually, I was diagnosed with OCD.
Intrusive thoughts and feelings took over my life. I was debilitated for the better part of a year. I had just published a bestselling book called Peak Performance, and yet here I was, struggling even just to leave my house.
I felt like a fraud. Worthless. Crazy.
After nine months, I wrote about my experience. It was not easy, but I learned that I was far from alone. I received hundreds of messages from others sharing their own experiences with depression, anxiety, and OCD. What surprised me at the time—but doesn’t anymore—is that many of these people are world-class at what they do.
For many, depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses are as real as the seasons. Not everyone faces these challenges, but for those who do, the experience is vexing, scary, and above all, isolating.
Mental illness does not make you less of a person. It does not take away from your accomplishments or expertise. It does not make you permanently weak or broken.
It is also not something to romanticize. When you are in it, it f**king sucks.
And yet to this day, so many people suffer in silence, confusion, and shame.
Ideas That Have Helped Me
In the early months of my mental health crisis, I was mainly focused on surviving.
But as I progressed in my recovery, I began to explore anything and everything that could help. It broadened my view of the human experience. It also changed my perspective on my job. It’s shown me that it’s important to have practices and tools not only for minor setbacks and when everything is clicking—which is generally the focus of my writing—but also, and perhaps especially, for when it’s not.
1. Reach out.
If you are experiencing a level of distress that feels abnormal for you, find someone you can share it with and don’t be scared to get help. It’s the most important thing you can do. You may feel deeply embarrassed or ashamed but please have the guts to ask for help.
2. Be patient.
Navigating mental illness is a nine-inning game. You may desperately want to be in the bottom of the eighth inning when, in reality, you are in the top of the third. Do everything you can to hold onto that long view. When you’re in it, a year or two or maybe even three feels like forever, but on the other side looking back it doesn’t seem so all encompassing.
3. Make a promise to yourself that you will keep showing up.
And when that feels uncertain, make a promise to yourself that you’ll share those feelings with someone who can support you in that moment.
4. Know that your brain is playing tricks on you.
It will tell you this is forever, that you never had a past without feeling this way, and that you’ll never have a future. Do everything you can to remember these thoughts and feelings are not facts, and they are impermanent.
5. Be kind to yourself.
It takes massive self-discipline to show up and navigate mental illness. You’ve got to learn self-kindness too. This is what’s happening right now. It’s really, really hard. I wish I weren’t feeling this way, but I am. And I’m going to do the best I can.
6. Resist dogma.
Explore all the evidence-based tools available to you: therapy, medication, exercise, and support groups. Stigma around each of these is flat out stupid. All can be effective.
7. Try to accept what you’re going through.
I know, at first the word “acceptance” sounds crazy. But anxiety, depression, and OCD resist control. Acceptance isn’t passive resignation—it’s acknowledging what’s happening, taking skillful action, and letting it move through you. One of the biggest paradoxes of anxiety, depression, and OCD is that obviously you want to try to make what you’re feeling go away, but if you try hard, the feelings just get sticker.
8. People want to help, and yet they may not understand.
Don’t hold it against them. I used to think depression was like sadness and anxiety was like worry. It wasn’t until I experienced these things firsthand that I realized they are in a different universe. Keep being vulnerable. It will help you find others who have undergone similar experiences. Lean on these people.
9. Just Hold On.
It takes time for therapy to work. It takes time for medication to work. It takes time for the seasons to change. What feels like forever now won’t in the future. Keep trudging on.
Mental illness does not make you less of a person. It does not take away from your accomplishments or expertise. It does not make you permanently weak or broken.
You Aren’t Alone
Part of why I share my story is simple: maybe it helps someone feel a little less alone.
The hardest parts of depression, anxiety, and OCD? How time seems to freeze, and how isolated you feel. Both are tricks of the mind—hallmarks of the conditions. But what feels endless isn’t. And however alone you may feel, you aren’t. People have gone through something similar. People are going through something similar. People will go through something similar.
The word "compassion" comes from co (with) and passio (to suffer). Compassion means to suffer with. Mental illness is brutal. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But if there’s any consolation, maybe it’s that it deepens our compassion—for others, and hopefully for ourselves.
Perhaps the most important thing I’ve learned: if you are struggling with mental illness, there is no need to be ashamed or embarrassed, no need to keep it to yourself. Talking to others who have had similar experiences can help. Therapy can help. Medication can help.
If you or a loved one is in any kind of deep hole, please seek out the support you need, especially from trained professionals.
(You can talk to someone right now at the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988.)
I know it may feel harder than there are words to describe. Even though it may seem impossible, it can get better. Keep going. ❤️



Brad, thank you for taking the time to post this. It’s just what I needed to know and be reminded of on a Saturday morning.
I’ve been feeling really down for months, and although the reasons: welcoming our third, beautiful baby girl into the world last year (no sleep), knee surgery (no exercise) a job I’ve outgrown long ago ( little mental stimulation) and while being stuck with all of these causal factors for the foreseeable future made sense, the brain would still take me down dark paths. Late 40s male with his best days behind him, etc.
the same brain that see the rut clearly , can’t find my way out of it at times and often compounds issues.
Glad to know I’m not alone. We get through together. I’ll see the sunshine again, and commit to persevere until I do.
The loneliness is the part of anxiety and depression that is often misunderstood. You know intellectually that you are experiencing something that millions have experienced before you and are currently experiencing, but when you’re in the thick of it, it feels like you’re the only person in the world feeling the way you are right now. You look around at everyone else and think to yourself that it’s unfair that their lives look so perfect, but you’re suffering. Why can’t you get past this anxiety? Why are you the one cursed with this?
It is only through ACT that I’ve finally started to see some sunlight after three years of struggle. For all of you out there going through it, hang in there. You are not alone.