Depression, presence, and energy conservation: another interpretation of psychological breakdown

A, a 50-year-old woman, continues to go to work despite her depressive episodes. She says, "Work keeps me grounded." This statement offers a different perspective on depression. The human brain isn't designed to regulate everything on its own—the presence of others is a real energy resource. When this resource becomes inaccessible or too costly, the system slows down. It conserves energy. This article poses the question: what if certain depressive states correspond to an energy-saving strategy of a system that no longer feels capable of bearing the weight of the world alone, when it can no longer delegate part of it?

Dépression : Illustration d'un système nerveux en état d'effondrement — fatigue, retrait, économie d'énergie face à l'absence de ressources relationnelles

Meet A

She sought help after years of anxiety, rumination, and periodic depressive breakdowns. She is an intelligent, sensitive, and deeply introspective woman. She has already undergone extensive therapy. For nearly nine years, she participated in psychoanalytic therapy, which allowed her to better understand her history, her inner conflicts, and her relationship patterns. Today, she can speak about herself with great insight and clarity.

She knows, intellectually, that she is probably neither "crazy" nor "weak". And yet, some days, her whole system seems to shut down.

She describes overwhelming fatigue, endless rumination, crying spells, almost uncontrollable hypersomnia, and above all, this very particular feeling of no longer being able to "hold on." As if something inside her had suddenly given way. She even sometimes speaks of a "form of psychic death."

What is striking is that these episodes do not occur randomly.

They most often appear after relationship tensions, family setbacks, emotional conflicts, or simply after several days spent trying to maintain the connection despite exhaustion. As if certain human interactions consumed a considerable amount of her energy.

And yet, another detail immediately catches the eye: despite these collapses, A generally continues to go to work.

She told me:

“Work contains me.”

This seemingly very simple sentence perhaps opens up another way of understanding certain depressive states.

Because the problem might not be solely a lack of energy. It could also be related to how the brain assesses the resources available to continue coping with the world.

The human brain never functions completely alone

For a long time, we thought of the brain as an essentially individual organ, confined within the limits of the body. However, several studies in social neuroscience now suggest something very different: the human brain developed in a profoundly relational environment.

In other words, we are not designed to regulate everything on our own.

The presence of others—when perceived as reliable and secure—profoundly alters our physiological functioning. It reduces uncertainty, decreases alertness, eases emotional burden, and even lowers the energy cost of certain tasks. Being accompanied literally changes the way the brain assesses the world.

This is one of the central ideas of Social Baseline Theory , proposed notably by James Coan: the human brain implicitly considers others as part of the resources available to cope with reality.

The question that our nervous system constantly asks is therefore not only:

“Do I have enough energy?”

But also :

“Am I alone in facing this? And can I delegate some of the effort?”

And this nuance changes a lot of things.

When presence ceases to be a resource

For Anne, breakdowns occur primarily in emotional contexts. Not at work. Not in functional or relatively predictable relationships. But in close relationships.

For what ?

Because attachment bonds likely activate much older patterns: fear of rejection, guilt, shame, fear of bothering others, a feeling of not mattering enough, or conversely, of being "too much" for others. In these moments, the presence of loved ones ceases to be a regulating force. The bond itself becomes a source of tension and constant mobilization.

This is a crucial clinical point.

Because for many patients suffering from chronic anxiety, complex trauma, or depressive breakdowns, the problem isn't the absence of human connection. The problem is that the brain is no longer able to fully utilize the presence of others as a source of security, as a source of comfort.

Some people learned very early on that asking for help was risky. That depending on others exposed them to rejection. That showing their needs was dangerous or shameful. They then develop a form of forced autonomy: they continue to function, to work, to cope… but at the cost of an immense inner price.

For a while, the system compensates. Then it collapses.

What if depression was also an energy-saving strategy?

This idea may seem surprising, but it may be worth exploring.

What if certain depressive states corresponded, at least in part, to an attempt by the brain to reduce its expenditure when it perceives that the resources needed to continue coping are becoming insufficient?

Because when the brain judges that internal resources are exhausted, that relational resources are not really accessible, that help cannot be mobilized, and that the emotional cost of the bond becomes too high, then the organism can gradually reduce action, engagement, movement, vital impulse, and sometimes even the desire for contact.

The system slows down. It saves energy.

From this perspective, certain depressive states would not only be "pAs" of the brain, but also neurophysiological survival strategies in the face of a burden that has become too costly.

The role of the nervous system

Stephen Porges' polyvagal theory offers a particularly interesting perspective here. According to this model, our nervous system alternates between different states depending on perceived safety or threat.

When sufficient security is present, the connection remains possible. The body remains mobilized, flexible, and capable of social engagement.

But when resources seem insufficient, when relational tensions become too costly and no solution appears available, the system can tip into a state of collapse: withdrawal, extreme fatigue, slowing down, hypoactivity, hypersomnia, emotional anesthesia.

In this reading, certain depressive states could be understood as states of energy and relational economy.

As if the brain were finally saying:

“I no longer have sufficient resources to continue carrying all of this alone.”

The brain of presence

This way of understanding psychological suffering profoundly changes the way some patients see themselves.

The problem is no longer simply: “I am weak”, nor even “My brain is malfunctioning”.

But rather:

“My nervous system has long functioned as if it had to cope alone with a world that has become too costly.”

And this perhaps opens up another therapeutic direction.

Because beyond the symptoms themselves, the question then becomes: how to gradually allow the brain to re-experience that the presence of others can once again become a resource… rather than a danger or an additional expense?

How can we reactivate sensitivity to a supportive and reassuring presence? How can we help the nervous system to perceive again the resources that are truly available, both within and outside of ourselves?

Articles to read

• The Brain of Presence: at what point does the brain become social?

  A reflection on the fundamental role of presence in social neuroscience.

  
  

• Trauma, the nervous system, and homeland security

  How the brain and body adapt when the world becomes unpredictable or threatening.

  
  

• The polyvagal theory explained simply

  Understanding the states of the nervous system: mobilization, social engagement and collapse.