Chapter 1: A Misunderstood Cliff

During a family outing, my mother-in-law shouted at my son, "Stay away from the edge!" Unbeknownst to her, the so-called 'cliff' was merely an optical illusion. Beyond the grassy edge was a harmless drop of only about one foot, followed by a gentle slope leading down to the beach.

My son began to cry, and I felt a surge of anger, urging everyone to leave him be. Their tendency to panic can be quite frustrating, especially when it impacts others. I was the first to arrive at the spot and, after assessing its safety, I invited my son to join me in admiring the sea view. I even reassured the rest of the family that it was perfectly safe, but they chose to dismiss my words.

Despite his young age, my son is an astute climber. He takes weekly climbing lessons and demonstrates a natural aptitude for the sport. If given the opportunity to process the situation, he invariably makes sound decisions. He possesses more knowledge about safety and heights than most adults I know. Even if the drop had been dangerous, he is savvy enough to steer clear of peril. It pained me that not only were my reassurances ignored, but he was also scolded for something that wasn't a risk.

My wife then pointed out that her mother has a phobia that deserves respect. I responded that I didn’t want our son to be influenced by other people's fears, which could hinder his enjoyment of climbing, his favorite sport. Climbing requires a level of mental control; panic can lead to accidents. While they may believe they are safeguarding him, their reactions might instill doubt in him at crucial moments, such as when he’s scaling a bouldering wall. I wanted to shield him from that potential fear. In climbing sessions, there are times when he attempts challenging routes that make my stomach churn. Yet, when he glances at me, I strive to appear calm; if he senses my fear, it could trigger his own.

After the incident, as the rest of the group moved ahead, my son and I walked home together, both upset. Approaching our cottage, I spotted most of the family outside at a pub. I had no desire for a drink in such a mood, so I downed half a beer quickly and made an excuse to leave. That night, I went to bed determined to fend off the encroaching darkness of depression. Even during the short walk from the coast to the pub, I could feel the familiar black fog settling in, accompanied by a sharp pain behind my right eye and a noticeable drop in my mood.

I woke up feeling dreadful and disheartened. After lacing up my walking boots, I made my way to the beach, strolling along the shore and up to the headland that separates the two beaches. Sitting on the headland, I attempted to inhale the fresh sea air deeply. I pulled out my phone and began writing, pleading with my mind to let this wave of depression pass. I reminded myself that it wasn’t my fault; I didn’t deserve this punishment.

Chapter 2: The Calm Within Chaos

As I sat on the very edge of the ‘cliff’ that sparked the earlier chaos, my feet were securely planted on the hidden ledge below. It frustrated me that this ledge and the reactions of others had opened the door to my depression. I gazed out at the view, writing for a few minutes before pausing to simply absorb the scenery. It was indeed soothing, whether due to the landscape or the act of writing—I couldn’t tell. I focused on being present, even though my mind was a battleground, replaying past events while anticipating the future. It felt overwhelming. I took deep breaths, concentrating on the sound of the waves, the gentle breeze, and the warmth of the sun. Gradually, I began to feel a bit better.

Realizing it was time to head home to avoid worrying everyone, I thought about how the "depressed guy" shouldn’t be left alone for too long. I’m not suicidal, though the notion of death flickered in my mind—it’s an easy escape. Thankfully, today it remained just a thought, akin to contemplating an electric car. As I returned home, I felt somewhat better, though not entirely. The sunny Welsh coastline offered some comfort, and I managed to get some writing done.

I’ve shared these reflections in hopes of regaining my mental well-being. It frustrates me how a minor setback can derail my emotional state so easily. I’ve been trying to understand why this incident triggered my depression. Logically, both my mother-in-law and I were acting out of concern for my son. He is surrounded by love. However, I realized it wasn’t the actions that affected me; it was the emotions that followed. Replaying the event in my mind brought an overwhelming sense of anxiety. I’ve read that anxiety can be a precursor to depression—could it be the same for me?