I try to pay close attention to my mind when I feel down, angry, or happy. I notice what leads me into those states and what happens after. For a long time, I kept asking myself why a good, peaceful day is almost always followed by some form of trouble or low mood. But whenever I look for answers, I end up looking at nature.
Every evening, I sit on a bench in our town center and watch the daylight disappear as darkness takes over. People walk past without asking why I sit there every single day. I don’t read or look at my phone; I just sit, listen to the footsteps and distant chatter, and observe. My goal is simple: I want to catch the exact second darkness arrives.
I’ve never been able to catch that moment. But sitting there made me realize something: even if I could pinpoint the precise second night falls, I couldn't stop it. I would still just get up and walk slowly back home with my head down. The timing of the night isn't up to me. The only thing I actually control is where I choose to sit while it happens.
I also wonder about animals in the dark. Both wild and domestic animals don't panic when night falls. They move through it effortlessly because they don't fear it—they use the dark for their own benefit. That made me ask myself: what if I stopped fearing my own dark moments? If I stop dreading low moods, I can learn to navigate them instead of feeling paralyzed. I won't always know when a tough phase is coming, but I won't lose my footing when it arrives.
Light and darkness work in a fixed pattern. One always completes its turn and gives way to the other. You can't have one without the other, and the cycle never stops. Feeling down is simply part of being human—it repeats itself throughout life.
Psychology points to the exact same reality:
An evolutionary signal: Feeling low often acts as a natural brake. It forces us to slow down and conserve energy for what comes next, keeping us from burning out completely.
The mind's filter (Beck’s Cognitive Triad): Psychiatrist Aaron Beck explained how deep distress creates a distorted lens. It paints three things in darkness: how we view ourselves, how we view our surroundings, and how we view our future. It tricks us into believing the current low state is permanent.
Knowing this gives us a few grounded ways to handle those moments:
Action breaks the loop: Sadness feeds on sitting still and turning thoughts over in your head. Engaging in small, physical tasks—moving around, going outside, or fixing something—disrupts that mental loop.
Accepting the mood: Fighting a bad mood usually makes it heavier. Simply acknowledging that today is a hard day removes its power to intimidate you.
Questioning heavy thoughts: Our thoughts dictate how we feel, but the thoughts we have during low moments are rarely objective facts. It helps to ask whether a thought is true or just a product of a bad day.
Dark days will come back again; that's just how life cycles work. But once you stop fighting the low points and stop fearing the quiet, you realize the dark isn't there to destroy you—it's just the day turning over so the light can come back around.