LITERARY REVIEW

Intro: How to survive when you’re at breaking point

THERE are various idioms containing the word break. One friend moans, “I feel just broken”, meaning she’s very tired. Another says, “It’s heart-breaking,” which is referring to something rather sad.

We can “break even”, where neither profit or loss is made and is seen as good practice, but when lovers “break up” it’s bad emotionally for all concerned. When the waves break on the shore, the meaning is not in question: they smash down and are changed. Similarly, a truly “broken-hearted” person will feel – in body, mind, and spirit – that life can never be the same again. And they are right.

And, so, what of the journey towards the breaking point? What stress must be applied to an elastic band, say, before it will snap?

In How We Break, health psychologist Vincent Deary suggests some answers for “navigating the wear and tear of living”. He shows how social circumstances can combine with individual genetics and unexpected external shifts to make each individual’s experience of stress unique.

Nobody – not even the most confident and strong among us – should think of themselves as invulnerable or immune. Events can combine to overwhelm you. A sudden shock can make almost anyone teeter on the edge and then fall.

How We Break is the second in a proposed trilogy series: How To Live. The first volume, How We Are, was published a decade ago. For publishing, that’s an unusual and significant gap: for the author himself suffered a sort of breakdown during the writing of this volume.

Since his subject matter is exhaustion, the physiology of stress and how so many of us seem to be permanently set in “fight or flight” mode, it should come as no surprise that Deary’s writing style becomes increasingly fraught as the book progresses.

There are times during the second part of the narrative when it becomes unclear whether he is writing “shrink-speak” for professional colleagues or providing information for the general reader. There is no doubt, though, depths of pain are quietly plumbed within these pages.

How We Are was about the acute difficulty of facing change, and the first part of How We Break continues the analysis of how “allostatis” can put such a strain on our minds, bodies, and spirits, that we face “trembling” before the point of “breaking”. Allostatis refers to the work of maintaining stability in the face of change. Parts one and two of this book explores the territories of what happens when we are pushed past our limits.

Deary draws on his extensive experience in an NHS clinic specialising in fatigue and uses case studies to show how people can suddenly be pushed over the edge.

We are introduced to “Sami”, a young care assistant (who also used to be his partner); “Anna”, a middle-aged woman who suddenly ceases to make sense of her life; and his own mother, Isobelle, whose emotional strength was eroded and sapped by frustration, bitterness, and regret.

Throughout, Deary provides an open invitation for the reader to ask questions about his or her own life. Yet, at times, he also seems to warn against overthinking – when we can “become hard work for ourselves”. There is convolution in the argument.

For his mother, listening to a ruinous inner “chorus” of recrimination and doubt proved disastrous. Rumination and withdrawal contributed to her depression, the downward negative spiral amplifying the other, in a process that increasingly had a momentum and a mind of its own. More rumination and withdrawal followed. The downward pressure was relentless.

That process – of plunging depression – can happen to anybody. Alarmingly, Deary points out that there are a staggering 16,400 accepted profiles “that qualify for a diagnosis of [a] major depressive disorder”. No wonder, then, that “thinking has become its own self-perpetuating problem”.

The author is painfully honest about his own psychological struggles as an effeminate child growing up in a working-class area on the west coast of Scotland. He was mercilessly teased at his comprehensive school, mocked for his appearance, turned into a “misfit”, and easily frightened as a child.

Such essential self-exploration and introspection underlines the deeply human plea which is the heartbeat of the book: more self-compassion is needed.

There is a depth of wisdom in Deary’s regret that society has neglected the idea of convalescence. Rest and recuperation are essential, yet increasingly (it seems), withheld. No time is allowed for the recovery of strength after childbirth, illness, family problems, and so on.

For all the modern emphasis on “mental health”, not enough is really known about the points at which people “tremble” then “break” (to use Deary’s own terms).

Some fortunate, and better-adapted souls are resilient and can cope, but others fall apart, at great cost to themselves, their families, and society. Our fast-moving, hyper-active, over-connected, multi-platform, anxious way of life and existence cuts people no slack.

What we can do about all this will be the subject of the third and final book in this series, How We Mend. Until then, Deary offers some pointers: “Beware mirrors. Which is to say, beware of becoming too entranced with your own opinions, stories, and concerns.

“Beware of becoming too preoccupied with yourself to the exclusion of the world. To prepare for life by looking in a mirror is to lose sight of who we really are and what we are preparing for.”

– How We Break by Vincent Deary is published by Allen Lane, 304pp