You Aren’t Sick, You’re Adapting

Disclaimer: This article was originally published by the International Chiropractic Pediatric Association (ICPA) and is shared here for educational purposes. All content remains the property of its original author and publisher.

By Talia Marcheggiani, ND
Pathways to Family Wellness Magazine – Issue 76

We should look at symptoms and diseases as the body adapting in a very functional way to circumstances.

In an article called “I Treat Stories,” I talked about the spectrum between perfect “health”—perhaps better defined as “potential”—and disease and death. I described functional conditions like insulin resistance, HPA axis dysfunction, estrogen dominance, IBS, depression, and anxiety as conditions in which functioning is impaired in some way, or the person doesn’t feel like themselves.

I want to correct this.

I don’t believe that these conditions—even most diseases per se—are the result of the body malfunctioning. Instead, we should look at symptoms, so-called pathologies, and diseases as the body adapting in a very functional way to circumstances that may be challenging or overwhelming.

Depression and anxiety are powerful examples of this.

In these conditions, patients are often told that they have an inborn malfunction—their brains don’t work properly. They might be told they have a chemical imbalance and require a lifetime of medication.

This couldn’t be farther from the truth.

There has never been solid evidence proving the existence of these so-called brain imbalances. There is also no strong evidence that common therapies—usually SSRIs—are safe and effective long-term (and only limited evidence that they are effective short-term).

What we do know is this:

Animals in the wild become anxious when they are threatened.
Animals become depressed when their anxiety response—their fight-or-flight survival response—is exhausted.

That is the story I hear again and again from patients.

They often have a history of anxiety—their nervous systems are wired “up.” This might stem from early childhood trauma. It could be attachment trauma, receiving insecure attachment or inadequate attunement from caregivers. They might be contending with significant conflict at the time of diagnosis. They may have psychological schemas about not being enough, leading to perfectionism and self-criticism, which their nervous systems perceive as constant attack.

They may have experienced anxious modeling from a parent or caregiver who suffers from anxiety. They may have nutrient deficiencies or metabolic issues that signal to the nervous system that there is a food shortage—one of humanity’s most historical stressors.

Ultimately, something is happening in the environment in which the nervous system either lacks adequate safety signals or is receiving signals of danger or threat.

When patients present with depression, they often describe a history of anxiety. Maybe they experienced active anxiety—feeling shaky, jittery, hyperactive, fearful—or more passive or mental anxiety such as worrying, ruminating, narrating, overthinking, constant striving, self-criticism, and repetitive thought loops.

Not that anyone has ever asked them before reaching for the prescription pad, but when I talk to my patients presenting with depression, they almost always report a baseline level of anxiety that has gone on for some time, followed by a period of acute stress, shock, or loss that led to this collapse.

At this point, they experience extreme fatigue, low motivation, shutdown, paralysis, intense self-criticism, even suicidal thoughts and intense feelings of hopelessness. The world begins to feel pointless. Their bodies and minds “shut down” in a sense.

And of course, they eventually seek solutions—first from the medical system, because we have been trained to medicalize the problem. Something has “gone off” with the machinery of the body. We locate the problem within the body, not within life circumstances. The response is pathologized and most often medicated.

Then we talk about ending the stigma of mental illness—when many cases, if not most, are not illnesses at all.

What could be more stigmatizing or disempowering than the way we currently frame mental health?

Depression and anxiety are not sicknesses or weaknesses. They are adaptations.

Depression is an inflammatory shutdown state that results from chronic overstimulation of the fear response in the nervous system. It is a symptom. It reflects the health of your well-functioning brain and nervous system and their ability to adapt to adversity.

This adversity can be biological, mental, emotional, or environmental—or a combination of these.

For instance, when a deer tries to escape a predator and its fight-or-flight response fails, its nervous system shuts down. The body releases opiates. It feels distant. Its limbs go limp. It cannot escape physically, so it escapes mentally and emotionally. It despairs.

This is depression.

This is why story is so important.

Without story, we cannot understand what is happening for you specifically. We cannot understand your situation. And without that understanding, we cannot know how to help.

Is someone asking you about your story?

Or are they simply cataloging your symptoms?

Are they asking about your family history, trauma history, and current life circumstances? Are they asking about your thoughts, your tendency toward self-criticism and perfectionism? Are they asking what you eat, how you move, how well you sleep, and how you recover from stress?

Are they ruling out anemia, nutrient deficiencies, thyroid issues, fatty liver, insulin resistance, hormonal imbalances, chronic inflammation, or gut issues?

Are they asking how content you are with your job? What your dreams are for the future? How fulfilled and loved you feel in your primary relationships?

Are they asking about poverty? Discrimination? Whether you feel safe in your neighborhood? Whether you felt safe growing up? Are they misdiagnosing your grief?

Does your healthcare practitioner truly understand you? Can they connect the dots? Does talking to them give you a glimmer of hope—even at a hopeless time? Do you feel empowered and strong when you walk out of their office?

Or are they telling you that you have a brain imbalance or an inborn defect?

In reality, you are not defective. You are incredibly strong.

Your body is adapting. It is resilient. And in its process of adaptation, it is giving you these symptoms.

You don’t have to simply tolerate those symptoms. There is much that can be done. Pharmaceuticals may be supportive while you compassionately look deeper. But there is far more to the puzzle than medication alone.

It’s worth asking: What are you adapting to?