When the Body Hurts, the Mind Follows (and Vice Versa)

Let me be real with you.

There’s been more than a few mornings lately when just getting out of bed felt like climbing Everest. My body hurts. My energy’s drained. My health has been up and down—and lately, more down than up. And when your health dips like that, so does your mind. Your thoughts get heavy. You stop believing the day will get better. You stop reaching for the light because the darkness feels... familiar.

I’ve had lung surgery. I’ve dealt with angioedema. My skin flares up like it’s at war with itself. I broke my damn leg and foot. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I realized: depression doesn't just come from sadness—it comes from exhaustion. It comes from fighting your own body every single day. And here's the kicker: the worse I felt mentally, the worse my body responded. It's a vicious loop. One feeds the other, like two wolves circling you, waiting for you to drop.

"Health problems can trigger depression. Depression can make health problems worse."That’s not just a feeling—that’s science. According to the National Institute of Mental Health (2022), people with chronic illnesses are significantly more likely to experience depressive episodes. And depression? It can slow healing, spike inflammation, and increase physical pain. Your nervous system doesn’t forget how you feel. It amplifies it.

Now pile this onto the expectations men carry. We’re supposed to be strong. Providers. Unbreakable. If we’re in pain, we’re told to suck it up. Push through. Rub some dirt on it.

That’s not strength. That’s slow suicide. And I’m done lying about it.

I’ve written programs, launched Fathership Program Inc., and created resources for men to break cycles of anger, shame, and emotional numbness. And I still struggle with my own darkness. I still get hit with moments where my body feels like it’s betraying me, and my brain whispers that nothing I do will ever matter. But here's the truth:

Iron sharpens iron. Man sharpens man. And I’m not about to sit in the shadows and pretend everything’s fine. If you’re reading this and it hits home—you’re not alone. If you’re fighting pain and depression, I see you. You’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people walking this earth, because you’re still here. Still reading. Still searching.

In The Way of the Superior Man, David Deida talks about how a man must learn to lean into discomfort, not run from it. But leaning in doesn’t mean suffering in silence. It means standing tall, screaming if you have to, and still choosing to get up. Iron John by Robert Bly reminds us that healing doesn’t come from hiding in our caves. It comes from walking through the forest, wounded and raw, beside other men who know what it’s like to bleed and not break.

Let me say this: I’m not fixed. I’m not fully healed. But I’m walking through it. I’m showing up. I’m finding light even when my lungs don’t work right and my leg throbs like it hates me. I’m praying, writing, eating better (when I can), and reaching for tools instead of vices. I’m working on it, because my grandchildren needs me. Because I need me.

If that’s you too, if you’re in that brutal loop of hurting and hopelessness, know this: the loop can be broken. Not overnight. Not easily. But it can. One win at a time. One breath. One honest conversation. Start by not pretending. Then keep going.

At Fathership, we don’t do fake smiles and feel-good fluff. We do real. We do scars, not filters. And we’re here to help men walk out of the cave without leaving parts of themselves behind.

Work Cited :

Deida, D. (2004). The Way of the Superior Man: A Spiritual Guide to Mastering the Challenges of Women, Work, and Sexual Desire. Sounds True.

Bly, R. (2004). Iron John: A Book About Men. Da Capo Press.

National Institute of Mental Health. (2022). Chronic Illness & Mental Health. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/chronic-illness-mental-health