Listlessness, Discouragement, and Depression — An Orthodox View

There is a state of the soul known to the early Church Fathers as listlessness (ἀκηδία (akēdia))

Evagrius (345–399 AD) sees this as the demon of listlessness: no longer love; God no longer cares for you; cuts off hope; shuts off the holy light from the soul; no longer dare to seek mercy of God with prayers; want to cry but terrible thought suppress tears; lasts for days on end; you want to scream about your discouragement and boredom; can make you sick; lose patience; feel crazy; then cry like a baby. In this condition, it can seem like there is no way out. This condition is experienced on the spiritual path for those who are advanced and strong spiritually but for those who are weak, it can lead to a desire for suicide after going through insanity.

The Fathers teach that listlessness often arises when a passion—an illusion of happiness or fulfillment—can no longer be satisfied. The soul, having expected life or meaning from something created, finds only frustration. When this frustration persists, it can lead to apathy, despair, and a sense that there is no way forward. The soul does not necessarily reject God; rather, it feels unable to reach Him.

For those who are spiritually strong, this state may become a battlefield where deeper humility and trust in God are forged. But for those who are weak, wounded, or already burdened, listlessness can become overwhelming and dangerous. The Fathers speak with great sobriety here: prolonged discouragement can distort perception, suppress tears, weaken the body, and in severe cases give rise to thoughts of escape from life itself. In such moments, the person is not guilty—they are suffering.

It is essential to say clearly: this condition is an illness of the soul, and often of the body as well. It may resemble what modern psychology calls depression, and the two can exist together. The Church does not oppose medical care in such cases. Medicine may help stabilize the body and mind so that the soul can breathe again. Seeking help is not a lack of faith; it is an act of humility and wisdom.

The Fathers do not burden the weak with heroic demands. They offer mercy.

When prayer feels impossible, they do not say, “Pray harder,” but rather, do not abandon prayer entirely. Even a single phrase—“Lord, have mercy,” or “Help me”—repeated without feeling, is enough. Prayer in this state is not about joy or clarity; it is about remaining turned toward God, even in darkness.

They also teach that the body must be cared for: regular meals, rest, simple activity, and structure are not distractions from spiritual life, but supports for it. Listlessness feeds on isolation and disorder. Therefore, one should not remain alone. Speaking with a priest, a trusted believer, or simply being in the presence of another person can quietly restore hope.

Most importantly, the Fathers remind us that hope does not have to come from within us. When the soul cannot hope, the Church hopes for it. When prayer feels empty, the prayers of others carry us. God’s mercy does not depend on our emotional strength. Christ remains faithful even when we feel abandoned or numb.

If you are experiencing this state, know this:
You are not broken.
You are not rejected by God.
You are not failing at the spiritual life.

You are wounded—and Christ came precisely for the wounded.

Remain where you are. Ask for help. Do not believe the thoughts that tell you there is no way out. This darkness does not define you, and it will not have the final word.