Why Therapy Isn’t Always the Answer

Facing Evil, Suffering, and Death to Find Meaning

It’s become common today to assume that if you feel anxious or depressed, the solution is therapy. Entire industries now stand ready to provide it—clinics, apps, counselors on demand. And let me be clear from the start: I’m not against therapy. I’m a licensed counselor myself. I’ve sat across from people in real pain, and I know that therapy can make the difference between despair and survival. I’m not here to dismiss that.

But I am here to ask a harder question: what if the explosion of therapy culture points to something deeper than a shortage of coping skills? What if anxiety and depression, in many cases, arise not from chemical imbalances or trauma alone, but from the absence of a worldview that can make sense of evil, suffering, and death?

In other words, maybe therapy is often used to treat symptoms of a deeper problem: our cultural refusal to face reality as it is. Reality is filled with evil. Reality includes suffering. And reality, for every one of us, includes death. Physical death comes for all—but it is not the end.

If we don’t know how to confront those truths, of course we’re going to be anxious. Of course we’re going to feel depressed. How else would we respond, when every honest moment reminds us of our fragility and eventual end?

And yet, if we learn to face these realities directly, if we build a worldview big enough to hold them, we may discover that much of what drives people to therapy is not inevitable at all. In fact, a great deal of it could be avoided—not because we eliminate pain, but because we finally know what to do with it.

Anxiety and Depression as Worldview Disorders

When someone tells me they’re crushed by anxiety, the temptation is to jump into techniques: deep breathing, grounding exercises, thought replacement. These things can help in the moment. But they don’t get at the root.

What if the anxiety isn’t just a runaway nervous system? What if it’s the logical conclusion of living in a world where death is ignored, suffering is hidden, and evil is trivialized?

Imagine trying to live your life pretending death doesn’t exist. You go to work, buy groceries, plan vacations, and tell yourself you’ll be around forever. But deep down, you know it’s not true. Every funeral, every hospital stay, every headline about tragedy reminds you of what you’re refusing to face. That knowledge festers beneath the surface. It leaks out as anxiety.

The same with depression. If you believe life has no ultimate meaning, why wouldn’t you be depressed? You could have every comfort, every luxury, every freedom, and still feel the weight of emptiness pressing in. The problem isn’t that you’re weak. The problem is that your worldview isn’t strong enough to carry the burden of existence.

I’ll say it bluntly: many people don’t need therapy; they need meaning.

The Cost of Avoidance

We live in a culture that treats avoidance like wisdom. If something makes you uncomfortable, you’re told to distract yourself. If a thought unsettles you, silence it. If death comes too close, shield the children, close the casket quickly, change the subject.

But avoidance is no cure. It’s fertilizer for fear.

When we avoid the thought of our own death, we rob ourselves of perspective. We cling to trivialities as if they’re ultimate, then panic when they slip through our fingers. We spend hours doomscrolling about global crises but never pause to ask: what does it mean that I, too, will die? What does it mean that all of this will end?

Without facing death, we can’t face life. We become anxious about every bump in the road, because we’ve trained ourselves to avoid the reality of mortality. Yet death is not a pothole into nothingness—it’s a passage every one of us must prepare to walk through. We become depressed in the face of suffering, because we have no framework for why suffering exists or what to do with it.

This is why therapy often feels like putting out spot fires while the whole forest smolders. The blazes keep returning, not because therapy failed, but because the person never built a worldview that makes sense of the inevitable.

The Ancient Way: Responsibility as the Path to Meaning

None of this is new. Ancient wisdom has always tied meaning to responsibility, and responsibility to suffering.

Think of Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist who survived the Nazi concentration camps. He didn’t say survival was about self-expression or self-esteem. He said it was about finding a “why” to live for. Even in hell on earth, meaning could be found by choosing responsibility—caring for a fellow prisoner, clinging to a future task, refusing to give up one’s dignity.

This aligns with what I call the MOVE framework: Map, Observe, Validate, Engage.

• Map your story, your values, your direction.

• Observe the patterns and lies that shape you.

• Validate what is true and worth building on.

• Engage with the world through responsible action.

At the core of this process is a worldview that acknowledges reality: life includes evil, suffering, and death. Meaning is not found by avoiding those things, but by facing them head-on and choosing responsibility in their midst.

Death as a Teacher

It’s strange to say, but death is one of the best teachers we have.

When you accept that you will die, suddenly life sharpens into focus. You stop wasting time on petty grievances. You stop pretending you’re invincible. You start asking: what am I here for? Who am I responsible for? What legacy am I leaving?

Ironically, the people who stare death in the face often live with the most vitality. They are not depressed by death, but clarified by it. They find courage, because the worst has already been acknowledged. They find gratitude, because every moment becomes a gift.

The people most prone to crippling anxiety and depression are often those who’ve spent the longest time avoiding death’s reality. Their whole worldview collapses the moment death peeks around the corner. Therapy may soothe them temporarily. But the cure is not in distraction; it is in acceptance.

You will die. I will die. Everyone you love will die. Physical death comes to all. But that fact does not strip life of meaning—it clarifies it. Life’s urgency flows from knowing our time here is limited, and that what we do now echoes beyond the grave.

Evil and Suffering as the Forge

The same is true of evil and suffering.

We want to believe evil is an illusion, or at least something “out there” in the world—not something within us. But every honest person knows better. We all carry darkness. We’ve all harmed others. Pretending otherwise leaves us helpless when evil touches our lives.

Suffering, too, cannot be wished away. You can medicate it, drown it in entertainment, or run from it, but eventually it finds you.

What if suffering isn’t just something to escape, but the forge where character is shaped? What if meaning comes not in spite of suffering, but through it?

Again, this isn’t modern psychology. It’s ancient wisdom. Every enduring tradition has taught that to live is to suffer, and to find meaning is to take responsibility for how you bear that suffering. The MOVE framework doesn’t invent this truth; it simply gives language and process to recover it.

The Existential Vacuum

In my counseling work, I’ve seen a pattern Frankl called the “existential vacuum.” People feel an inner emptiness, a boredom, a loss of direction. They come to therapy hoping for relief. But what they often need is not therapy—it’s a confrontation with meaninglessness.

The vacuum is terrifying. If you stare into it without a framework, it swallows you. That’s why people numb themselves with addictions, or collapse under depression. But if you shoulder other-focused responsibility, something incredible happens. The emptiness becomes possibility. Meaning rushes in.

Instead of asking, “How can I avoid pain?” you begin asking, “What pain am I willing to bear for the sake of what matters?” Instead of asking, “How do I feel better?” you ask, “What is the good I must do, no matter how I feel?”

This shift transforms anxiety and depression. Not overnight, not magically, but decisively. You no longer see yourself as a passive victim of emotions. You see yourself as an agent in a meaningful story.

Therapy vs. Worldview

Now, let me be precise: therapy and worldview are not enemies. They can work together. Therapy can help you see patterns of thought that sabotage you. It can give you tools to regulate emotions. It can offer the presence of another human being who listens deeply. These are good things.

But therapy cannot supply meaning. It cannot tell you how to interpret evil, why to endure suffering, or what death means. Those are worldview questions. If you walk into therapy with a worldview vacuum, no amount of technique will fill it. You’ll walk out calmer, maybe, but still directionless.

On the other hand, if you build a worldview strong enough to face evil, suffering, and death, you may find you need far less therapy than you thought. Not because life is suddenly easy, but because you finally know how to live with reality.

Building a Worldview That Can Carry You

So how do you build this kind of worldview?

It begins with honesty. Stop avoiding death. Acknowledge your mortality. Picture your own funeral, not as a morbid exercise, but as a clarifying one. Ask: what would I want said of me? What responsibility do I have now, before my time is gone?

Then, face evil—not just in the world, but in yourself. Stop imagining you’re above it. Recognize your capacity for harm. Own it. Then take responsibility for choosing the good, even when it costs you.

Next, face suffering. Not with bitterness, but with resolve. You will suffer. The people you love will suffer. Instead of wasting energy on outrage about this, ask: what meaning can I forge in the fire? What responsibility can I embrace through the pain?

Finally, act. Meaning is not something you feel first and then act on. It’s something you discover by acting responsibly in the world. Start small: care for your family, tell the truth, serve your community. As you take responsibility, meaning emerges.

This is the essence of MOVE. Map your life honestly. Observe your patterns and failures. Validate what is true. Engage in responsible action.

A Word to the Reader Struggling Now

I know some of you reading this are in the middle of anxiety or depression right now. You may feel like this is just another lecture telling you to toughen up. That’s not my intention.

What I want you to see is that you are not broken for feeling this way. You are responding, in a very human way, to the impossibility of living without meaning. You were not designed to drift. You were not meant to ignore death, pretend evil isn’t real, or imagine life is about pleasure alone.

The ache you feel is not a malfunction. It’s a summons. It’s calling you to face reality, to step into responsibility, to discover meaning.

Therapy may help you along the way. But therapy alone cannot answer that summons. Only you can, by choosing a worldview big enough to hold your life and your death.

The Stakes

Why does this matter? Because a generation is being crushed under anxiety and depression, and the reflexive answer is always: more therapy, more medication, more interventions.

But if the root problem is meaninglessness, then no amount of therapy will ever be enough. We’ll keep pouring resources into treatment while the culture keeps producing more emptiness.

The stakes are enormous. When people lose meaning, they lose the will to live. Suicide rates rise. Addictions spike. Communities fracture. Families crumble.

The solution is not to abandon therapy, but to recover what therapy cannot provide: a worldview that confronts evil, suffering, and death with courage and responsibility.

Living with Eyes Open

In the end, the question is simple: will you live with your eyes open or shut?

Eyes shut means avoiding death, trivializing evil, resenting suffering. It means endless anxiety and depression, managed by therapy but never resolved.

Eyes open means facing death as real—but not final—and letting that perspective fuel how we live now. It means acknowledging evil and choosing to resist it. It means accepting suffering as the price of responsibility and love.

Eyes open doesn’t mean you’ll never feel anxious or depressed again. It means when those feelings come, you’ll know what to do with them. You’ll see them not as random curses, but as signals pointing you back to responsibility, back to meaning, back to reality.

That’s a life therapy can support. But it’s also a life therapy can never substitute for.

Conclusion: Choose the Harder Path

So let me end where I began. I’m not against therapy. But I am against pretending therapy is enough. Too many people are being medicated and counseled when what they need most is meaning. Too many are told to manage symptoms when the root disease is avoidance of reality.

The harder path is to face evil, suffering, and death with eyes open. To take responsibility for your life. To embrace meaning as the antidote to despair.

This is not a quick fix. It’s not as simple as a prescription or an app. But it is the only path that works in the long run. Because it aligns with reality.

And reality, as harsh as it sometimes feels, is also where meaning lives—not just in this life, but in the life to come.

So don’t just go to therapy. Don’t just seek relief. Seek meaning. Face death. Confront evil. Embrace suffering. Take responsibility. Live with eyes open.

Your anxiety may not vanish overnight. Your depression may not dissolve instantly. But you will no longer be powerless before them. You will be grounded in something deeper, truer, stronger.

You will have found the thing you were made for: a life of meaning, forged in the reality of suffering, evil, and death—and lived in the pursuit of the highest good of others.