Why Changing Habits Rarely Lifts Depression — and What Helps Instead

If you’re anything like me, you’ll have set New Year’s resolutions many times over the years. You may have become fed up with yourself for making the same mistakes, resolving to never have that extra drink again, to stop staying up until the early hours binge-watching comedy box sets, or to finally break the habit of doom-scrolling through endless social media reels.

Although the specific habit we vow to change differs from person to person, most of us have been here before.

I can almost guarantee that you’ve made these attempts more than once. Despite initial enthusiasm, motivation, and considerable effort, old patterns often return quietly and uninvited. Alongside this, there can be a familiar sense of disappointment — and sometimes shame — as we turn inwards and ask ourselves, Why can’t I change? Is there something wrong with me?

In this series of blogs on creating positive habits and changing bad habits that cause depression, I want to explore a different perspective. These struggles are not a failure of willpower, nor do they point to some deep-seated flaw in who you are. Instead, they reflect a misunderstanding of how lasting change actually works.

Beautiful dusk off the coast of Croatia showing the inner peace that can come when bad habits that cause depression are changed.

Why Goal-Based Change of Bad Habits for Depression So Often Fails

When we try to change a habit that contributes to a feeling of depression, we usually focus on the outcome or goal. Our culture encourages us to aim for clear results: eating more healthily, drinking less alcohol, being more sociable, improving fitness, losing weight, worrying less, or spending less time on our phones.

We might decide to stop snacking between meals or reduce portion sizes, measuring success by dropping a clothing size or reaching an “ideal” weight. The emphasis is on arriving somewhere different — and often quickly.

While goals can provide direction, an exclusive focus on them can also create pressure. Goals can fuel urgency, self-criticism, and a sense that we are somehow failing in the present moment. They can pull us away from enjoyment and connection with what is happening now. And even when a goal is reached, the feeling of arrival can be surprisingly empty — which is often when old habits creep back in.

Goals aren’t wrong. They’re just not enough on their own.

The Three Layers of Behaviour Change

In Atomic Habits, James Clear describes behaviour change as having three layers, which can be imagined like the layers of an onion: outcomes on the outside, processes in the middle, and identity at the core.

The first layer is outcomes. This is about results: losing weight, sleeping better, reducing alcohol intake, running a half marathon, worrying less, or finding a new job.

The second layer is processes. This refers to the habits, routines, and systems we put in place. It might involve creating a running schedule, developing a regular reading habit, setting boundaries around alcohol, or adjusting our environment to support better sleep.

The third and deepest layer is identity. In Clear’s model, identity is not about personality traits or deep psychological beliefs, but about the type of person we see ourselves as — expressed through our behaviour. It is the difference between trying to run and being a runner, between wanting to read more and seeing oneself as a reader.

Identity answers the question: What kind of person am I becoming? And that identity is shaped by the actions we repeat.

All three layers matter. But what is crucial is the direction of change.

Most attempts at change begin from the outside in: we set goals and try to force new behaviours. Clear argues that lasting change happens from the inside out. When we begin to shift how we see ourselves — even slightly — our habits and goals can start to support that identity rather than work against it.

For example, if someone sees themselves as “not a people person” or “someone who prefers to be alone,” any process designed to increase social connection, and goals such as building friendships, are unlikely to last. Similarly, someone who sees themselves as “someone who needs alcohol to unwind” may reduce their drinking for a while, but the change is unlikely to stick without a shift in identity.

Changing From the Inside Out

Goals and processes are far more likely to endure when they are aligned with the identity we are practising. Change becomes easier when habits are no longer something we force, but something that expresses the kind of person we are becoming.

For example, someone might see themselves as “someone who gives up when things get hard.” If they decide they want to practise being someone who stays with difficulty more kindly, they might begin by responding differently in small moments — pausing rather than quitting, offering themselves encouragement, or breaking tasks into manageable steps. Over time, actions like these reinforce a new identity: I am someone who keeps going, even imperfectly. A goal such as feeling less anxious when facing challenges then becomes a natural outcome of that identity.

Another person may feel low because they lack social connection, while also seeing themselves as someone who keeps their distance from others. If they decide to practise being someone who participates, even in small ways, they might begin by attending a regular group, initiating brief conversations, or staying a little longer in social settings. Repeated actions like these gradually build the identity of someone who connects, and a wider social network grows from there.

When change happens this way, habits feel less like self-discipline and more like self-expression. Goals become less about judgement and more about direction. Alignment across identity, process, and outcomes creates consistency.

Where Do We Begin?

If we want change that lasts, the starting point is not asking 'What do I want to achieve?' but 'Who do I want to become?'

We may want to be someone who values health, learning, family, or connection — yet notice that our daily actions don’t reflect this. Perhaps we haven’t read in years, rarely see family despite living close by, spend evenings scrolling, or no longer move our bodies in ways we once enjoyed.

By starting with identity, the next steps often become clearer. Small process changes — reading a few pages each night, calling a sibling at a regular time, going for a short jog on specific days — begin to provide evidence for a new identity. Goals such as feeling healthier, more connected, or more grounded then emerge naturally from this alignment.

Conclusion

Attempts to change habits usually fail not because we lack motivation or discipline, but because we focus too narrowly on outcomes and behaviours, without attending to identity.

Lasting change begins when we decide what kind of person we want to become and allow our habits to become votes for that identity. Each small action matters — not because it brings immediate results, but because it reinforces who we are practising being.

Permanent change may appear to be dramatic, but outsiders rarely see the small steps that someone has put into place to allow genuine and long lasting change to take hold.

In the next blog in this series, I’ll explore how methodically changing behaviours over long periods of time, can lead to changes at the level of a person's identity and help to unpick negative core beliefs and rules for living.