Books for Existential Dread

In times of trouble, I need books.

Hello, old friend. So we meet again. You’re never very far, are you? Whether it’s work struggles, family strife that is slowly making you develop an ulcer, or Big Bad Politics rearing its ugly head and taking your sanity and sense of joy with it, existential dread is a constant companion I just can’t seem to ghost.

I try to do the right things. I avoid listening to melancholy music (though to the gravely voice of Tom Waits I always return). I meditate. I do yoga. I buy fresh flowers, take luxurious bubble baths, grind my own coffee beans, and practice other analog rituals designed to help me slow down and live a less scattered, manic life.

Often, these things work. Despite my frequent complaining (which I usually milk for comedic effect), I sometimes feel like the happiest person I know. Still, the icy fingers of existential dread (or is it a clammy clutch?) find their way back to me like a stray dog whining for scraps. The scraps are my mental health. And sometimes it’s in short supply.

When old existential dread comes a-knockin’, I try to find solace in books — but not the fictional reads in which the monsters are manufactured, the endings endearing, and the characters’ flaws cathartic. In times of trouble, I need poetry. Self-help books dressed up as philosophy. And yes, maybe even a novel or two—but they should be poignant enough to make me ponder.

Are you in times of trouble? I’m here for you, and so are my five go-to books for existential dread.

The shortlist: 5 books for existential dread to help you see the light again

1. Instructions for Traveling West — for feeding the beautiful beast in you that wants to sprint, hair streaming, through the wildflowers

2. The School of Life: An Emotional Education — for when you need to hear, “It’s all going to be okay.” 

3. Magnificent Obsession — for when you need to remember that it’s never too late to change your life 

4. Beautiful World, Where Are You — for when you need to remember that you’re not the only one wallowing 

5. Yeats’s Poetry, Drama, and Prose — for when you need something beautiful to lighten the weight of the world

1. “Instructions for Traveling West” by Joy Sullivan

I’m superficial. When I enter a bookstore, I’m a bachelorette on the prowl, scanning the room to see just who may come home with me, potentially into my bed or maybe even the bath, i.e., I judge books by their covers. So when I strolled past the colorful spine of Joy Sullivan’s “Instructions for Traveling West,” the nostalgia in me swooned.

Years ago, I developed an alternate reality for myself in which I turned 40, got divorced, and moved to Montana to romantically live out my days on a horse ranch. (I recall having just bought a pair of Levi’s at the time.) Turns, out Sullivan’s book of poetry explores feelings not too dissimilar from those that inspired my imaginary mid-life crisis: dreams of a fantastical fleeing to seek a new life founded on freedom and beauty. 

But let’s look at Sullivan’s words, which are much more eloquent than mine. The book flap reads:

“First, you must realize you’re homesick for all the lives you’re not living. Then, you must commit to the road and the rising loneliness. To the sincere thrill of coming apart.”

— from “Instructions for Traveling West” by Joy Sullivan

“…the sincere thrill of coming apart” — that’s a doozy. I don’t know about you, but when it feels like your life is coming apart at the seams, thrilling is hardly the word I would use. More like gut-wrenching. Or panic-inducing. Or hand-wringing, the kind you do when you start praying to a God you didn’t know you believe in. But then there’s poetry, and your wound finds the balm it needs.

2. “The School of Life: An Emotional Education” by The School of Life

When this book came home with me, it was an instant all-nighter. I remember staying up late and reading it on the front stoop in my bathrobe like the crazy, unkempt woman my lace-up oxfords would never let you believe I really am.

I’m not sure exactly what led me to this book, but I know one thing: It was bought during The Sad Time, i.e., the period of depression that ate my early twenties and caused me to do such things as read at odd hours in my bathrobe on my front stoop. It was worth the spectacle. And as I recall reporting to a few curious passersby (I lived on a fairly busy street at the time), “Yes, it is worth the read.” I’ve since recommended “The School of Life: An Emotional Education” to a friend who was battling his own Sad Time. And now I recommend it to you.

Apparently, The School of Life is a media company with lots of articles and podcasts and videos to help you deal with daily traumas like work, relationships, and socializing. I didn’t know that at the time. What I did know was this book felt like a wise, distant, older cousin whom you’ve really only met about six times in your life, but when you reconnect in your adulthood, they manage give you a philosophical pat on the back, releasing the tension you didn’t know was taking custody of your shoulders and whispering to your whole being: “It’s all going to be okay.”

3. “Magnificent Obsession” by Lloyd C. Douglas

Oh, this marvelous book. I’ve gone on record saying this is my favorite book of all time (just eeking past the formidable “The Picture of Dorian Gray” by Oscar Wilde), I bought a beat-up old copy at a used bookstore on a whim and have read it several times since. I even sent my husband a copy in the mail when he was my long-distance boyfriend and we did cute things like that from time to time. This 1929 tale recounts the existential crisis of a rich playboy (a real tragedy, I know) and his yearslong quest to make his life worth something.

The first time I read this book, I stayed up until all hours of the morning, so pressed was I to find out what became of our protagonist’s moral journey. It’s incredible to think this book is almost one hundred years old, yet it still intrigues. It still inspires. And it still reminds us during dark times that no matter how rotten you think you might be — no matter what mistakes color your character — it is ne