I don’t remember the first time I felt depressed. There wasn’t a dramatic moment or a breakdown. There was just a slow, quiet loss of joy, of energy, of hope… until one day I realized that I couldn’t remember what it felt like to be “me” anymore. It took time, but I eventually found my way back. And if you’re struggling, I believe you can too.
When you picture depression, maybe you think of Eeyore with his perpetual rain cloud. Or maybe you picture someone seeing the world in black and white while everyone else experiences color. Or perhaps you imagine somebody sitting alone in a darkened room, staring into nothingness.
Depression isn’t always what we think it is. It’s not just sadness. According to the World Health Organization, over 280 million people worldwide live with depression, each experiencing it in their own way. I can only speak from my experience with Major Depressive Disorder, also known as clinical depression.
Clinical depression can manifest as hopelessness, physical and emotional exhaustion, numbness, irritability, isolation, emptiness, sudden anger, or a complete lack of motivation to do even the things you once loved. It can make you feel like nothing but a burden to those around you.
Every journey through depression, whether clinical or situational, is different. But there is hope. There is hope both for those of us navigating depression and for the people who love us. The shadows may seem permanent, but they can lift. The numbness can give way to feeling again.
For anyone struggling right now, you are not broken. You are not alone. There is hope for you, even if you can’t see it. If finding hope again was possible for me, it’s possible for you too.
In this post, I’ll share more about my personal journey, the strategies that helped me find my way back, and practical ways you can support someone you love who’s battling depression.
What Depression Feels Like
Depression doesn’t discriminate. It can affect anyone, regardless of their faith, strength, or support system. Even when everything in your life seems “together,” depression can still find its way in.
For me, depression felt like I was trapped inside myself. I could see what normal life looked like, but I couldn’t access it. Depression fundamentally changed what felt possible. Even when my rational mind knew what might help, like reaching out to friends, getting outside, or practicing self-care, those steps felt impossibly far away.
The simplest tasks became monumental challenges. Getting out of bed. Responding to a text message. Taking a shower. Preparing a meal. Things that most people do without thinking required every ounce of energy I had. It wasn’t laziness or lack of desire to get better. Depression had stolen both my energy and my hope that anything could actually change.
Why We Withdraw (Even When We Don’t Want To)
One of the hardest parts about depression is how it affects relationships. Depression creates a painful contradiction. When we most need connection, we often feel like withdrawing.
What appears to others as pulling away isn’t about not caring for family or friends. It’s a desperate form of self-preservation when your emotional resources are critically low. The fear of being a burden becomes overwhelming. Even trying to explain what’s happening, when you barely understand it yourself, can feel impossible. The energy required to pretend that everything is okay simply doesn’t exist.
I understand how deeply this withdrawal can hurt those trying to love and support someone with depression. That pain is real and valid. At the same time, please know that this distance isn’t about a lack of love. Often, it’s the opposite. It is about loving people too much to let them see you at your worst or to burden them with your pain.
The Weight of Guilt and Shame
Depression brings a lot of guilt and shame with it. Thoughts like “I’m a burden,” “I’m letting everyone down,” or “I’m not enough.” As depression deepens and you can’t complete even basic tasks, darker thoughts creep in. “I’m a failure.” “I can’t do anything right.”
When you’re already carrying that weight, even well-intentioned advice can sound like confirmation of your worst fears. When someone suggests “just get some exercise” or “focus on the positive” or “pray more,” depression translates those words into evidence. “See? Even they think this is your fault. You’re not trying hard enough.”
And then comes the cycle. Guilt for being depressed. Guilt for feeling guilty. Guilt for how your guilt affects others. It’s an exhausting spiral, and it pulls you even deeper into the depression.
Finding Hope Again
If you’re struggling right now, please know this. You are not broken. Your brain isn’t defective. Your pain makes complete sense given what you’re experiencing. Depression is a serious mental health struggle, not a character flaw or a sign of weakness.
When I finally reached out for professional help, it wasn’t a magic cure. But it was the first step onto a path that eventually led back to myself. Therapy gives me tools I couldn’t have discovered alone. Medication helps my brain to use those tools effectively. The combination allows me, gradually and with many setbacks along the way, to rebuild my capacity for joy.
If you’re curious about what that journey looked like for me in more detail, you can read my story here.
What I’ve learned is that healing rarely follows the timeline that we expect. It’s not about suddenly feeling “all better.” It’s about slowly having more moments where you recognize yourself again. Depression didn’t erase me as a person. It only temporarily blocked “me” from view.
How to Support Someone With Depression
When someone you love is battling depression, the most important thing you can offer is your presence. If they haven’t sought out additional support, try to make it as easy and non-judgmental as possible for them to do so. You can check out the Resources page for ideas.
For this section, I’m focusing on supporting someone who is living with depression but is not experiencing active suicidal thoughts and plans.
If you’re looking to understand more about supporting someone struggling with suicidal thoughts, this Q&A might be helpful.
You don’t need to have all the answers. Just show up with patience, hope, and compassion. Celebrate their resilience, even on the tough days. Healing isn’t about perfection. It’s about the small steps, the quiet victories, and the strength it takes to keep going. Those small steps are easy to miss, but when someone noticed mine, I felt seen and valued. It reminded me that healing was happening, even when I couldn’t see it myself.
I know advice usually comes from a place of love. It’s natural to want to fix things when someone you care about is hurting. Watching depression from the outside is painful and scary. But it takes real courage to sit with someone’s pain without trying to rush it away.
Phrases like “you should,” “just do this,” or “why don’t you” often do more harm than good. Even if your suggestions are technically right, they can add to the guilt and shame we already carry, especially on the days when even the smallest tasks feel overwhelming.
What made the biggest difference for me wasn’t someone saying the perfect thing. It wasn’t advice at all. It was simply knowing they were there, even when they didn’t know what to say. Just being there meant everything.
The Capacity for Joy
I want to leave you with something that really stuck with me when I was at my lowest, feeling like there was no hope.
One of my peers in treatment told me, “If I have the capacity to feel sadness this deeply, I have the capacity to feel that same amount of joy again.”
Those words became a lifeline for me. Even though I couldn’t see it at the time, healing and joy were still within reach.
It took time, but they came. And I want you to know they can come for you, or for the person you love, too.
Leave a Reply