Sit with me in silence, I just need the presence of someone alive.
“things people don’t tell you…” — DEPRESSIVE EPISODES (Episode Five)
Something no one in my life has ever truly understood is that sometimes, I’m sad for no reason. There are moments when tears come without warning, without logic. Sometimes, I just fall apart, and there’s no apparent cause or explanation. It’s as if the weight of the world presses down on me, even when everything seems fine on the surface.
At ten years old, I can vaguely remember the last time I felt unbridled happiness — a kind of joy that wasn’t overshadowed by an inexplicable heaviness. By fourteen, that weight had a name: anxiety and depression. By nineteen, a more permanent label was added: Persistent Depressive Disorder (PDD).
PDD is chronic, a relentless companion. It’s not a fleeting sadness or a bad day; it’s a persistent, pervasive melancholy that weaves itself into the fabric of everyday life. Like many others who live with this disorder, I’ve come to terms with the reality that this is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
People don’t tell you how utterly exhausting it is to wage an endless battle with your own mind. They don’t warn you about the quiet, insidious moments when depression slips in unnoticed, stealing away joy, energy, and hope. They don’t explain how even the simplest tasks — getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, facing the world — can feel like monumental challenges, like climbing a mountain with weights tied to your limbs.
How do you explain the inexplicable? How do you tell someone that the tears streaming down your face have no tangible cause? That the heaviness in your heart isn’t tied to any event or circumstance? The world demands reasons, explanations, but depression offers none.
“I don’t know why I’m crying”
“I don’t know why I’m sad”
“I just don’t know!”
People don’t talk about the internal conflict — the battle between the person you want to be and the person depression reduces you to. The guilt of feeling like a burden, the frustration of wanting to be productive but being trapped by your own mind, and the fear that this might never get better — all of these are rarely spoken of.
But perhaps the most insidious thing people don’t tell you is how depression can convince you that you’re alone in this struggle, that no one could possibly understand. It’s a lie, of course, but a convincing one. It isolates you, makes you feel like you’re fighting this battle on your own.
Living with PDD means learning to navigate life with this shadow always present. It means finding ways to manage, to cope, and to hold onto the moments of light amidst the darkness. It’s a lifelong journey, one that requires patience, resilience, and sometimes, just the simple act of holding on for another day.
You may feel weak, but give yourself permission to fall apart, let the tears fall, break down. Just don’t forget to get up.
