Notes On… Depression

Depression is not just feeling sad.
It is not the blues.
It is not a bad day, or even a bad week.
It is not something you cry your way through and wake up better.

Depression is slowness that seeps into the bones.
It is disconnection: from self, from joy, from the future.
It’s wanting to care and not being able to.
It’s not always crying. Sometimes, it’s numbness.
Sometimes, it’s nothing.

People say:
Just go for a walk.
Have you tried gratitude?
You’re being dramatic.

But depression isn’t about a lack of trying.
It’s about trying every day to be okay in a nervous system that won’t rise.
It’s about going through the motions of life without the emotional fuel.

Clinically speaking, depression includes:

• Persistent low mood or emptiness

• Loss of interest or pleasure (anhedonia)

• Changes in sleep or appetite

• Fatigue or slowed movement

• Feelings of worthlessness or guilt

• Difficulty concentrating or making decisions

• Thoughts of death or hopelessness

According to the DSM-5, a diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder requires five or more symptoms, present most of the day, nearly every day, for at least two weeks, one of which must be either low mood or anhedonia.

But these are criteria, not character.
They do not explain how grief can mimic depression.
They do not account for high-functioning depression, the kind that smiles on Zoom and collapses when the camera turns off.
They do not tell the full story of what it’s like to lose access to joy.

Some truths that matter

Depression is not laziness.
It is not weakness.
It is not selfishness.
It is not a failure of gratitude.

It is a real, diagnosable, and treatable mental illness
influenced by genetics, environment, trauma, neurochemistry, and so much more.

And recovery isn’t always linear.
Some days surprise you.
And others that return you to the dark.
This doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It means you’re still in it. Still showing up.

Depression lies.
It tells you nothing matters.
It tells you you’re the only one.
It tells you there’s no way out.

But there is.
It starts by being believed.
By having your pain named, not minimized.
By being met, not managed.

Depression is not sadness.
It’s not feeling “down.”
It’s the absence of aliveness.
And if you’re in it, guess what?
You don’t need to be fixed.
You need to be held, heard, and slowly reawakened.

There is still you under the heaviness.
Still a spark in the ash.
Still a hand to reach toward.
Still hope, even if you can’t feel it yet.