Depression Isn’t Laziness. It’s Drowning in Silence.

I don’t know how to explain what it felt like.

It wasn’t like I woke up one day and decided to stop caring. It wasn’t some drama or attention thing. It wasn’t because I was weak or tired. It just happened slowly, like I was being pulled underwater, inch by inch. And the worst part? Nobody noticed.

There was a time when I used to be this talkative, expressive person. I could laugh loudly, argue confidently, and cry openly if I had to. But then things started changing. Love turned into a fight. My decisions became problems. My freedom became their control.

They thought I was being rebellious. I was just trying to protect what mattered to me.

I didn’t expect everything to go up in flames. But it did. And suddenly I wasn’t in my own place anymore. I was somewhere else, locked away, watched 24/7, spoken to like I was some shame they had to fix.

And in that new place, something inside me just switched off.

I stopped waking up with a purpose. I stopped talking unless someone asked me something. I stopped looking in the mirror. I stopped feeling hungry. I stopped reacting.

Everyone thought I was being lazy. “Get up,” they said. “You’ve changed,” they said. “What are you doing with your life?” And I had no answer.

Because I didn’t even know what was happening to me, all I knew was that I couldn’t move. Not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually. It was like I had fallen into a well, and even though I was screaming inside, nothing came out.

I wanted someone to notice that this wasn’t laziness. I wanted someone to ask the right question, not out of judgment, but out of care. But nobody did.

Days became weeks. Weeks became months.

I still don’t know how I survived that version of myself. There were days I just stared at the ceiling for hours. Not thinking. Not feeling. Just existing in some blank space that felt safer than the real world.

People say, “Why don’t you talk to someone?” But how do you explain something you don’t understand yourself?

How do you tell someone that every time you try to open your mouth, your own mind shuts it? Has every emotion become too heavy to carry?

Depression is not crying every day. Sometimes, it’s not feeling anything at all.

It’s brushing your hair after two weeks and feeling like you ran a marathon. It’s replying “I’m good” when you’re not even sure you’re alive inside. It’s smiling just enough to make people stop asking questions. It’s showing up, even if you left your soul behind.

So, no, it’s not laziness.

It’s drowning in silence.

And the worst part is, nobody hears it.

If any of this feels familiar… you don’t have to explain it to the world, but if you ever want to talk, even quietly, I’m here : )