Content warning: This story mentions mental illness.
I just love it when people say, “You don’t look depressed.” It tells me a lot about how they view mental illness because what am I supposed to look like if I am depressed? Apparently, wearing makeup, putting on a cute outfit, and appearing to have my life together means I couldn’t possibly feel completely numb and alone in the world.
I have officially struggled with depression for six years now, so I am familiar with most of the ways it manifests. However, what I’ve noticed is that not many people talk about living with high-functioning depression and the loneliness that surrounds it.
Oftentimes, depression is portrayed as an isolating illness that leaves people rotting away in bed, unable to get up, socialize, or participate in everyday life. And while that can absolutely be someone’s reality, depression can also look completely normal.
Depression isn’t just feeling sad all the time. In fact, sometimes it’s feeling nothing at all, and I think that’s the scariest part: waking up in the morning and feeling absolutely nothing. No excitement, no motivation, no anticipation for the day ahead. Just emptiness.
But because people with high-functioning depression can get out of bed and carry on with their lives, their struggles are often overlooked. Their symptoms are mistaken for irritability, disinterest, or a bad attitude rather than signs of an illness they’re fighting every single day.
I am fortunate to have friends who understand that sometimes I have bad days when, while I did get out of bed, that’s about all I can do that day. But more often than not, a handful of people would go up to my friends asking why I’m “being such a b*tch today,” and that’s what makes this illness so lonely.
Because suddenly, I’m not just battling my own mind. I’m also worrying about how everyone else perceives me. Instead of being able to exist on a bad day without explanation, I feel pressured to perform happiness so nobody mistakes my exhaustion for an attitude problem.
So, I withdraw. I hide from the world in moments when I am in need of community most. And all of this is because I’m afraid of being judged for something that is already out of my control. It also makes me more self-conscious of an illness that is already ripping me apart from the inside out.
People with high-functioning depression are constantly brushed off and denied treatment because they aren’t “depressed enough.” Because they aren’t bedridden daily and unable to speak to people, apparently that means they’re fine and dandy. But high-functioning depression doesn’t last forever, and when it goes unnoticed for so long, it can turn into something worse.
There was a time in my life when I thought I could handle everything by myself, and I just went about my life completely isolated from the world. Well, that just ended with me being bedridden and unable to eat, shower, or even speak for two days. It was the scariest two days of my life.
But it was like all of a sudden, in those two days, the whole world seemed to care. My parents were constantly checking in on me, I was getting texts from friends, and even my directors were messaging me with concern. It baffled me that for years I had been suffering in silence, but the second I showed signs of what they think depression is supposed to look like, everyone was suddenly so concerned.
Why did I have to completely fall apart for my struggles to be taken seriously?
High-functioning depression is still depression. It may not look the same as someone else’s experience, and its severity can vary, but the ability to maintain a routine doesn’t make the pain any less real.
I’m not saying everyone should automatically know when someone is struggling or treat them differently because of it. Honestly, I think that would be most people’s worst nightmare. Nobody wants to feel like they’re constantly being watched or pitied.
What I am saying is that depression is already an incredibly lonely illness, and when your struggles are invisible to everyone around you, that loneliness takes on an entirely different form.
You begin questioning whether your feelings are even valid. You compare yourself to people whose struggles seem more severe, convincing yourself that you’re lucky because at least you can get out of bed. At least you can go to work. At least you can smile when someone talks to you. Eventually, you start believing that because you can still function, maybe you’re not really struggling at all.
It shouldn’t take reaching a breaking point to be taken seriously. No less, we shouldn’t have to stop showing up and smiling for people to think something is wrong because depression doesn’t mean you don’t need support. Oftentimes, it’s the person who seems the happiest and like they have it all together who is struggling the most.
Depression isn’t something you can see with your eyes, and it should stop being treated as such.
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264). For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357). In an emergency, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255) or call 911.