Depression doesn’t always announce itself loudly.
Sometimes, it slips in quietly — not with tears, but with numbness.

It looks like scrolling aimlessly for hours because you can’t bring yourself to do anything else.
It looks like replying “I’m good” when inside, you’re wondering if you’ll ever feel anything again.
It looks like meeting deadlines, showing up for people, laughing at the right time… while feeling emotionally empty.

And the worst part?

It’s not that people don’t care.
It’s that they don’t notice.

Because you’ve gotten really good at performing okay-ness.
You’ve learned how to smile through the fog.
You’ve convinced the world — and sometimes even yourself — that it’s not that bad.

But deep down, there’s a heaviness you can’t explain.
A kind of fatigue that rest doesn’t fix.
A loneliness that lingers, even in a room full of people.

This is depression, too.

Not the dramatic version people imagine.
But the quiet, functioning kind that slowly steals your spark.

If this sounds like your story, I want you to know this:
You don’t have to wait until everything falls apart to reach for help.
You don’t have to justify your pain.
You are allowed to say, “I don’t feel like myself anymore,” and let that be enough.

Therapy is not a last resort — it’s a first step toward reclaiming your aliveness.
Not in one session. Not overnight. But layer by layer, with patience, compassion, and safety.

I offer a free 20-minute zoom call — not to fix anything, but to hold space.
If you’re done pretending, and ready to feel again… I’m here.
You’re not alone. And you never were.