Depression

Have your days started to feel like a long list of things you just don’t have the energy for?

Do even the smallest tasks feel like climbing a mountain these days?

Do you find yourself crying more than usual, or feeling emotionally frozen and unable to cry at all?

Are you experiencing aches and pains, exhaustion, or changes in appetite or sleep with no clear physical cause?

Have you caught yourself smiling and nodding on the outside while wondering, quietly, what’s the point?

Have you been overwhelmed by thoughts of hopelessness, defeat, or low self-worth—and sometimes even wondered whether life is worth living?

You’re not alone. And you don’t have to keep pretending you’re okay.

Depression wears many disguises. It can arrive with heavy sadness. Other times it’s loud: constant tears, sharp mood swings, or thoughts that spiral into hopelessness. For some people, it’s more like emptiness or a persistent sense that something’s off—even when everything “should” be fine.

You might cry more than usual, or not cry at all and wonder what’s wrong with you. You might wake up exhausted, dread the day ahead, or feel like you're watching life from behind glass. You might go through the motions—smiling, replying to emails, ticking boxes—while inside you feel like you’re slowly fading.

It can feel like you’re stuck in a fog where everything’s technically still happening—your job, your family, your life—but you can’t feel it. And you're afraid people will notice, or worse, that they won’t.

Depression doesn’t always look like staying in bed all day. Many people show up for work, take care of kids, even make small talk at parties—while inside, they’re struggling. High-functioning depression is sneaky like that: it hides behind competence and achievement, often accompanied by a relentless inner critic and a deep fatigue no one else can see.

Depression can also be tangled up with grief. You may be mourning the loss of someone, a relationship, a dream, or even your sense of identity. Sometimes people feel confused when grief doesn’t follow a neat timeline—when it flares up months or years later, or blends with numbness, anxiety, and guilt. That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It just means you’re human.

If you live with a chronic illness, depression can become part of the background noise: the frustration of pain or limitations, the isolation of not being understood, the exhaustion of managing symptoms while pretending to be "fine." Therapy offers space to hold the emotional weight of that reality with compassion, and to explore what peace and meaning can look like—even if your circumstances don’t change.

And for some people, especially those who’ve been taught to “tough it out”—depression may not register as sadness at all. It might look more like irritability, withdrawal, overworking, reckless behavior, or substance use. These responses aren’t signs of weakness. They’re signs of pain trying to protect itself.

Whatever form depression takes, it’s not a character flaw. It’s not laziness. And it’s not something you have to go through alone.

Therapy is a place to let the mask slip—whether you're feeling completely broken or just quietly worn down. Together, we’ll explore the stories depression has been telling you, listen for the parts of you that still long for something more, and build tools that support real, doable change. Not toxic positivity. Not pretending. Just honest conversation, small shifts, and steady care.

You don’t need to wait until you collapse. If you're tired of white-knuckling your way through the day—or you’ve simply forgotten what joy feels like—let’s talk. I’ll meet you wherever you are, whether that’s lost, skeptical, burned out, or cautiously hopeful.