“You aren't really depressed. Other people have it much worse than you. You're fine.”

That can be almost a commonplace thing you'll hear if you've confided in someone about your mental health before. And when you think about it, the comment itself is pretty irritating. When people say something like that, they're talking about a physical experience, something like fighting in war, nearly dying, starving in a foreign country, etc. But here's the thing: depression is a mental illness. You cannot see what is going on in someone's head (if you can, let me know, that's pretty cool actually). The psychological torture that depression puts you through isn't something to be written off just because someone has had a normal life, or a less “horrible” life. We all have nightmares, no matter who or where we are. We all experience pain. And suffering. And doubt. And shame. We are all filled with a complex galaxy of emotions and thoughts that nobody else can see or hear.

So why do we constantly write off depression? Why don't we talk more about it? I spent years of my life never getting help for very serious depression because I kept seeing people saying that “everyone is just depressed nowadays.” It silences you. It closes any discussion. I would lie awake on so many nights thinking, “this is just how it is.” And it isn't.

Depression causes you to doubt yourself. It causes you to hate yourself. It causes you to separate yourself. Your mind is constantly swimming with thoughts of loathing. Or sadness. Or anger. It's not normal. I used to think being numb to the world was normal. Why do we let people think that that’s normal? Or not serious?

Lately, I’ve decided to start opening up more. I've become oddly blunt and sarcastic about the subject of depression, but at least I'm not alone any longer in my thoughts. The loneliness that depression causes in your head is unbearable. Finally talking about depression was a weight lifted off my shoulders. I used to think my friends and my family wouldn't be supportive if I talked with them. In all honesty, that was probably caused by my depressed mind saying they all hated me, but I digress. I was met with more support and understanding once I started becoming more open, because while depression isn't normal, everyone experiences it. The state of depression isn't normal, but the experience is.

“You never seemed depressed.”

That was the main thing I heard when I would tell my friends about the years I spent hating life (and I mean it, I hated life). Hearing that comment always made me laugh though, because who wants to be the mopey zoo lion around their friends? I'd picture it going like this:

The setting: random living room. The characters: random group of friends. The time: whenever.

Them: “Hey guys, how's life been going for you lately?”

You: “Well, actually I really want to die, and I think you all hate me.”

Mopey. Zoo. Lion.

I never wanted to make my friends feel awkward. I never wanted to burden people, or bring down the mood. But you know what? Friends are the ones who are supposed to be there for you, through thick and thin. And if they don't accept you, or try to support you, then are they really your friends? Or is it just a superficial cordiality? I'm starting to sound like a mom from a teenage drama.

We need to talk more about mental health. How many times a day do we get asked how we are, but we lie? I'm not saying that when a random stranger asks “hey, how are you?” that you should reply with an honest answer of “constantly battling the depression that ravages through my head and has left me in a state of almost obsessive self doubt and loathing.” That would obviously be weird (and yet somehow my sarcastic nature is now begging me to say that to a stranger). But seriously, when a real friend asks you how you are, next time… Be honest if you're not okay.

No matter who you are, where you live, what you've been through… You deserve to feel happy (unless you get happy from killing people, or stuff like that, I guess). You deserve to have your mental health addressed in seriousness. You deserve to not be written off as not depressed just because someone might have it worse. We need to start honestly opening discussion to the seriousness of depression.

You never know what anyone could be going through. Next time you're in a crowd, look at the people around you. Any single one of them could be fighting an internal battle too harsh for words to describe. Suffering in silence. Don't let your friends suffer in silence.

“You are depressed. I hear you. You're not fine. Do you want to talk about it with me?”

That's how it should go.