The Kind of Darkness You Don’t See

There’s a kind of darkness that doesn’t look like darkness from the outside.

It looks like going to work.

It looks like laughing at the right moments.

It looks like saying “I’m just tired,” when the truth is you’re exhausted from trying to keep yourself alive.

There are people walking around with heartbreak tucked so deep in their chest, you’d never know they were bleeding.

People who are the light for everyone else, but go home to shadows that won’t leave them alone.

Like they’re watching themselves from somewhere far away- smiling, nodding, replying, functioning- while something inside them quietly slips further out of reach.

Mental health isn’t always loud.

It’s not always a scream for help.

Sometimes, it’s silence so thick it chokes you.

Sometimes, it’s being surrounded by people and still feeling like a ghost in the room.

It’s not sadness, not exactly.

It’s this thick, heavy nothing.

A fog that wraps around your ribs and whispers, “You’re too much and not enough all at once.”

Mental health isn’t just a buzzword.

It’s a war zone so many live in.

The wounds get dressed in productivity,

The scars covered in kindness,

The wreckage hidden in humor.

People are carrying things you’ll never see.

Smiling through grief.

Cracking jokes while battling demons.

Giving love they don’t even know how to give to themselves.

It’s not always the ones you’d expect.

Sometimes it’s the strongest person you know.

The one who checks on everybody else.

The one who is always smiling.

The one who makes you feel safe.

That’s what makes it so cruel.

I don’t have a perfect ending for this.

Because there isn’t one. Not yet.

But I will say this- check on your people.

And I don’t mean the “how are you?” that ends in “I’m fine.”

I mean really check.

Ask the hard questions.

Notice the shifts.

And if you’re the one who’s drowning- I hope you hold on.

Even when it doesn’t feel worth it.

Even when the weight feels unbearable.

Even if it’s been here for a while.

Even if the light feels imaginary.

Don’t let the darkness convince you it’s the whole story.

Because there are still pages left in your story.

And maybe, just maybe, the next chapter is the one where the light comes back in.

Even if it starts as just a flicker.