We’ve been fed a diet of movie tropes and book clichés. We expect pain to have a cinematic soundtrack - either total silence or a dramatic crescendo. We don't do nuances. In the stories, depression is just a plot point: you get sad, you get a hobby, you get better. End of scene. Real life didn't get the script. Outwardly, depression is rarely the "gloom and doom" people expect. Sometimes it’s the loudest person in the room. It’s the "cheerfulness" that’s actually a terminal case of despair. Total exhaustion can mask itself as high-functioning energy. A complete loss of faith can look like "cool" philosophical irony. Behind the facade, there’s a hemorrhage of the soul. It’s a pain that’s there when you wake up and follows you into every second of your day. You want to scream, but your throat is a furnace where the sound turns to ash. Pay attention. Watch for the "glitches" in the people around you. Don't dismiss their pain as "drama." You have no idea what’s happening in their private hell. When you think they’re taking a graceful dive - they might just be going under for the last time. (Digital drawing, 2026)