Quotes About Hiding Depression Novels & Stories

“Would have appreciated it if I did the same thing?” “I wouldn’t have hid such a thing.” I said, shaking my head at her. “Hiding one thing means that you have more and more to hide. I do not know what it is that you may hide in the future, but I do know that since you chose to hide one thing, you will hide others, many, many other things.”

No more hiding. *****************************************

Behind those smiles and laughter often lay deep, hidden pain, masked by the night’s distractions. I sighed. I hadn't wanted to be rude and storm out of my parents' house, but lately, I’d been feeling really down. No matter how hard I tried to hide it and pretend I was okay, the feelings always found a way of seeping in, making my life feel miserable.

Ashley looked up at him. She pursed her lips and there was a lump in her throat. At this moment, Ashley recalled herself when she was young. At that time, she tried her best to hide all my thoughts, approached cautiously out of control, and told the sweet and sour secret that no one dared to say. Once a person cried hysterically, hid all the memories in the box, crossed out the dreams that were thought to be impossible as if they did not exist. Also once hypnotized to herself, choking and repeating, "I won't like you anymore."

“If you refuse to talk about him, do you know that you won't get better? Holding it in keeps you stuck.” “I've told you so many times that I don't have a problem,” I said, my voice shaking a bit now. The anger mixed with something softer and sadder. “I am not depressed, and he isn't the cause of my depression. It's not like that.” But even as I said it, doubt crept in. Was it?

Miss Layla askes for a stand and put Eros and Agape beside Distress Mask. I heaved a deep breath, cleared my mind and retained my smile. I won't be speaking here because I want to shame them but to share what I have felt and experienced during those times. And I hope this will help others to be aware. My goal is to spread awareness that depression and anxiety is not something to joke about. I want them to help others who's suffering right now. And if ever if one is right here, listening to me, I hope my words will give them strength to continue in living.

“But it’s not because I was ashamed of who I am. No. Afraid of judgment. No. Afraid of what it might mean for the company… for everyone who worked here. For everything I built. No. But it was because it is easier to hide in silence than showcase what I have behind closed doors. This is personal to me. I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business.” His voice quieted, dipped just below that armor and I could see that somehow the press were getting to him, but he continued. “But hiding means lying. To myself, to the world. And…” He seemed at a loss for words for a moment—rare for him—but when he spoke again his voice was so certain it became its own kind of truth. “And it gets old, you know? It weigh

she asked quietly. “Because I don’t think enough people are,” I said honestly. Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back quickly, but I saw. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m not usually this much of a mess.” “Everyone’s a mess sometimes. Some of us are just better at hiding it.” She smiled, a real one this time, small but genuine. “Are you speaking from experience?” “Maybe.” I took a sip of my own coffee, considering how much to share. “I went through a rough patch in med school. Depression, anxiety, convinced I was going to fail out. I isolated myself, told everyone I was fine, nearly had a breakdown during finals.”

"Exactly, now come." I decided to follow, I start to feel physically sick, but I keep that down. I must not get anxious. To be honest, I have anxiety and I've been hiding it for so long just to be friends with Shawn. Once I nearly told him, but he seemed pissed, so I said I was just joking, I wasn't. He then replied, good, being mentally stuffed is not cool, but I feel like ever since then I've been suppressing it for so long, that it's become worse, depression came and now it's even harder to deal with things. Sometimes I have breakdowns, but I never show or tell anyone, not even my family, I try to suppress those memories as well. We reached a bridge, graffiti covered the walls. Broken bot

I whispered to myself, barely audible: “You can handle this. One step at a time.” And somewhere in the back of my mind, All the Hidden Places waited quietly on the desk, a reminder that maybe some things weren’t meant to stay hidden forever—and maybe some truths weren’t easy to ignore. ---