Depression doesn’t just affect one person—it casts a shadow over everyone who loves them. If you’re walking alongside someone in this struggle, here are three often-overlooked truths that may help guide the way.

1. “Just Cheer Up” Won’t Help Them—And It’s Not Your Fault

When my friend first learned of her daughter’s illness, she thought sunshine and the ocean might help lift her daughter’s spirits. She carefully planned a trip to Hawaii. But when they arrived, her daughter locked herself in the hotel room and didn’t come out all day. My friend sat alone on the rocks by the sea, tears mixing with the saltwater as she quietly sobbed.

Depression isn’t something that sunshine or sheer willpower can fix. Just as you wouldn’t tell someone with asthma to “just breathe,” you can’t expect someone with major depressive disorder to “just think happy thoughts.” Depression is a medical condition—a neurochemical imbalance—not simply a matter of mindset.

The first and most important step for family members isn’t to rush their loved one into “getting better,” but to first accept this simple truth: healing takes time—and professional help. If your efforts haven’t brought immediate results, it’s not because you haven’t done enough or haven’t tried hard enough.

2. You Don’t Need to Be a “Saviour” — Just Being There Is Enough

When I visited my friend’s home, I noticed a printed “Recovery Plan” taped to the fridge — an A4 sheet filled with tightly packed schedules and rules:

“7:30 AM — Must eat a breakfast rich in Omega-3s”

“3:00 PM — Minimum 30 minutes of sunlight”

“8:00 PM — Parent-child reading (no negative topics allowed)”

Pointing to the plan, she said, “I’m scared I’ll miss something. What if things get worse because I didn’t do enough?”

This reflects a common misconception among families: thinking they have to be the “rescuer,” carrying the burden of “fixing” their loved one.

But the truth is, being there for someone with depression is less about lighting the path and more about sitting with them in the dark.

You don’t need to carry a torch — just let them know they’re not alone. That’s enough.

As one doctor wisely put it: “A person with a broken leg needs crutches, but the crutches don’t blame themselves for not being the leg.” What you’re doing now is offering something to lean on, to take the pressure off the pain.

If they don’t want to talk, don’t force it.

If they repeat the same worries over and over, don’t rush to say, “Stop overthinking.”

If they eat one more bite than yesterday, or even just manage a small smile in your presence, that’s a flicker of light worth noticing.

Your presence alone is a quiet, powerful form of support!

3. Don’t Forget Yourself — Your Exhaustion Deserves To Be Seen Too

Another time, at the grocery store, my friend stood frozen, holding two yogurt: her favourite peach, and the sugar-free one her daughter preferred. She put back the peach. Then, she crouched down by the shelf and cried. “With my daughter like this, how could I possibly care about what I like? Even picking a yogurt feels selfish.”

Her words cut deep. Her phone’s album told the story: the last 100 photos, all of her daughter — medication schedules, meals, a profile staring out the window. It was as if she’d emptied her own life just to make room for her daughter’s every emotion.

But have you considered: if you’re withering inside, how can you truly water someone else?

Ten minutes a day to just zone out. One call a week to chat with friends. Even allowing yourself to cry behind a bathroom door. These small acts of “selfishness” are not betrayals. These are ways to sustain yourself, so you can keep standing beside your loved one for longer.

You deserve to be seen. You need care, too.

Final Words

Family members supporting someone with depression are like travellers on a road without streetlights. You have to gently help your loved one take each step, while also finding your own source of light. This path is incredibly difficult — there will be exhaustion, guilt, and moments when you feel like giving up. But please, always remember: you are not fighting alone.

The tears you wipe away in secret, the smiles you force when you feel broken, the late nights spent researching — these quiet acts of love carry both of you forward.

May everyone silently supporting someone in the darkness be gently embraced by this world.

If you know someone currently experiencing the shadows of depression, please share this message with them. And quietly, softly, whisper these words:

“Hold on a little longer — you’re not fighting this battle alone.”