Facing the Blank Stares: A Personal Journey Through Depression and Harmful Filipino Responses

My bladder woke me up at 2 a.m., the way it always does.

Normally, I’d slip back into sleep without much trouble, but this morning my eyes stayed open. I reached for my phone, scrolled through the Threads app, and landed on a question: “What tips or advice can you give someone with depression?”

I started reading the replies. A flood of generic answers poured in—half-serious, half-dismissive, many of them well-meaning but dangerous. And in that quiet hour, I was reminded of my own lived experience.

Depression is not just sadness—it is a darkness that swallows everything. I remember days when even lifting my phone to send a message for help felt impossible. That’s the cruelest part: the illness itself builds a wall between you and the world, and by the time you find the courage to whisper “I’m not okay,” you’re already breaking inside.

In the Philippines, that whisper often meets silence. Or worse, it meets words that sting more than people realize. We live in a culture that prides itself on being cheerful, tough, and enduring, so when someone finally says they are drowning, the replies often sound like denial: “Drama lang yan.” “Decide to be happy.”

What should be an opening for compassion instead becomes another wound. And I know this not as an observer, but as someone who once stood in that moment—vulnerable, desperate, and met with blank stares.

​​If I Were to Answer That Question

After going through the comments, I realized most weren’t helpful. But if I were to answer that question seriously, these are the strategies worth sharing.

Start small, even if it feels pointless.
Depression convinces you to stop moving, and the less you do, the heavier the days get. Science calls it behavioral activation (Medical News Today), but what it really means is this: take one small step. Shower. Wash a plate. Step outside for air. These little actions don’t cure depression, but they create cracks where light can get in.

Write your thoughts down.
Depression fills the mind with lies—“I’m worthless. Nothing will change.” Writing them on paper can take away some of their power. Psychologists call this cognitive restructuring (Mayo Clinic). I just call it giving myself proof that my darkest thoughts aren’t the only truth.

Practice presence, gently.
Mindfulness is more than a trend or a hashtag. It’s the practice of bringing your mind back when it spirals (Nature). Sit with your breathing, notice the sounds around you, or just feel the chair you’re sitting on. It doesn’t fix the storm, but it anchors you so you don’t get swept away completely.

Lean on others, even in the smallest way.
Isolation makes depression worse (PMC). Send one message. Ask a friend to sit with you, even in silence. Sometimes it’s not advice or solutions you need—it’s simply knowing someone is willing to share space with you.

Move your body, if you can.
Not for fitness, not for goals. Just to feel alive. Walk, stretch, ride your bike, dance in your room. Studies show even light exercise can lift mood and improve sleep (Sleep Foundation).

None of these erase depression. They’re not cures. But they’re anchors. Small, science-backed steps that make the weight a little less unbearable until professional help—therapy, medication, real support—can step in.

Because sometimes, all you need to get through the day is one gentle reminder: you are still here, and that’s enough for now.

The Moment That Changed Everything: Resigning Due to Depression

Years ago, while working as a recruiter in a Philippine BPO, I hit my breaking point. Depression had drained me to the point where I couldn’t function. Even the simplest tasks felt impossible. I was showing up every day, but inside I was empty.

After months of pretending I was fine, I finally resigned. Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t see another way to protect what little was left of me.

I still remember that meeting with the company executives. I expected at least a word of compassion, maybe even a question. Instead, I was met with blank stares. No attempt to understand. No offer of support. Just silence—heavy, cold, and confirming what I already feared: my struggle was something they didn’t want to deal with.

That was the lesson. To them, I wasn’t an employee in pain. I was just someone who quit. And for many Filipinos with depression, this is what happens: the courage it takes to admit the truth is met not with care, but with indifference.

Dismissed, Shamed, and Silenced: Filipino Responses to Depression

When I finally spoke about my depression, the replies I got weren’t comforting. They cut deeper than silence. And I realized these are the same responses so many Filipinos hear every day.

“Drama lang yan.”
This one stings the most. It reduces depression to attention-seeking. As if fighting through the weight of each day is just some performance. When someone says this, what they’re really saying is, “Stop bothering us with your pain.” And the person who dared to open up walks away thinking, “I should’ve kept quiet.”

“Decide to be happy.”
It sounds encouraging at first, but to someone drowning, it feels cruel. Happiness isn’t a switch you flip. If it were that easy, depression wouldn’t exist. When I heard this, I wanted to scream: “Do you think I haven’t tried?” Instead, I just fell quieter.

“Just push forward… ignore it.”
This is the resilience trap. Laban lang. Tuloy lang. Words we were all raised on. But depression isn’t something you can muscle through. It’s not a traffic jam or a bad boss. It’s an illness that eats you from the inside. Telling someone to ignore it doesn’t make them stronger—it makes them feel invisible.

“Seek help.”
This one sounds like the right advice, and it can be, but said carelessly it lands flat. When you’re deep in depression, even getting out of bed feels impossible. Booking a doctor’s appointment? Forget it. What really saves someone is not those two words, but action—like the friend who once dragged me out of bed, set the appointment, and stayed with me the whole time. That’s what seeking help looks like when you’re too tired to help yourself.

Actual Harm: The Emotional Cost of Generic Replies

People don’t realize how fragile that moment is—the moment someone with depression opens up. It takes every ounce of courage to say, “I’m not okay.” And yet, what they often get in return are words that feel like a slap.

Imagine someone drowning, waving frantically for help. You’re holding a lifebuoy, but instead of throwing it, you yell, “Just pray.”
Or picture someone bleeding on the floor. Instead of calling for help, you tell them, “Have you tried deciding not to be injured?”

That’s exactly how those generic lines sound to someone in depression. Empty. Dismissive. Cruel, even if you didn’t mean them to be.

I remember feeling smaller with every careless reply. The courage I had gathered to speak up was crushed in seconds. And this is what most people don’t see: advice like “Cheer up” or “Others have it worse” doesn’t just fail to help—it pushes us deeper into silence, and silence is where depression does its worst damage.

What a person in that darkness needs is not quick fixes or motivational speeches. They need presence. Listening. A willingness to do something, not just say something. Because for someone who is barely hanging on, your words can either shield their flickering light—or blow it out completely.

Why Filipinos Respond This Way

I’ve asked myself many times why the usual replies to depression in the Philippines sound so dismissive. And the answer is layered in our culture.

We were raised to smile through pain, to keep family honor intact, and to avoid anything uncomfortable. Vulnerability often looks like weakness. Admitting you’re not okay can be seen as rebellion against that “kaya mo yan” spirit we were all taught to carry.

This is what researchers now call toxic positivity—the idea that you should always look on the bright side, no matter how heavy life is (Kollective Hustle). It shows up in our homes, our friendships, and especially in workplaces. In many companies, the topic of mental health is almost taboo. Employees keep quiet because the moment you admit you’re struggling, you risk being labeled a liability (Emovation).

The BPO industry, where I once worked, reveals how deep the problem runs. Research shows high rates of stress, anxiety, and depression among call center agents, linked to disrupted body clocks, irregular sleep, and punishing workloads (ejournals.ph; philarchive.org). Even in online discussions, agents admit that depression feels almost “normal” in the industry, as if it’s something you just have to get used to (Reddit).

And yet, when someone leaves work because of mental health, the response is often disbelief or indifference. The law has started to acknowledge it—Philippine labor guidelines now recognize immediate resignation due to mental health concerns as valid, and employers are encouraged to build more supportive environments (Respicio; Sprout PH). But laws can only do so much. Culture is harder to change. Until we unlearn the instinct to dismiss, employees will keep walking away in silence, carrying pain no one wanted to face.

The Silent Crisis in Numbers

Sometimes people think depression is rare, or that it only happens to a few who “can’t handle life.” The numbers tell a different story.

In the Philippines, about 3.3 million people—3.34% of our population—live with depression. If you widen the scope to all mental health disorders, the number jumps to 12.5 million Filipinos, or 11.6% of the population (World Health Organization).

What’s even more alarming is what’s happening to the young. Among Filipinos aged 15 to 24, reported depression rose from 9.6% in 2013 to 20.9% in 2021—that’s one out of every five young people (Philippine Statistics Authority). Many of them are still in school, still forming their futures, yet already carrying this weight.

The suicide numbers reveal the cost of neglect. In 2021, the suicide rate in the Philippines was 3.49 per 100,000 people. Between 2021 and 2022 alone, 404 students died by suicide. And in 2021, 7.5% of Filipino youth—around 1.5 million—attempted suicide (Department of Health).

Yet even with these numbers, the system meant to help is thin. There are fewer than one mental health worker for every 100,000 Filipinos, and government spending on mental health is just 0.22% of total health expenditures (World Health Organization).

These numbers are not statistics to be rattled off—they are reminders of how urgent this crisis is. Behind each digit is a name, a face, a story. And too many of those stories end in silence, because the help came too late or never came at all.

Creating Change: What Depression Truly Needs from Others

When someone is in the middle of depression, they don’t need empty slogans. They don’t need comparisons. And they definitely don’t need to be told to snap out of it. What they need is presence, patience, and action.

• Active, nonjudgmental listening:
  Sometimes the most healing thing you can do is simply sit with someone, let them speak, and resist the urge to fix them with advice. Listening without judgment is more powerful than most people realize (HelpGuide).
  
  

• Concrete help:
  Depression can strip away even the smallest energy needed to take care of yourself. That’s why real help often means stepping in. Be the friend who shows up, who books the doctor’s appointment, who rides along to the clinic, who stays while they talk to the therapist. In those moments, you’re not just helping with logistics—you’re holding up the part of them that can’t stand on its own.
  
  

• Validation:
  Sometimes all a person needs to hear is: “You’re not alone. I may not fully understand, but I’m here.” Validation reminds them that what they feel is real, and that it matters. It’s the opposite of the minimizing phrases that so often crush people into silence (HSE; Medical News Today).
  
  

Change doesn’t come from grand speeches. It starts in the way we respond to one person who opens up. In the tone of our words. In the small but urgent actions we take. Because for someone who is barely hanging on, those moments can mean survival.

What You Sound Like—From the Other Side

When you tell someone with depression to pray harder or to choose happiness, it doesn’t land the way you think it does. From the outside, it may sound like encouragement. From the inside, it feels like neglect.

Depression isn’t a test of faith. It isn’t a failure of willpower. It is an illness that grips the mind and body so tightly that even the simplest acts—getting out of bed, eating, sending a message—can feel impossible.

Telling a depressed person to just “be strong” or “decide to smile” is like telling someone drowning that breathing is a choice. Or telling someone with a broken leg to just walk it off. The words might come from a place of concern, but to the one hearing them, they sting like cruelty.

People in depression carry a small, flickering lamp. It’s fragile, and every dismissive word is a gust of wind that threatens to put it out. What keeps that light alive is not advice, but protection. Shielding it until they’re able to breathe again.

Healing Through Action: My Personal Road Forward

Looking back, I know I didn’t make it out of that darkness alone. Medication helped stabilize me, but it wasn’t a cure. Real healing began in psychotherapy—slowly learning how to name my thoughts, to find patterns in my exhaustion, and to carve out space where I could breathe again.

I found little lifelines outside the clinic too. Writing became one of them. Pouring my thoughts into blogs gave shape to the weight I had been carrying. Riding my scooter for hours gave me moments of freedom, even if it was just the wind on my face and the road stretching ahead. And eventually, I found myself reaching out to others online. On forums like PinoyExchange, I began offering advice and encouragement, not as an expert but as someone who knew what it was like to be tired of fighting.

That was when something shifted. Depression hadn’t disappeared, but I had new tools to face it. More than that, I had proof that connection could pull someone back from the edge—because it had pulled me back.

Holding the Light for Someone Else

Filipinos are known for warmth, for community, for standing together when life gets heavy. But when it comes to depression, we often fail to live up to those very traits. We meet confessions with silence, or with words that wound instead of heal.

If we truly want to honor the values we’re proud of, then we need to start here—by learning to listen, by choosing compassion over dismissal, by showing up with presence instead of platitudes. Depression isn’t solved with a single sentence. Sometimes, what saves someone is simply knowing that another person is willing to sit with them in the dark.

I share this story not just to look back at my own struggle, but to remind anyone reading this: the way you respond matters. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to fix everything. What you can do is be there—steady, patient, and real.

For someone in the middle of depression, that presence can be the difference between despair and survival. And maybe, one day, between survival and healing.

If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please don’t face it alone. Here are 24/7 hotlines and support groups in the Philippines that you can reach out to:

• National Center for Mental Health (NCMH) Crisis Hotline – 24/7
  1553 (Landline/PLDT Toll-Free)
  (02) 7989-8727 (Landline)
  0917-899-8727 (Globe mobile)
  0966-351-4518 (mobile)
  0908-639-2672 (mobile)
  
  

• HOPELINE – 24/7 Suicide Prevention & Crisis Support
  (02) 8804-4673 (Landline)
  0917-558-4673 (Globe)
  0918-873-4673 (Smart)
  Toll-Free for Globe/TM: 2919
  
  

• In Touch Community Services – 24/7 Free and Confidential Counseling
  (02) 893-7603 (Landline)
  0917-800-1123 (Globe)
  0922-893-8944 (mobile)
  
  

• Tawag Paglaum – Centro Bisaya (Cebu and Visayas Region) – 24/7
  0939-937-5433 (Smart/Sun)
  0927-654-1629 (Globe/TM)
  
  

• RAPHA Helpline (Mon–Fri, 8am–5pm)
  0961-718-2655
  
  

• Dial-a-Friend (Telephone Counseling)
  (02) 8525-1743
  (02) 8525-1881
  
  

• CARAGA Open Helpline
  0945-359-2632
  0948-224-1857
  085-817-6548
  
  

• Mood Harmony (Makati Medical Center Support Group for Mood Disorders)
  (02) 8844-2941
  
  

• Youth/Adolescent Helpline – UGAT Foundation (Mon–Sat, 9 AM–6 PM)
  (02) 893-7603
  
  

NOTE: If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, please call 911 or go to the nearest hospital/emergency room.

You deserve support—not just survival, but genuine healing.