“You Ain’t in My Shoes, For You Will Never Understand What I Am Going Thru…”

The world outside the window seemed so ordinary.

Cars moved along the street, and people chatted, laughed, and went about their day. But inside, sat a motionless, staring blankly at the floor a person who taught him his life ain't real, and that person's name was J. The noise of the world felt distant, almost like a movie being played in the background of a life that no longer seemed worth living.

J had been struggling for what seemed like an eternity. But no one knew, not really. On the outside, he was the one who always had it together. The one who kept smiling through it all, who made sure never to show the cracks in his armour.

"Why can’t I just tell someone?"

But every time J had tried, it always ended the same way.

"You're just being dramatic."

"Everyone has problems, get over it."

"You're craving attention."

Those words echoed, louder than any cry for help J had ever dared to make. The last time he had tried to open up, his closest friend had looked at him and laughed.

"You? Come on, you’ve got everything going for you. Stop fishing for sympathy."

That was the moment the walls went up for good. The shame of being brushed off, the feeling of being misunderstood—it was unbearable. Why did no one see it? The sleepless nights, the constant voice inside that whispered, "You’re not good enough. You don’t matter. We don't need you."

J knew who these people were who said these things. well-educated people he could say, One person was a manager in a departmental store who couldn't save her marriage and divorce. the other was also a businessman who couldn't save his marriage from having issues.

These types of people have no right to speak or give advice...

The thing is, no one really could understand.

The pain was invisible. It wasn’t like a broken leg that people could see and empathize with. It was a storm inside J’s mind, relentless and suffocating. And the worst part was that the people around him, the ones who should have cared the most, became the very ones who pushed him further away.

"If they can’t see it, maybe it’s not real."

J had started to believe that. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe he was the problem. After all, if everyone thought he was just seeking attention, maybe that’s all it was. But deep down, J knew this was more than that. The world felt like it was closing in, inch by inch, suffocating him under the weight of his thoughts.

One afternoon, it all became too much.

The voices of doubt and judgment were louder than ever. Every attempt to reach out had only ended in hurt. J stood by the window, staring out at the world that continued to turn without them.

"What’s the point? I’m just a burden to everyone. They don’t see me, they don’t understand. Why should I keep fighting when it doesn’t matter?"

But just as that thought took hold, there was a knock at the door.

It was Emma, a coworker. Someone J barely knew beyond casual greetings and the occasional shared coffee. But today, Emma’s face looked different—genuine concern.

"I just… I don’t know why, but I’ve noticed you’ve been off lately. You don’t have to talk, but I’m here to listen if you need someone."

J stood frozen, unsure how to respond. No one had ever said that before. There was no judgment in Emma’s voice, no dismissive laughter, no accusations of attention-seeking. Just… someone willing to listen.

They sat down.

At first, the words didn’t come easily. J wasn’t used to being vulnerable anymore. But as Emma sat there, patient and silent, something inside J began to unravel. Slowly, they started to talk. About the long nights of insomnia, the crushing weight of anxiety, the feelings of worthlessness.

There was no rush, no pressure. And for the first time in what felt like forever, J wasn’t interrupted or brushed off.

"I know I’ll never fully understand," Emma said softly, "But you don’t have to go through this alone."

The smallest moment of kindness.

It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t some miracle solution that immediately cured J of all the pain. But it was a start.

Emma didn’t try to fix things. She didn’t pretend to know what J was going through. But she didn’t need to. All she did was listen—and in that listening, J found a glimmer of hope.

For the first time in a long time, J felt seen. Not judged, not belittled, but truly seen.

As days went by, things weren’t perfect. The thoughts still lingered, and the darkness still crept in from time to time. But now, J knew that someone was willing to walk alongside them, even if they couldn’t fully understand the journey.

Closing Reflection:

You may never fully understand what someone is going through. You may never walk in their shoes. But that’s okay. What matters is being there—being a presence that listens without judgment, and offers support without needing to fix everything.

Because sometimes, just knowing someone cares enough to be there is enough to pull a person back from the edge.

Message:

You don’t need to have all the answers to help someone struggling with mental health. Being willing to listen and show empathy can be the lifeline someone needs. No one should suffer in silence. Let’s make sure they don’t have to.

God Bless Us All...

Jacob M