A Note From the Sidelines: From the Ones Who Watch

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- Joshita Gupta, MSc. FY Applied Psychology

I’ve learned to read the silence. Not the comfortable quiet of a shared room, but the kind that feels heavy, like a dense fog. It’s in the way you look at a window, feeling like you're seeing a world that isn't yours anymore. It's in the way your laugh, once a full and vibrant sound, has become a fragile echo that seems to break as soon as it's born. I see you retreating, pulling the blinds on a soul that used to radiate warmth. Every small retreat is a quiet earthquake, and I feel the ground beneath me tremble.

I see the war you're fighting, though it rages in silence. I see the invisible weight that sags your shoulders and the exhaustion that lives in your eyes. I want you to know that the empathy I feel for your pain is not a burden; it's a deep, profound reverence for what you are enduring. I am a mountain in your storm. I do not need to fight the wind for you; I only need to be here, an unshakable and quiet presence that you can lean against. I can't walk in your shoes, but I can stand beside you, offering the smallest of comforts—a cup of tea, a moment of silence, the simple knowledge that you are not alone in this fight. This is my truest act of love: to be the still point in your turning world, a silent promise that I am not leaving.

I know the voice in your head tells you that you are alone, that you are a burden, that the world would be better off without you. That voice is a cruel and masterful liar. It is a parasite that has no right to your mind. But you have a power it doesn’t: the power to speak. To just whisper, "I'm not okay." That single act, that tiny crack in the dam, can change everything. It's a hand reaching out, and I promise you, there are so many hands waiting to grasp yours.

On this day, I want to say to you, and to anyone who has ever felt that suffocating weight, that your life is a story that isn't finished. It has twists and turns, maybe some moments of joy and moments of sorrow. But please, please don't let this be the final chapter. I, and so many others, want to know how the story ends. We want to read every page of it with you. We are not giving up on you. We are here, with our hands outstretched, just waiting for you to take them.

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