It’s not always loud. Sometimes, the quietest person in the room is the one struggling the most. You might notice your friend stops laughing at jokes they used to love. Or your coworker, who always brought snacks to meetings, now sits with their head down, untouched coffee in front of them. These aren’t just bad days. They’re signals. And if you’re asking how to know if someone isn’t mentally doing well, you’re already paying attention-that matters more than you think.

They withdraw from people they used to care about

People don’t suddenly stop caring about their friends or family. When someone starts skipping calls, canceling plans last minute, or avoiding group chats, it’s not just being busy. It’s isolation. Mental health struggles often make social interaction feel exhausting, overwhelming, or even dangerous. A person who used to text back quickly might now take days. Someone who loved Sunday dinners might start saying they’re "just not hungry." This isn’t rudeness. It’s survival mode.

Changes in daily habits are a red flag

Your body and mind are linked. When someone’s mental health dips, their routines break. They might sleep too much-or not at all. They stop showering. They forget to eat. Or they binge-eat out of stress. One woman I know stopped making her morning coffee. Not because she didn’t like it, but because she couldn’t bring herself to stand at the counter for five minutes. That’s the kind of small thing that speaks volumes. If someone’s basic self-care collapses, it’s not laziness. It’s depression, anxiety, or burnout showing up in the most basic ways.

They talk differently-or stop talking altogether

Pay attention to how they speak. Do they use words like "nothing matters," "I’m a burden," or "why bother" more often? Do they laugh less, even when others are joking? Do they answer questions with one-word replies? People in emotional pain often speak in flat tones, avoid eye contact, or repeat the same phrases like a script they’ve memorized. On the flip side, some people over-explain, ramble, or fixate on small mistakes they’ve made. These aren’t personality quirks. They’re symptoms.

Physical symptoms show up without a medical cause

Mental health doesn’t stay in your head. It shows up in your body. Headaches. Stomachaches. Constant fatigue. Muscle tension. If someone keeps going to the doctor and getting cleared for everything physical, but still feels awful, it’s often emotional pain wearing a physical mask. I’ve seen people with chronic back pain that vanished after they started therapy. Their body was screaming what their mind couldn’t say.

They act out of character-or seem numb

Has your usually optimistic friend started snapping at people for no reason? Has your calm sibling become reckless-driving fast, spending money they don’t have, using substances more? Or has your quiet neighbor become completely blank, like a light went out behind their eyes? These aren’t "just being moody." They’re coping mechanisms. Anger, impulsivity, and emotional numbness are common responses to unresolved pain. When someone’s personality shifts in a way that feels off, it’s not them being difficult. It’s them hurting.

They give away things or talk about saying goodbye

This one is hard to hear, but it’s critical. If someone starts giving away prized possessions-books, jewelry, a guitar they’ve played for years-or says things like, "I won’t be around much longer," or "You’ll be better off without me," take it seriously. These aren’t metaphors. They’re cries for help. In New Zealand, suicide rates among young men have been rising for years. Many of those who died had told someone, directly or indirectly, that they were done. Not everyone means it. But if you hear it, you can’t afford to assume they’re joking.

They’re hyper-focused on failure or perfection

A person who used to celebrate small wins now fixates on every mistake. They delete posts because of one typo. They redo work three times because it’s not flawless. They apologize for existing. This isn’t ambition. It’s anxiety wearing a mask of discipline. Perfectionism often hides shame-the fear that if they’re not perfect, they’re worthless. It’s exhausting to live like that. And it’s a sign they’re carrying a heavy internal critic.

What to do when you notice these signs

You don’t need to be a therapist to help. You just need to be present. Start with a simple, non-judgmental question: "I’ve noticed you’ve seemed different lately. I care about you. How are you really doing?" Don’t rush to fix it. Don’t say "just cheer up." Don’t compare their pain to yours. Just listen. Let them sit in the silence. If they cry, let them. If they don’t answer, say, "I’m here whenever you’re ready."

Follow up. Not in a week. In three days. Send a text: "Just checking in. No need to reply." That’s often enough to make someone feel less alone. Encourage professional help-but don’t push. Offer to help them find a therapist, or sit with them while they make the call. In New Zealand, services like Lifeline and Youthline are free and available 24/7. Sometimes, just knowing someone else has noticed makes all the difference.

It’s not your job to save them

But it is your job to care. You can’t cure someone’s depression. You can’t talk someone out of anxiety. But you can be the person who shows up. Who doesn’t look away. Who says, "I see you," even when they feel invisible. Mental health isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about showing up, again and again, even when it’s awkward. Even when you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing.

Because sometimes, the only thing standing between someone and despair is one person who noticed they weren’t okay-and didn’t pretend they were.