A closed bedroom door at the end of a corridor, a thin strip of light underneath.
Guide · being there

They shut the door
and I don’t know if it’s normal.

One-word answers. They’ve dropped things they used to love. They snap at nothing. And you’ve spent weeks turning the same question over: is this adolescence doing its thing — which is also frightening and also exhausting — or is something wrong? This guide is about telling those apart, because there are three fairly clear criteria and almost nobody knows them.

If there is danger right now, stop reading and call your local emergency number.

Miguel Díaz Zamacona
By Miguel Díaz Zamacona Psychologist · Guide · 9 min read

First: in a teenager it doesn’t look like sadness

Here’s the main reason parents miss it. You’re looking for someone low and tearful, because that’s how you picture depression — and that isn’t usually how it looks at that age.

In adolescents it shows up far more as irritability, anger, tiredness, withdrawal and physical complaints: stomach aches, headaches with no cause found. A kid who is struggling can spend the day snapping and the evening shut in their room. From outside that looks like a bad attitude. Inside it’s often something else.

And one detail confuses people badly: they can seem fine when they want to be. Laughing with friends in the afternoon and collapsing in their room on getting home. That variability doesn’t mean they’re exaggerating or doing it to annoy you; in adolescents it’s exactly what you’d expect.

The three criteria

Almost everything worrying you also appears in teenagers who are perfectly fine. What separates one from the other isn’t what they do, but three measures.

One: how long it lasts. A normal dip lifts in a few days, usually when whatever caused it resolves. If it’s been two weeks or more without changing, that duration alone justifies raising it with a professional. It doesn’t have to be dramatic: persistent is enough.

Two: how heavy it is. Is it being low, or is it stopping them functioning? Struggling to get up, unable to concentrate, ordinary tasks becoming impossible. Intensity is measured in what they can no longer do.

Three: how much of their life it reaches. This is the most useful of the three. A teenager sad about a break-up is sad about that, but still laughs with their closest friend. When whatever it is has coloured everything — school, friends, home, what they used to love — it’s no longer a bad patch with a cause: it’s something that has settled in.

Duration, intensity, reach. If all three point the same way, your concern isn’t an overreaction.

Other signs worth watching

Dropping what they loved. Quitting the team, the music, the usual group. It’s among the most reliable signs, and one of the most often explained away as “they’re just not into it now”.

Grades falling in someone who was doing fine. Not for the grades themselves: because concentration is one of the first things to go.

Big changes in sleep or eating. Careful with sleep: going to bed late and struggling to get up is NORMAL at that age — the internal clock genuinely shifts — and it isn’t laziness. What to watch is sleeping for hours during the day, or not sleeping out of distress.

And substance use or risky behaviour. Sometimes it isn’t rebellion: it’s the way they’ve found of switching something off.

What to do, and what not to

Don’t open with a diagnosis. “I think you’re depressed” forces them to defend against a label. What you’ve seen works better: “you haven’t seen anyone in three weeks, and you used to go out every Saturday”.

Talk about you, not about them. “I’m worried about you” can’t be argued with and doesn’t accuse. It’s the door that opens most often.

And don’t do it face-on. Teenagers talk far better sideways: in the car, doing the washing-up, walking the dog. Without eye contact and without it feeling like a summoned meeting. A conversation standing in the kitchen lasts longer than one sitting opposite each other in the living room.

Sit with the silence and the “nothing”. The first answer is almost always “nothing, I’m fine”. Don’t take it as final: take it as the door staying open. Repeating calmly a couple of times a week does more than pressing for a whole day.

Don’t promise absolute secrecy, and say so early: “what you tell me stays between us, unless I think you’re in danger — because then I’ll get help, and I’d rather you knew that now”.

And if they say they want to see a psychologist, don’t interpret it. Not “are you that bad?” and not “let’s discuss it at home”. A teenager asking is rare and valuable: you book the appointment, full stop.

When to seek help

Talk to their doctor — the GP or paediatrician is the easiest door, with the least label — if the three criteria point the same way, if it’s been two weeks or more, if they’ve stopped functioning at school or with friends, or simply if you’ve had the feeling for a while that something is off. That intuition, in parents, is right more often than people think. Here’s how to find a professional, and if they refuse to go, this other guide is entirely about that.

And don’t wait if there’s self-harm, if they talk about not wanting to go on, if they’ve stopped eating or going out altogether, or if you notice they’ve lost contact with reality. Then it’s today: their doctor, emergency services, or one of these lines — they answer adults calling about a young person too.

I’ll end with the most reassuring thing and the most forgotten: asking doesn’t spoil anything. If you’re wrong and it was only a bad patch, the only thing that will have happened is that your child knows you were paying attention. That doesn’t harm anyone.

So the next one doesn’t pass you by.

One letter a month. It arrives on some Sunday.