They Said Depression Was Just 'Sadness': Our Brutally Honest Houston ISD Journey

Published on June 5, 2025 by NeuroMule AI Assistant

Category: Parenting Strategies

"Depression is just sadness," they said, as if it were a fleeting cloud you simply wait out. But let me tell you, there’s nothing simple about dragging yourself through Houston ISD’s mental health maze while your child sits in the corner of a dim classroom, clutching their chest like it’s fragile glass.

The faint, musty scent of textbooks mingled with stale cafeteria pizza as the clock ticked painfully slow. At exactly 3:13 PM, my phone buzzed with another email from the school counselor: "We need more time to evaluate."

I asked my son gently, "Are you sad?"

He tightened his lips and whispered, "It’s a weight, Mom. Not just feelings."

That moment shattered the myth for me. This isn’t just being blue—this is battling through a system that still treats depression like a bad mood, leaving families like mine firefighting in the dark.

If you’re exhausted but fiercely determined to fight for your child’s unseen battles, you’re not alone. Here’s our raw, no-sugar-coating journey through Houston ISD’s mental health services—full of challenges, small wins, and stubborn hope.

There’s a dangerous myth floating around Houston ISD: depression is "just sadness." Hearing that felt like a slap in the face when my child was struggling. I remember an ARD meeting bathed in harsh fluorescent light, where the counselor dismissed my child’s depression as "moodiness."

She said, "Sometimes kids just go through phases of being down. Probably nothing serious—just mood swings."

I couldn’t hold back: "Mood swings? After nights of silent tears, shutting everyone out, wanting to disappear?"

Frustration, confusion, exhaustion washed over me. I thought, How many parents have felt invisible hearing this? How many kids were just labeled "moody" instead of getting real help?

Here’s the cold truth: Houston ISD is staggering under an immense student population. The student-to-counselor ratio is a staggering 547:1 (HoustonLanding.org)—more than five times the recommended number for effective support. Imagine waiting weeks, even months, for a counseling session when your child is drowning in depression.

This oversimplification takes an emotional toll. You feel invisible, trivialized, and sometimes, hopeless.

Mental health stigma isn’t just embarrassment—it’s systemic barriers that stop kids from accessing help and leave parents unheard.

But communities are pushing back. Parents and organizations like Communities In Schools of Houston provide crucial mental health initiatives. The Harris Center for Mental Health offers behavioral health services tailored to kids like mine. Yet, these resources battle a tide still treating depression as just a "mood problem."

If you’re worn thin and misunderstood, know you’re in good company. Keep advocating—loudly and fiercely—for your child’s needs. What your child feels is real, complex, and worthy of compassionate care.

Walking into that ARD meeting, I felt like a soldier thrust onto a battlefield without armor. The worn chairs, fluorescent hum overhead, and stacks of papers—budgets, cuts, restructuring plans—dragged my hope down like quicksand.

Houston ISD had just announced major cuts to the special education department. The biggest blow? Eliminating the autism support team.

For my child, navigating autism and depression, that team wasn’t just staff—it was a lifeline. They understood that depression isn’t just sadness—it's a profound, painful condition needing tailored support.

Without them, trying to find mental health resources felt like shouting into the void.

Did you know Houston ISD’s student-to-counselor ratio was 547:1 as of 2022? (Houston Landing). That’s more than five times the recommended number for a counselor to manage effectively. In a sea of hundreds, kids with complex needs like depression slip through cracks.

What does this mean for parents? It means endless obstacles where there should be open doors. Hours spent fighting not only for education but for mental health resources that should be a given.

Parent groups like Autism Moms of Houston have become beacons for families, urging everyone to demand better before these cuts cause permanent damage. (KHOU)

At that meeting, the tension was thick. Officials talked budgets in a cold tone: "We need to tighten them." But to us parents, it felt like lives being trimmed away.

A fellow mom leaned over and whispered, "Who’s going to fight for our kids now?"

That question echoed in my mind. We’re not just battling red tape—we’re fighting for real children with real stories.

This journey demands grit, community, and relentless advocacy. The stakes couldn’t be higher, but neither is our determination.

Juggling. That’s the word I keep coming back to when I think about managing school, therapy, appointments, and all the paperwork.

One Wednesday morning: bitter coffee, a grimy kitchen window barely letting in sunlight, and a bag stuffed with forms that looked more like ancient manuscripts than helpful guides.

The system seemed against us—from Houston ISD’s overwhelming 547:1 student-to-counselor ratio (HoustonLanding.org) to special education restructuring that slashed autism support roles (FOX26 Houston).

But in the chaos, we found our village.

Communities In Schools of Houston’s Mental Health Initiative became a lifeline for my child. Their counseling groups offered a warm presence amid cold struggles—support that understands crisis as the whispered anxiety at 2 a.m. and quiet sobs at school’s end.

The Harris Center provides behavioral health services tailored for neurodivergent kids like mine, recognizing and validating our battles (The Harris Center).

But the practical reality isn’t neat. Picture me racing between a morning Harris Center session and an afternoon CIS group meeting, clutching crumpled schedules and hunting for bus fare.

The weight: tight chest, shaky hands, unshed tears.

And the parents? The real heroes. At meetings, weary introductions turn into shared stories and searching strategies.

"Has anyone else had their IEP meeting hijacked by paperwork confusion?"

"Yes! And don’t get me started on counseling waitlists!"

Groups like Autism Moms of Houston are a brutal honesty club where no topic is off-limits. They fight not just for services, but for respect and understanding (KHOU).

Amid all this, NeuroMule became my sanity saver—a personal assistant fluent in IEP and mental health jargon. It helped me track appointments, decode confusing documents, and log changes in behavior and medication side effects.

Without it? Overwhelm would have won.

Here’s a quick guide for parents navigating mental health support in Houston ISD:

  • Document everything: Keep a log of symptoms, meetings, emails, and behaviors.
  • Be persistent: Follow up regularly on referrals, evaluations, and appointments.
  • Connect with community resources: Reach out to organizations like Communities In Schools of Houston and the Harris Center.
  • Join parent advocacy groups: Groups like Autism Moms of Houston can give you support and collective power.
  • Know your rights: Familiarize yourself with special education and mental health policies.

Remember, it’s okay to ask for help. You’re not alone.

Depression isn't just sadness; it’s a complex challenge often misunderstood, especially within school systems.

Our Houston ISD journey taught us the importance of fierce advocacy—pushing through fatigue, confusion, and mountains of paperwork.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to carry this weight alone.

Lean on the strength of community, shared stories, and practical tools that make a difference.

Tools like NeuroMule can be game-changers—helping you stay organized, manage appointments and paperwork, and spot patterns in your child’s behavior.

It’s like having your calmest, smartest buddy right there in the trenches with you.

So keep fighting. Stay determined.

And remember, you’re not navigating this alone.

Together, we can rewrite the story for our kids and families—from overwhelm and misunderstanding to empowerment and hope.

If you’re ready to lighten your load and gain a clearer view of this challenging journey, give NeuroMule a try. Every bit of support helps, and every voice matters.