There are moments when you hear a song and it feels like the artist reached into your soul and put your tangled emotions into words. That’s exactly what happened when I discovered “Colorblind” by Mokita. From the very first listen, it was like someone finally understood the heavy, confusing feelings I’ve been carrying around.

The song starts with this quiet honesty: “Slow down, I know you wanna understand / So I’ll explain the best I can / What this pain feels like.” It’s exactly how I feel when well-meaning people ask me what’s wrong. How do you explain something that doesn’t have a shape or a name? Mokita doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, but just hearing someone try to put it into words makes me feel less alone.

Then there’s the part that hits me hardest: “It’s hard / Cause even as I’m sitting here / I would rather disappear / Than face the world outside.” Some days, just being feels like too much. The thought of pretending to be okay, of going through the motions—it’s exhausting. Hearing those words in the song is like a quiet nod from someone who gets it.

But it’s the chorus that really stays with me: “It’s like I’m colorblind / Cause everybody’s world’s in color / Except for mine.” That’s exactly how depression feels. Life keeps moving around you, bright and loud and full, but you’re stuck watching from behind glass. You can see the colors, but you can’t quite reach them.

I keep coming back to this song because it does what good music should—it makes the unsayable sayable. It doesn’t fix anything, but it helps to know that somewhere out there, someone else has felt this too. And maybe, if you’re reading this, you’ve felt it as well. That’s the strange comfort of songs like this—they remind us that even in our loneliest moments, we’re not entirely alone.

Have you ever heard a song that felt like it was written just for you? I’d love to know which one it was.