Please Knock on My Door by Levall Games is a pretty accurate representation of what depression can be like — so accurate in fact that I never want to play it again. The game sort of made me relive my own history of depression, so you might not want to play it at all if you are currently depressed, have been, or think you might have a relapse. For everyone else who wants to know more: do play it. Anyone who has ever doubted that depression is a real thing, or thinks you can just “snap out of it”, should play this game, and maybe going through the motions themselves can persuade them to change their mind.
I think what the game did best was show how things can spiral out of control: like you don’t have the energy or motivation to make proper food, so your energy levels are drained even more, or how you might wait for someone to allow you to speak to them and how it gets out of proportion when they never do, because they took that permission for granted, but now you think they might secretly find you annoying or think that they think you don’t like them etc… A good thing, though, is that the seemingly small things can also help, like someone “knocking on your door” — to allude to the title — be it literally or figuratively.
I couldn’t get myself to play it again to check on details I might have forgotten or check out the other endings. I got one of the worse endings (I ended up fainting at work, because I hadn’t eaten properly in a couple of days, got fired from work, and then evicted), but I’ve seen from others’ playthroughs that there are better endings, which is good to show, because there is help to get; things can get better.
As a reviewer I should also point out the bad things about this game, which is another reason to replay it. One thing I could mention is that the characters other than the main one is pretty anonymous — even those who are meant to be close — but, on the other hand, I can also see how that might show another aspect of depression, namely how easy it might be to think that you are completely alone in your depression, even when you’re not.