🌿 The Weight I Didn’t Know I Carried: My Mental Health Journey

For the longest time, I believed mental health struggles were something that happened to other people. You know—the ones who had gone through major trauma or showed visible signs of distress. I was the “strong friend,” the one who always had a smile, a solution, and a shoulder to lean on.

But behind that façade, I was quietly falling apart.

It started in my second year of university. The pressure to keep up with academics, maintain friendships, and meet expectations became unbearable. I’d wake up with a tight chest, already dreading the day ahead. Lectures blurred together, and social events felt draining. I kept telling myself it was just stress. Everyone goes through it, right?

Weeks passed. Then months. And one night, after submitting a paper I barely understood, I broke down. I cried for hours, alone in my room. That was the moment I realized this wasn’t just stress—it was something deeper.

I reached out to my roommate, who had once mentioned going to therapy. She listened without judgment and gently suggested I visit the campus counseling center. I was terrified. Admitting I needed help felt like admitting defeat. But walking into that office turned out to be one of the bravest things I’ve ever done.

The counselor didn’t fix me—because I wasn’t broken. But she helped me understand the anxiety and perfectionism that had quietly shaped my life. Through therapy, I learned how to set boundaries, how to breathe through panic, and how to be kinder to myself.

It wasn’t a straight path. There were setbacks and hard days. But slowly, I began to feel lighter. I started journaling, meditating, and—most importantly—talking. I opened up to friends about my mental health, and to my surprise, many of them had been struggling too. We just hadn’t known how to say it.

Now, I speak openly about mental health because silence only deepens the struggle. If you’re reading this and feel like you’re drowning, please know: you’re not alone. There’s help. There’s hope. And asking for support isn’t weakness—it’s courage.