The journey through mental health challenges is one that often feels isolating, misunderstood, and deeply personal. It is a path where words often fail, and emotions defy description. The weight of an invisible burden becomes a constant companion, leaving those affected grasping for ways to communicate their pain and longing for connection. Yet, amidst the struggles, there lies a quiet resilience—a flicker of hope that refuses to be extinguished even in the darkest moments.

During a particularly difficult time, someone—desperate to help—said to me, “Tell me how you feel.” We’ve all heard the phrase “a penny for your thoughts,” but there isn’t enough currency in the world to explain what I was feeling. That’s one of the most frustrating parts: trying to express something so complex and internal to others, or worse, pretending everything is fine. That act—the mask—doesn’t last. Eventually, it caught up with me. Later, I read about how the late Robin Williams battled depression. He once told a friend it was like “walking around with your hair on fire, but no one could see the flames.” I understood that completely.

The most frustrating thing for me has been trying to shed light on how I feel so others will understand. It is not easy to explain, nor to understand.  However, on several occasions I have been told things like, “you need to snap out of it”, “shake it off”, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Though perhaps intended as encouragement, those words only deepened my sense of isolation. They made me feel as if I had chosen this, as if I had decided not to function. In truth, they set me back.

We all have people in our lives that need support from time to time. When it comes to mental wellness, it can be difficult to know what to say or do.  There is no recipe, no quick fix, no magic formula, and certainly no “better” that appears overnight. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve cared deeply about how others perceived me. But over time, I’ve learned that how I see myself matters even more. Coping and healing look different for everyone. For some, it might be reading, biking, walking, running, kayaking, sitting on a beach, listening to birdsong or the rush of water. Always, for some, the companionship of our furry canine and feline friends is a mainstay. It might be a combination of these things—or something else entirely. The wonderful thing is you get to choose what constitutes you new normal.

When people say they don’t know what to say to help someone going through a hard time, the best advice I can give is this: just be there. Let them know you care. They are not looking to be fixed—trust me—they’re already doing the hard work.