Mental Health Isn’t Pastel Quotes – It’s Showing Up When You’re Falling Apart

People think mental health is all aesthetic journals, soft-life affirmations, and quotes like “Protect your peace” written in pastel fonts.

They don’t show the nights you stare at the ceiling thinking:
“If life had a customer care line, I would like to return my own.”

That was me last year.

My anxiety was doing weightlifting with my brain. My depression was squatting on my chest like a stubborn gym bro refusing to re-rack the plates.

And therapy? I always thought therapy was for rich people with soft tears and scented candles.

But one Tuesday—portable speaker blasting Burna Boy from the upstairs neighbor—I found myself in a clinic lobby. Fluorescent lights, cold chairs, people pretending not to look broken.

A receptionist looked up and asked:
“First time in mental health therapy?”

I nodded.
“Yeah… please don’t use the big grammar. My problems are already complex enough.”

She laughed lightly and handed me a form.

While filling it, I kept thinking:
What if my therapist judges me? What if I cry? What if I crack jokes to avoid crying—like I normally do?

They finally called:
“David? Your therapist is ready.”

The room was warm. Plants everywhere. A diffuser that smelled like the expensive corner of a spa.

My therapist, Dr. Lara, smiled:
“Tell me what brings you here.”

I wanted to say:
“Well ma, I am one small inconvenience away from running mad.”

But instead…
I said nothing.

Then everything spilled out.

We talked about burnout, panic attacks, my constant fear that everyone secretly hates me, and how I kept clapping back at trauma like it was a TikTok trend.

She said something that changed everything:
“You don’t have to hit rock bottom to ask for help. You only need to notice you’re slipping.”

We created a plan:
• Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to challenge toxic thoughts
• Mindfulness to breathe like a human being
• Lifestyle changes to stop living on anxiety and Indomie

She gave homework:
“Every night, write one thing you did well. Even if it’s small.”

Week after week…
I showed up.

Some sessions were breakthroughs.
Some were breakdowns.

But here’s the twist.

One day, after months of trying, I woke up fine.
Like… actually fine.

No mental war.
No emotional hangover.

So I rushed to therapy like a kid with good grades.

I walked in smiling:
“Doc! I think I’m cured! We did it!”

She looked at me, calmly sipping water:
“That’s amazing. But we’re not done yet.”

I frowned.
“But I feel normal again.”

She nodded:
“Yes. And this phase is where most people quit therapy… then crash later.”

My happiness paused like YouTube buffering.

She leaned forward:
“Mental health is like fitness. You don’t stop going to the gym just because your abs showed up.”

That line hit me deeper than a heartbreak playlist.

We spent the next sessions building emotional strength, not just relieving pain:
• Healthy communication
• Recognizing triggers
• Setting boundaries without guilt
• Choosing rest without shame

Now?

My life is not magically perfect.
Some days, anxiety still knocks.
Some nights, sleep still plays hard to get.

But I have tools.
I have awareness.
I have a therapist who claps for my progress like a proud auntie at graduation.

Last session, as we wrapped up, I asked jokingly:
“So when do I get my trophy for healing?”

She smiled:
“Your trophy is waking up each day and still choosing yourself.”

So if you’re reading this…
Feeling overwhelmed, overthinking, or over life…

Please hear me:

[todays_birthdays]

Therapy is not weakness.
Asking for help is not failure.
Taking care of your mental health is not a luxury.

Start with one step:
Book an appointment.
Take a walk.
Drink water.
Cry if you need to.

Healing doesn’t always feel like healing.
Sometimes it feels like chaos.
Sometimes it feels like nothing.

Then one day…
You wake up feeling alive again.

And that?
That is the plot twist you deserve.