There’s this unspoken rule in society that tells us not to talk about the hard stuff. We’re expected to smile through our struggles, keep quiet about our anxiety, and pretend depression is just a bad mood we’ll snap out of. I’ve learned that when people hear the words mental illness, they sometimes hear weakness or brokenness. And that stigma? It can be louder than the actual illness itself.
When I started sharing my journey through addiction, anxiety, and recovery, I knew I was stepping into vulnerable territory. But I never imagined just how many sideways looks, dismissive comments, and uncomfortable silences I’d face along the way. Even now, there are days when someone hears “therapy,” and their eyes flicker like I’ve just admitted to something shameful.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month
May is Mental Health Awareness Month—a time when we’re encouraged to have real conversations about the silent battles we carry. But for some of us, these conversations aren’t just seasonal—they’re daily. They live in our thoughts, our relationships, our recovery, and in the way the world responds to us.
I’ve walked the road of addiction and anxiety, and while recovery has brought healing, the stigma surrounding mental health still shows up in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. The truth is, we don’t talk about it enough. And when we do, we’re often met with shame, judgment, or pity.
The Weight of Misunderstanding
When people find out you’ve struggled with your mental health, there’s this moment. Sometimes it’s a pause in the conversation. Other times it’s a comment like, “But you seem fine now,” or “Everyone gets stressed.” It’s a signal that they don’t really understand—and maybe don’t want to.
Mental illness is invisible, but stigma makes it feel like a spotlight is on you. I’ve been in spaces where sharing my truth meant being labeled as unstable, dramatic, or “too much.” And honestly? That hurts more than the anxiety itself sometimes.
How I Face the Stigma
This stigma used to silence me. I’d second-guess myself, wondering if I was overreacting or being “weak.” But over time, I’ve learned that honesty is not weakness. Vulnerability is power. And every time I share my story, I make space for someone else to breathe a little easier.
Here’s how I push back:
I own my narrative. I don’t let others define what it means to live with anxiety, or what recovery from addiction should look like. I define it for myself, and I share it openly—on this blog, in conversations, and in how I live.
I protect my peace. Not everyone gets access to my struggle. If someone responds with judgment instead of compassion, I remind myself: their reaction says more about them than it does about me.
I speak for those who can’t—yet. There was a time when I didn’t have the words. So now, I use mine for the people still finding theirs.
The Comments That Cut—and the Ones That Heal
Yes, I’ve heard the unhelpful stuff:
“It’s all in your head.”
“Just get over it.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
But I’ve also heard the words that keep me going:
“Your blog helped me feel seen.”
“Thank you for saying what I was too afraid to say.”
“Now I know I’m not alone.”
That’s the power of breaking the silence. And that’s why this month—and every month—I keep showing up.
You Are Not Alone
If you or someone you know is struggling, please know this:
You are not broken. You are not weak. You are not alone.
Mental health is just as important as physical health—and healing is possible.
Resources for Support:
National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI): www.nami.org | Helpline: 1-800-950-NAMI (6264)
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA): www.samhsa.gov | Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988 for free, confidential support 24/7
Mental Health America: www.mhanational.org
Call to Action: Let’s Talk About It
This Mental Health Awareness Month, let’s normalize the conversation.
Share this post. Start a dialogue. Check in on your people. And if you’re struggling—reach out. You deserve help, healing, and hope.
Let’s keep showing up—for ourselves, and for one another.
We are still human. We are still healing.
And we are still thriving.
