Let’s start with something I’m sure isn’t always easy to talk about: I’m seeing a psychiatrist. And yes, I’m okay with admitting that. Mental health should be something we can discuss openly without shame or fear of judgment. After all, it’s just as important as physical health, if not more.
Now, I know some of you might be wondering what brought me to this point. Well, let’s rewind a little. 18 months ago, I experienced the loss of my mum — a grief so deep, so all-encompassing, that it rocked me to my core. Losing a loved one is never easy, but when it’s a parent, it’s a kind of pain that changes everything. The way you see the world, the way you see yourself, and most definitely the way you approach your day-to-day life.
For me, it wasn’t just about the mourning; it was about trying to carry on in the wake of that loss. I continued working at Buzz Bingo, even though every day felt like a battle. I’d show up, put on a smile, and do what I needed to do. But inside, I was struggling to keep it together. The grief hung over me like a dark cloud, and no matter how hard I tried to push through, the weight of it all began to affect my work. I was distracted, drained, and often felt like I was going through the motions, rather than actually living.
After a lot of soul-searching, I reluctantly made the decision to give up my job at the bingo hall. It wasn’t an easy choice. Walking away from something I had done for so long, something that was part of my routine, was hard. But it was also an act of self-preservation. I thought maybe stepping back and giving myself some space would help me feel better, would allow me the time to heal.
But even with time off, I realized I still wasn’t okay. The grief lingered, and I started to feel more disconnected from myself and from my purpose. And that’s when I realized I needed more than just time — I needed help. I needed someone who could help me unpack the emotions, the stress, and the exhaustion I was carrying around.
And so, I turned to a psychiatrist.
I know that seeing a psychiatrist might sound intimidating to some, but let me tell you: it’s been one of the most positive steps I’ve taken in my mental health journey. A psychiatrist isn’t just about someone to talk to — they can offer insight into how our minds work and how we can address the deeper, more complex emotional struggles. For me, it’s been about getting to the root of what I’m feeling, addressing it head-on, and finding ways to better manage it.
I’m sharing this with you not to seek sympathy, but because I think it’s important for all of us to realize that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. Mental health should be prioritized just like physical health. And if you’re going through something similar, whether it’s the loss of a loved one, work stress, or something else entirely, please know that it’s okay to reach out for support.
Life can throw a lot at us, and there’s no shame in saying, “I need help.” Whether it’s a psychiatrist, a therapist, or a friend, there’s no weakness in taking care of yourself. In fact, it’s one of the strongest things you can do.
So, that’s my story. A journey that’s still unfolding, but one that I’m learning to embrace. I’ll keep going to therapy because I know it’s helping me heal, and I hope that by sharing this, I can encourage others to take care of their own mental well-being, too. You matter. You’re worth it.
And if you’re going through something tough right now, remember: it’s okay to not be okay. Take your time. Ask for help. You deserve it.