The Truth About Seeking Help: Breaking Stigma and Finding Healing
When I was twenty years old, I was hospitalized in a psychiatric unit. I did not know how to access care, and I was not sure if going to therapy meant I was weak for not being able to handle my emotions on my own. The stigma around mental health told me I should be able to manage everything myself and that asking for help was “giving up.” I was afraid to speak about my emotions and inner pain because I did not want anyone to know I was struggling. And when I finally reached for support, I had no idea where to go or how to find care that actually matched my needs.
I began neurofeedback therapy and cognitive behavioral therapy, seeing a psychotherapist four days a week. I stayed with that therapist far too long, even when I knew I was not receiving what I truly needed, because I did not know how to find another one. I thought maybe this was all the help that existed. How many of us remain in unhealthy situations simply because we do not know what else is possible? For years, I went through a painful cycle of quitting therapy after poor experiences, only to return in moments of desperation.
As I reflect on those years of silence, I ask myself: Why was I denying my body and my mind the healing they needed?
Even now, as a therapist and mental health advocate, I still struggle to cry in front of people. I am afraid of being seen as weak, afraid of my vulnerability being dismissed the way it was in the past. That fear is what stigma does. It robs us of healing, steals our voices, and convinces us that pain must be hidden.
This is why I connected so deeply with Dr. Mala Malgeri’s words in our conversation. She said, “Your body keeps the score. If you do not make space to process, your body will hold it until you do.” Hearing that reminded me just how deeply stigma runs and why breaking it matters. She also said, “There is strength in actually expressing your emotions, not in stoicism.” For so long, I silenced my emotions, fearing that tears would make me appear weak. If I had believed otherwise at twenty years old, perhaps I would have spoken sooner, cried sooner, and healed sooner. Strength does not come from silence. Strength comes from saying, “I am not okay.”
Dr. Mala also said something that shifted the way I think about vulnerability: “Tears are brain sweat. It just means your brain and body are processing things.” All those times I swallowed my tears out of fear of judgment, I was not showing strength. I was withholding the very thing my body needed. Healing requires honesty. Healing requires letting your body release what it has been holding. All along, I thought mental health care was not working for me, while I was denying myself the most basic forms of healing.
Here is a reminder for us all: Crying is not weakness. Crying is medicine.
Dr. Mala also reminded me that it is easy to look at the staircase of recovery and feel overwhelmed. Our minds want to jump to the top, and the journey feels impossible. Real growth comes from taking one step at a time. Recovery is not about climbing the entire staircase in one attempt. It is about finding the courage to take the next step, even when your legs are shaking. All you have to do is move from this moment to the next. It is not about tomorrow or the future. It is about the next right step for you, right now.
Today, I carry that mission into the very spaces I once felt so lost. On Mondays, I visit the UCLA psychiatric unit in collaboration with NAMI WLA. I read children’s books to the under-twelve unit and share my story with the adolescent patients. I see myself in their faces. I want them to know they are not broken. I want them to know there is no shame in needing care. I want them to know they are not alone. I also bring my art therapy board game to DiDi Hirsch, creating moments of connection, reflection, and expression. And in those rooms, I see hope come alive again.
Every week, my Monday routine reminds me of this truth: we all deserve support. We are all worthy of care that helps us heal. And our pain is not, and never will be, our identity.
I live this work because I do not want anyone to feel the way I once did—hopeless, invalidated, and afraid to ask for help. I want every person to know there is hope. There is care. There is a future where you feel understood.
The system may not have shown up for me when I needed it, and I will spend my life showing up for others.
Dr. Mala said, “You do not have to wait for a crisis to ask for help. You can choose to begin your healing today.” That is something I wish I had known when I was twenty years old. How different could my journey have been if I had believed I was allowed to ask for help before everything fell apart?
If you are struggling to access care, please know this: you are not failing. The system is difficult to navigate, and stigma makes it even harder. You deserve better. And you deserve to keep searching until you find the support that meets you where you are.
Healing is not about perfection. Healing is about persistence. Healing is about choosing, again and again, to believe that your life is worth saving.
And here is the reminder I want to leave with you: You do not have to do this alone.
Making Mental Health Care Accessible: How to Navigate Recovery.com with Dr. Mala C. Malgeri is available now on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and wherever you listen.
