I grew up with the notion it was not socially acceptable to speak about mental health or therapy. If you did, you risked someone you knew hearing about it. And if, god forbid, they did, then they would judge your family and shun you.

"The real world doesn't always have time to listen to all your problems," adults in my life would say to me, "If they do, all they want is your money."

That was hard to hear because I needed someone to talk to. My early teenage years were incredibly stressful. I transitioned from the quiet world of Jewish day school to a highly competitive private school, and that was a huge stressor. Family issues — including a major divorce — weighed heavily on me. Underneath it all was the anger and confusion I felt toward my absent, mentally-ill father.

When I tried to talk about it, my “loud” questions were answered in hushed voices. 

It wasn't until I joined Tumblr that I found a community of people eager to vent about their mental health issues. Many of those posting were my age or a couple of years older (aka late Millennial to early Gen Z), and they struggled with issues ranging from depression and anxiety to eating disorders and OCD. 

I found myself wanting to console these people. Or, at the very least, wanting to give them any online resources and advice columns I could find. There was no judgment. No misguided statements. No fear of repercussion. Just one person seeing another person's pain and offering a helping hand.

I hit a breaking point in my mental health after getting out of an emotionally abusive relationship during my 1st semester of college. Ending the relationship and trying to coming to terms with what I’d been through left me in a state of denial and hopelessness. 

I decided the best move at that time would be to see one of the therapists in the student health center.

For 5 months, I placed myself in front of this person and started to gently pry open the cracks of my heart and let out my worries and burdens. There were, of course, moments when I was uncomfortable. There were also moments when my stomach wasn't constricted or begging me to run out, and I answered each question as best as I could.

After those 5 months, I stopped going. 

Why? 

1) The school year was over and I had to leave for an internship and 2) I felt I had gotten what I needed out of therapy. 

Of course, my school therapist didn't think so. She suggested I try getting a referral to an outside office, but understood when I gently refused.

I’m not currently in therapy because I don’t feel like I need it right now. There might come a time when I feel differently, and it’s comforting to know that therapy will always be an option that’s available to me.