Jaskiran X Exhale Warriors
Mental health has always been a topic I found hard to talk about. It was something I kept tucked away, almost as if acknowledging it made it real. For a long time, I thought I was supposed to just push through after all, I had a career that looked promising, friends who cared, and a family who, though supportive, didn’t really understand what I was going through. But in 2017, when I was 21 and fresh off a promotion that seemed to signal the start of a dream career, the cracks in my life started to show. On the outside, things looked good, but inside, I was struggling.
My focus at work began to waver. I felt distant from the people around me, and a deep sadness lingered from years past, especially the loss of my dog in 2014. People around me offered the usual advice: take a vacation, tough it out, keep busy but nothing resonated. It wasn’t until a random conversation with a mental health ally at work that I learned therapy could be a path forward. At first, the idea of reaching out to a counselor felt daunting. I was unsure of how my friends and family would react. In my family, mental health wasn’t something we talked about, and I feared being dismissed or misunderstood.
Still, I took the plunge. Therapy gave me clarity. I learned how much my workplace environment was amplifying my anxiety. Changing jobs brought me the relief I desperately needed, reminding me how important it is to surround myself with positivity and support.
Then came 2020 the pandemic. It was a time that tested everyone’s resilience in ways we hadn’t anticipated. Despite having stability in my job and living situation, the weight of the world’s collective pain became almost too much to bear. During this time, I did something I had never done before: I talked to my parents about my mental health. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but it marked the beginning of an open dialogue that was long overdue in our family.
Loss has been another defining part of my journey. Recently, I lost my best friend, someone who had always been there for me. The grief was overwhelming, a void that words couldn’t fill. But in the midst of that sadness, I found a renewed sense of purpose. I wanted to honor my friend’s legacy by supporting others in their own struggles. This loss also created an opening in my family a chance for more honest conversations about mental health. It was painful, but it was a step forward.
Now, I use my experiences to advocate for mental health awareness, especially in spaces where this topic is still met with hesitation. I’ve become a mental health ally at work, offering support to colleagues who are navigating their own challenges. Normalizing mental health discussions is a slow process, but one that I’m committed to, because I know it can make a difference.
My perspective on life has also changed. I used to shy away from celebrating birthdays or milestones, thinking of them as reminders of aging or time slipping away. But now, I embrace them. I see each one as a symbol of resilience, a reminder that I’ve survived, grown, and learned. A friend of mine once said something that stuck with me: aging is a privilege. It’s a testament to survival, and with that survival comes the opportunity for more love, wisdom, and growth.
My journey is far from over, but I move forward with hope. The message I want to share is simple. No matter how dark or uncertain life may feel, there’s always room for healing. Sharing my story is my way of encouraging others to break their own silences, to seek help without fear or shame. In a world that often shies away from these conversations, I want my voice to be a reminder that vulnerability is not a weakness it’s a strength. And it’s a strength worth celebrating.