This article discusses personal experiences with mental health struggles, chronic pain, and distressing thoughts. If you feel affected by this content, please consider reaching out to a support service. (See bottom of article.)
There was a time when panic lived in the basement of my body. Slow at first, then rising, spreading, until it consumed me. The panic of knowing the pain wasn’t going to stop, that I couldn’t escape it, and that I would have to endure it.
October is Mental Health Awareness Month, and even now, the stigma around struggle remains. But adversity is something none of us can escape. We all face it, in wildly different ways, with varying circumstances and degrees of privilege. The challenge is universal, even if the form it takes is not.
For me, mental health struggles have grown quietly alongside a chronic health condition and the pain it brings. During endless nights of inescapable pain, my thoughts became desperate, thinking up ways of stopping the pain. I’d tap my head repeatedly, twisting my hair around a pencil curling it tighter and tighter, small things to numb the larger, unbearable pressure in my head. I thought about the hard edges around the house, the hard, angular edge of my bathroom doorframe, the sturdy anchor of my bed frame, and, frankly, the open real estate of my bedroom wall. The world didn’t exist in these moments. “Normal” tasks like cooking, paying a bill, working, buying groceries, seemed unknowable to me.
It took a long time to learn how to safeguard myself in those moments. To gain perspective. To stop ignoring the way chronic pain was affecting my mental health. To start admitting, out loud, that I wasn’t okay, and to seek the help and tools that could support me through it.
Chronic pain touches every part of life- emotional, social, mental, even economic. It isolates, it confines, and it steals time from you. But if you look closely, it also teaches. You learn what truly matters, what you can and can’t control, and what no one can ever take from you: the choice of how you respond to what happens to you.
Good mental health isn’t a destination. It’s the quiet work of existing. Like a garden, it needs daily tending- small, consistent care that isn’t linear and doesn’t always look neat.
We often wait until the pain has chipped away at us before we reach out- we wait until things have already become unbearable. But mental health shouldn’t be something we only tend to in crisis. It deserves our care every day, in small, consistent ways. Strength isn’t found in holding it all together- it’s found in admitting when you can’t. Vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s courage in motion.
Maybe your struggle looks different to mine. Maybe it’s grief, anxiety, depression, burnout, or simply the tax of just existing. Whatever it looks like, you’re not alone in it. We all carry it. And when we’re willing to speak honestly, and when we ask for help, or check in with someone, and really listen, we can remind each other that we’re all in this together.
Mental health isn’t about perfection or constant positivity, and it’s not about hashtag self care. It’s the quiet, everyday work of being alive. My hope is that we keep finding empathy and compassion for one another, and that we keep having the conversations that help people feel safe enough to seek the support they need.
If you need support:
You are not alone. If you are struggling with thoughts of self-harm, distress, or mental health challenges, support is available.
NSW Mental Health Access Line: 1800 011 511
Lifeline (24/7 crisis support): 13 11 14
Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636
Kids Helpline (for children and teens): 1800 55 1800
For local support in the Sapphire Coast region, consider reaching out to your GP, Bega Mental Health Hub, GHP. or Safe Haven.