More than what's on record

If you looked at my life on paper, you probably wouldn't notice anything unusual. I was a normal student, spending time with friends, doing the things I enjoyed, and getting on with life. From the outside, I seemed happy, and for a long time, I genuinely was. What people couldn't see, however, was how quickly things would change or the weight I would eventually find myself carrying.

Change

A few years ago, if someone had told me that I would one day be writing about my experiences with mental health, I would not have believed them. Mental health was never something I thought would become part of my own story. My attention was on my friends, my goals, and enjoying the stage of life I was in. 

That changed during a period when several difficult events happened in a relatively short amount of time. One experience at a party left me feeling shaken and struggling to make sense of it, while a difficult event involving one of my close friends added another layer of grief that I was not prepared for. Looking back, I do not think I fully understood the effect those experiences would have on me. At the time, I just tried to keep moving forward.

Carrying it alone

I never really gave myself the opportunity to process what I was feeling. Instead, I kept everything to myself.

I did not tell my parents what had happened, and I rarely spoke to anyone about how I was feeling. I thought staying silent was the easier option. I told myself that if I could keep showing up every day, then eventually things would improve on their own.

At school, I often found myself in the wellbeing space. It became somewhere I could go when everything felt overwhelming. 

On the surface, I probably looked fine. I was still attending school and trying to get through everyday life. Internally, however, I felt exhausted. The weight of everything I was carrying seemed to grow heavier each day, and because nobody knew what I was going through, I often felt alone.

Reaching out 

For months, I convinced myself that staying silent was easier than opening up. Eventually, my teacher connected me with a psychologist and, for the first time, I spoke honestly about what I had been carrying. Not long after, I told my mum as well. Opening up did not change what had happened, but it changed how I faced it. The burden no longer felt mine to carry alone, and for the first time in a long time, I felt supported.

Looking back

When I think about that period of my life, one lesson stands out above everything else: people are often carrying far more than others can see.

On record, I was still a student like any other. I was attending classes, sitting assessments, and trying to navigate everyday life. What those records could never show was the struggle beneath the surface.

Opening up was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it was also one of the most important. It taught me that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, and that there is strength in allowing others to support you when you need it most.

Today, I still carry those experiences with me, but I no longer carry them alone. If there is one thing I hope people take away from my story, it is that there is always more to a person than what is on record. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is speak up, because the moment we let someone in may be the moment the weight finally starts to lift.

Written by Bryan