The Weight I Couldn’t Name
“You’re just overthinking it, we didn’t need therapy when we were your age.”
Since I was twelve years old, I carried this heavy sadness I could never explain, it followed me everywhere. I had no motivation to do anything, I isolated myself, and honestly, I just felt so alone all the time. I would ask my parents again and again to let me see a therapist. But each time, they’d dismiss it with that same line.
In my South Asian household, mental health just wasn’t something we talked about. Therapy was seen as unnecessary, or worse, shameful.
When Things Fell Apart
As I got older, life only got harder. My older sister left for college, and the last bit of support I had was gone. The friends I thought I could count on weren’t there for me when it mattered. I didn’t feel like I could talk to my parents, they wouldn’t understand. So I kept to myself. I stayed quiet. I held everything in because I felt like I didn’t have a choice.
The Conversation That Changed Everything
By sophomore year, I was completely drained, mentally and emotionally. I sat my mom down and expressed how bad things had gotten, how I needed help. I told her about the constant heaviness, how I felt like I was losing myself, and how alone I truly felt. For the first time, she didn’t brush it off. She looked at me, quietly, and nodded. “Okay. We’ll find someone,” she said.
But weeks passed. Nothing happened. I realized if I didn’t keep pushing, I’d never get the help I needed. So I took control. I researched therapists, made lists, sent phone numbers, and reminded her every few days. Finally, after what felt like endless nudging, she made the call.
That call changed everything.
Where Things Start to Shift
Now, I have a therapist. And honestly, it’s the first time I’ve felt like I’m actually healing. I now have tools and support. I have a space where I don’t have to filter myself.
My parents still don’t fully believe in therapy, but they are supportive in their own way. That gap between what I feel and what they understand? It’s still there, but I’ve learned that healing doesn’t always require full understanding, it just needs a little willingness.
Why This Matters
Mental health in the South Asian community is often ignored or invalidated. For many of our parents, therapy was never even an option. They were raised in environments where mental illness was seen as weakness, not something to treat. That stigma hasn’t disappeared, but our generation is starting to push back.
A report by the National Alliance on Mental illness (NAMI) found that over 50% of Asian Americans with mental illness don’t seek help due to stigma and cultural pressure.
We have to talk about this and finally break the cycle.
If You’re Still Waiting for Help…
If you are someone who feels misunderstood, or if you’re still waiting for help, don’t give up. Even if therapy isn’t an option yet, talk to someone. Keeping everything bottled up will eat you alive. Keep trying, it’s worth it in the end.
About the Author:
Deiksha Veerapaneni is a South Asian American high school student at Foothill High School and currently serves as an intern in RCOZ’s High School Changemaker Program.
