Knowing When and How to Help Yourself—And the Power of Asking for Help
Life brings each of us unique challenges, and no two experiences are ever exactly the same. Even when situations seem similar, the emotional weight and personal impact vary. My hope in sharing this story is not just to offer a relatable moment but to provide insight into why seeking professional help can be such a transformative step—and how learning to help yourself can be just as powerful.
For a long time, I carried the belief that asking for help was a weakness. I was influenced by people I trusted—family, friends, mentors—who told me I should be strong enough to handle everything on my own. The idea that vulnerability equaled weakness became deeply rooted in me. But over time, I came to realize something crucial: seeking help isn’t the problem. The real problem is doing nothing with the help you’re given. If you want to grow, you have to be willing to act on the support you receive—not just cry out, but also commit to change.
That mindset shift is what led me to therapy.
When Moving Forward Doesn’t Feel Like Progress
I remember coming home every day after work, stuck in a loop of sadness and confusion following my divorce. I kept pushing forward, hoping that if I stayed busy enough, the pain would eventually fade. But as the weeks turned into months, nothing really changed. I was still depressed, still lost, and still disconnected.
Eventually, I gave myself a personal challenge: If you still feel this way in 30 days, it’s time to seek professional help.
That moment of honesty led me to a profound question: If my emotions are mine to control, why do I feel so out of control? I knew what feeling good was like—but I couldn’t reach it anymore, no matter what I tried.
Becoming Your Own Observer
I started paying close attention to my thoughts, trying to trace the roots of my unhappiness. What I found was unsettling: chaos. My mind was filled with unprocessed pain, scattered memories, and constant emotional noise. I’ve always tried to stay emotionally balanced and mentally organized, but now it felt like I was drowning in confusion.
That’s when I knew I needed to be more vulnerable. I had to become more open—not just to myself, but to others who might help me untangle this mental mess. I also had to find a way to stay focused long enough to make sense of what I was going through. So I began small.
I looked for things that made me feel good, even for a little while. It started with simple things—watching a show that held my attention, going outside for walks, reconnecting with people I enjoyed being around. Slowly, I started creating moments of clarity.
As I collected these small wins, I began to track what made me feel better and what made me feel worse. That awareness helped me articulate my needs and communicate more clearly. It was no longer just about feeling bad—I could finally explain why.
Connection Through Vulnerability
One day at the gym, I asked a guy I occasionally chatted with to be my workout partner. He agreed, and as we spent time together, I gradually opened up about what I was going through. To my surprise, he shared that he was going through something similar—and that he was seeing a therapist.
He even offered to connect me with her.
I didn’t reach out right away. Therapy costs money, and I didn’t want to waste my time or investment unless I was truly ready. I pushed myself to improve on my own first, but after 30 days of effort with minimal progress, I reached out.
That decision changed my life.
Therapy: A Toolkit for the Mind
From my first few sessions, I left therapy with what I began to call tools—strategies, perspectives, and realizations that helped me rebuild my mind. My thoughts started to organize themselves. My emotional reactions made more sense. The fog slowly began to lift.
Therapy taught me how to think clearly again. I became more empowered and self-aware. I started to see my own patterns—what I needed to change, what I needed to accept, and how I could strengthen my emotional discipline. Every session helped me understand myself more deeply and gave me the courage to continue evolving.
But it wasn’t all easy.
With every new insight came another layer to unpack. Growth meant facing uncomfortable truths about myself, and learning to show compassion to those parts rather than judge or suppress them. It required presence, discipline, and patience.
Going Deeper
As I grew more comfortable, I began asking deeper, more personal questions—even those that didn’t align with traditional therapy norms. I asked about energy, spiritual protection, things that felt important to me even if they weren’t “clinical.” My therapist didn’t dismiss these ideas. She worked with them. And through this, I was able to strengthen not just my emotional self, but my spiritual self too.
It’s important to note that not every therapist will be the right fit for you. If you’re spiritual or religious, find someone who aligns with that part of you. If you value independence, look for someone who respects that strength and works with it. Therapy is most effective when the relationship feels authentic and aligned.
Facing the Truth and Moving Forward
I had to face the painful truth that my divorce had deeply impacted me. Admitting that was difficult. But in doing so, I gave myself the opportunity to heal.
Eventually, my therapist told me that she wasn’t sure why I was still coming to sessions. At first, I was taken aback. But then I realized what she was really saying: You’re ready.
My sessions became less frequent. I reached out only when I truly needed her insight. I had built up my confidence, my tools, and my ability to navigate challenges on my own.
Final Thoughts
What I’ve learned is this: Knowing when to ask for help is just as important as knowing how to help yourself. You are responsible for how you feel and how you want to feel. That ownership is key to emotional and mental well-being.
Being vulnerable was one of the most empowering things I’ve ever done. It opened the door to healing, growth, and a better relationship with myself. I’m sure there are more lessons ahead, but I now face them with more clarity and confidence—because I’ve seen the power of both asking for help and choosing to grow.
