While I was in the safe house, mental health was not something I fully understood. I knew I was struggling, but I did not have the words to explain what was happening to me. I experienced anxiety and panic attacks, especially when giving statements to CSOs or government institutions. Sometimes, in the middle of a session, I would break down and cry uncontrollably in front of others, forcing the session to be put on hold.
It happened more than once.
At the time, I did not understand my mind or my body. I only knew that something inside me was becoming overwhelmed.
My fellow roommates, many of whom had already gone through similar processes, understood in ways I could not explain. They gave me time to sleep, checked on me, called me when food was ready, took over some of my duties, or simply invited me for a walk.
There was something powerful about being around people who did not need me to explain everything.
After returning home, I began seeking out spaces where my healing could slowly begin. I joined mental health programmes and started learning about what I had been experiencing.
I remember the first time I met a group of survivors. I listened to their stories and cried throughout the meeting. When it was time for me to speak, I realised I had no words.
Looking back, I think my silence was also a form of communication. I had carried certain experiences for so long that I had not yet learned how to put them into words.
Since then, I have continued to show up for my healing.
I am now on my seventh therapist, and I say that without shame. Somewhere along the way, I realised that finding the right support can take time. Therapy is not necessarily about finding someone who will tell you how to heal. Sometimes, it is about finding a space where you can safely confront what you have been carrying.
Group therapy has been an incredible part of my healing journey. There is something powerful about walking alongside others who understand parts of your experience, sometimes without needing you to explain every detail.
But sometimes, you also need a one-on-one space.
A space where you can sit with your own thoughts, your own questions, and even your own judgement.
Self-stigma can hold us back from healing. It can make us question whether we deserve help, whether our pain is valid, or whether we should simply be strong enough to move on.
For me, embracing therapy has also meant embracing conversations about mental health. It has meant learning and unlearning, challenging what I once believed, and making room for new understanding.
That has not always been easy.
The triggers are still there.
I have learned that healing does not necessarily mean never being triggered again. Sometimes, it means recognising what triggers you, understanding your responses, and finding healthier ways to navigate those moments.
The mind is complex. It holds memories, processes experiences, and responds to what we have lived through in different ways. Sometimes, painful memories may be difficult to access or recall; at other times, they remain vivid and return when we least expect them.
I am learning not to fight my mind for remembering. I am learning to listen.
Every experience, whether painful or beautiful, has become part of my story. I am learning to meet those experiences with openness and compassion, even on days when my mind resists.
Healing, for me, has not been about forgetting. It has been about understanding. It has been about giving myself permission to learn, unlearn, pause, speak, cry, laugh, ask for help, and begin again.
Mental health is not something we should only talk about when someone reaches a breaking point. We need spaces where people can speak before they reach that point, where survivors are believed, where vulnerability is not mistaken for weakness, and where asking for help is recognised as an act of courage.
If you are reading this and recognise a little of yourself in my story, please know that you do not have to walk through everything alone. When you feel ready, reach out to someone you trust, find a safe space to talk, or consider seeking professional support. There is no shame in taking your time, asking for help, or exploring different forms of support until you find what works for you.
And if someone in your life is struggling, remember that support does not always begin with having the right answers. Sometimes, it begins with something as simple as:
“I am here. You don't have to explain everything right now.”
Healing can be quiet. It can take time. It can look different from one person to another.
Be gentle with yourself.
I continue to learn. I continue to heal. And I continue to believe that healing happens in the community.
