Chapter 14: Where to Turn: Asking for Help

A Letter from Lin

Dear Jiwoo, I am a civil engineer. For the last two years I have worked for a firm that designs drainage for new roads, and I am the youngest engineer in our office. I was the best student in my class, and I am the first person in my family to go to university. When I got this job, my parents told everyone they knew. I want to be clear that I like my work. I like solving problems, and I like knowing that the roads we design will keep water away from people's homes.

Since the spring, though, something has gone wrong inside me. I sleep badly and wake in the middle of the night with my heart racing. I check my calculations three or four times and still feel sure I have made a mistake. Twice this month I have sat in my car in the car park for twenty minutes before I could make myself walk into the office. Last week I cried in the car on the way home and could not say why.

The strange thing is that I know help exists. When I started, we were given papers about a support programme for staff, and there is a doctor near my flat. But every time I think of asking anyone, I stop. I am afraid my manager will find out and think I cannot cope. I am afraid my parents will be disappointed. I am afraid that a doctor will tell me there is nothing wrong and I am just weak. I have always been the one who solves problems, not the one who has them.

Where should a person like me turn? And how do I make myself actually do it? Lin

Dear Lin

Thank you for writing to me. I know that writing this letter was itself a way of asking for help, and I can tell from your words that it was not easy. You have taken the first step already, even if it does not feel like one. Please hold on to that thought as you read the rest of my reply.

I also want to say clearly, at the very start, that what you describe deserves care and attention. Waking in the night with a racing heart, checking your work again and again, sitting frozen in the car park and crying without knowing why: these are signs that something is weighing on you heavily. I cannot tell you what is happening, and nobody should try to name it from a letter. But I can tell you that it is worth talking about with someone who is trained to help, and that you deserve that help as much as anyone.

This letter is for you, and it is also for every reader who has thought about asking for help and then stopped. Over the course of this book, many people have written to me about stress, worry, low mood, exhaustion and other heavy things. In almost every reply, I have ended up saying the same kind of sentence: if this goes beyond everyday self-care, talk to someone who can help. Your letter gives me a chance to explain what that sentence actually means, where those doors are, and what different sources say about each of them.

For this reply I have compared several kinds of sources: international organizations that work on health, public mental health guides, the public information that helplines share, workplace-safety agencies in general, psychology textbooks, general explanations of research about help-seeking, and some traditional sayings. They are written for different readers, and they do not always put things the same way. But they agree on more than you might expect.

Why Asking Feels So Hard

First, I want you to know that the fear you describe is very common. International organizations that work on health, and many public mental health guides, name the same problem again and again: stigma. Stigma means the negative ideas and attitudes that some people hold about mental health difficulties, and the shame that people may feel because of those ideas. These sources say that stigma is one of the main reasons people wait a long time before asking for help, and that it can be found in every kind of community and at every level of education.

Stigma can come from outside, in the form of careless comments, jokes or fears about how others will react. It can also live inside us, as a quiet voice that says we should be able to manage alone. Your letter shows both. You worry about what your manager and your parents will think. You also worry about what you think of yourself. The idea that you are the one who solves problems, not the one who has them, is a heavy rule to live by. No engineer, however good, solves every problem alone.

Think about your own work for a moment. When a drainage design is very complex, I imagine you do not hide it from your colleagues. You ask a senior engineer to check it, or you discuss it with a specialist. Nobody thinks you are weak for doing so; they think you are careful and professional. Asking for help with your own mind and body follows the same logic. It is not a sign that you cannot cope, but a sign that you take the problem seriously enough to bring in the right expertise.

There is also a small, practical kind of asking that may help you at work while you look for other support. You wrote that you check your calculations three or four times and still feel sure that you have made a mistake. In many engineering offices, it is normal for a second engineer to review important work before it goes further. You might ask a senior colleague whether you could agree on a regular check of your designs, not because you cannot do the work, but because shared checking is good practice. This kind of request is ordinary in your profession, and it may take a little weight off your shoulders. It does not replace talking to someone about how you feel, but it shows you that asking can be a normal, everyday act rather than a confession.

I heard about a young apprentice electrician who spent her first months afraid to ask the senior electrician anything, because she did not want to look slow. One afternoon she finally asked how a certain connection should be made. The older man put down his tools, showed her, and then said that the apprentices who worried him were not the ones who asked questions. They were the ones who never did. She told a friend later that this sentence changed the way she thought about asking, not only at work but everywhere.

Traditional sayings show both sides of this struggle. In many places, there are sayings that praise enduring hardship quietly and not complaining. There are also sayings, just as old, such as the well-known idea that a problem shared is a problem halved. I think both kinds of sayings come from real human experience. Endurance is a strength, and so is the ability to let others help. The difficulty is that people often hold the first saying firmly and forget the second.

A Map of Places to Turn

One reason people stop before asking is that they do not know where to go. So let me draw a simple map. Different sources describe the places to turn in slightly different ways, but most of them include the same main doors. You do not have to use all of them, and there is no single correct order. Many guides say that there is no wrong door: any of these can be a place to start, and the people behind each door can often point you to the others.

The first door is people you trust. That could be a friend, a brother or sister, a partner, a mentor from your studies, or a coworker you feel safe with. Public mental health guides almost always mention this door first. Alongside professional help when that is needed, talking to someone you trust often makes the next step much easier. A trusted person can listen, help you think, sit beside you while you make a phone call, or simply remind you that you are not alone.

The second door is a workplace support programme, like the one described in the papers you received. Many larger employers offer some kind of confidential support for staff, such as a service where people can talk to a counsellor for a few sessions or get advice about stress, family problems or money. These programmes differ from employer to employer, so it is worth reading the papers again or asking the human resources office how the service works. Workplace-safety agencies in general describe such services as useful, and they usually stress that they should be confidential. If you are worried about your manager finding out, you can ask before you begin exactly who will know that you have used the service.

The third door is a doctor. Public mental health guides often suggest a doctor as a good first professional contact, especially when a person has physical signs such as poor sleep or a racing heart, as you do. A doctor can look at the body and the mind together, check whether anything physical needs attention, and explain what kinds of further support exist. You worried that a doctor might tell you nothing is wrong. Doctors see many people with worries like yours, and most of them understand that how you feel is real and important, whatever its cause.

The fourth door is counsellors, psychologists and other qualified professionals who offer talking support. Psychology textbooks describe many kinds of talking support, and they explain that a trained professional can help a person understand what is happening and find ways to cope. If you look for such a professional, the guides suggest checking that they are properly trained and registered where you live. It is also normal to need a little time to find someone you feel comfortable with. If the first person does not feel right, it is fine to look for another.

The fifth door is helplines. The public information that helplines share explains that they are there for people in crisis, but also, in many places, for anyone who needs to talk something through. Many are confidential and some let you stay anonymous, which means you do not need to give your name. Some can be reached by phone, and some by written messages. For a person who finds it hard to speak face to face, a helpline can be a gentle first step. Helplines can also tell you about other services that may be available near you.

The sixth door is community groups. These include peer support groups, where people who have faced similar difficulties meet to share their experiences, as well as religious communities, cultural associations and groups for people in the same profession. Public mental health guides often describe peer support as valuable because it offers understanding from people who have been there. Alongside professional care when that is needed, such groups can offer something professionals sometimes cannot: the feeling of being among equals.

What the Sources Agree On, and Where They Differ

When I put these sources side by side, I find that they agree on several important points. They agree that it is better to ask for help early, rather than waiting until things become very hard. They agree that you do not need to be in crisis to deserve help. They agree that asking for help is a sign of strength and good sense, not of weakness. And they agree that what you share, and with whom, is mostly your own choice, except when someone's safety is at immediate risk.

They differ mainly in what they emphasize, and this usually reflects who wrote them and why. Helplines' public information tends to stress speed, availability and anonymity, because helplines are often the first contact for people who feel desperate or alone. Doctors' and medical guides tend to stress the value of checking physical health along with mental health, because the two are closely linked. Workplace sources tend to stress practical changes at work, such as adjusting workloads or deadlines. Community groups and traditional sources tend to stress belonging, shared experience and the support of people who know you.

The sources also differ on one question that I know matters to you: whether to tell your employer. Some workplace guides encourage people to speak openly with their manager, because a manager who knows about a difficulty can make helpful changes, such as a lighter workload for a while. Other guides are more cautious, and they point out that not every workplace responds well, and that a person has the right to keep health matters private. Most agree on a middle path: you can choose how much to share, you can talk about the effects on your work without giving every detail, and you can use confidential support first while you decide.

Think of a group of farmers who grow wheat in the same valley and meet once a month after the harvest season to talk about prices, weather and water. One year, after a very bad season, an older farmer stood up at the end of the meeting and said, quite simply, that he had been sleeping badly and feeling hopeless, and that he wondered whether anyone else felt the same. There was a long silence. Then three other farmers said that they did. After that, the group began to keep a few minutes at the end of each meeting for talking about how people were managing. No guide had told them to do this. They found their own door, and they opened it for each other.

A very different working day shows the same truth. In the canteen of a large shipyard, a welder once mentioned to his lunch table that he had joined a support group for people going through hard times. He said it while unwrapping his sandwich, as if it were nothing special. Afterwards, two coworkers quietly asked him how he had found the group. Sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is to speak about help in an ordinary voice, so that others feel it is ordinary too.

Taking the First Step

You asked how to make yourself actually do it. I think the answer is to make the first step as small and as clear as possible. You do not need to solve everything at once. You only need to open one door. Many guides suggest choosing the door that feels least frightening, whether that is a trusted person, a helpline, the workplace programme or the doctor near your flat.

It may help to write down what you want to say before you speak to anyone. You might write a few short lines: when the difficulties began, what you notice, such as waking in the night with a racing heart, checking your work again and again and feeling unable to go into the office, and how these things affect your daily life. Many people find that a written note helps them speak when they feel nervous. You can even hand the note to the doctor or counsellor if speaking feels too hard. Doctors and counsellors are used to this.

If you want to begin with a trusted person, you might say something like this: "I've been having a hard time lately and I'd like to talk to you about it. I'm not sure what I need yet, but I don't want to keep it to myself." With a doctor, you might begin: "I've been sleeping badly and feeling very anxious at work for a few months, and I'd like some help understanding what's going on." These sentences are not magic. They simply give you a door handle to hold.

Many people also find it helpful to bring someone with them, or to make the call while a friend sits nearby. And if the first door you open does not help as much as you hoped, please do not decide that help is not for you. Try another door. Finding the right support sometimes takes more than one attempt. That is not failure. It is part of the process, much as a design often needs more than one draft.

Your parents are proud of you, and I imagine that will not change. Many parents, when they learn that their grown child is struggling, feel above all a wish to help. You do not have to tell them now if you are not ready. But you might find, one day, that sharing this part of your life brings you closer, not further apart.

Finally, I want to give a note to you and to every reader, because it is the most important thing in this letter. Anyone who feels like hurting themselves should contact a helpline or a medical facility right away. If you are in immediate danger, call the local emergency number. You do not need to be sure that your situation is serious enough. If you are worried about your safety, that is reason enough to reach out.

With warm wishes, and with great respect for the courage it took to write, Jiwoo

A Question to Think About

Every reader has a different map of help, and only you can draw yours. If you needed help with your mind or your heart this week, which door would feel easiest for you to open first, and what small step would bring you to it?

You might take a moment to draw your own map. Who are the people you trust? Does your workplace, school or community offer any kind of support, and do you know how to find out? Where is the nearest doctor or medical facility, and do you know how to find a helpline where you live?

You might also notice what has stopped you from asking for help in the past. Was it fear, pride, not knowing where to go, or a belief that you should manage alone? If a friend told you they felt the same way, what would you say to them?