07/02/2025
I sat through a session that hit me hard. It wasn’t just about mental health; it was about who is there when a person’s mind is at war with itself.
A speaker shared the story of an 8-year-old boy with anxiety so crippling that he stopped speaking. His teachers called him “difficult.” His classmates called him “weird.” But what truly shattered him was when his own mother, overwhelmed and uninformed, called him “lazy.”
An elderly woman with dementia wandered away from home one evening. She was found the next morning, confused and frightened, sitting alone on a park bench. When her family was called, they sighed and said, “She does this all the time. We don’t know what to do with her anymore.”
A young man with a disability, battling depression, finally opened up to his family about his pain. The response? “You have food, shelter, and a place to sleep. What do you have to be depressed about?”
And just like that, they each faded into silence.
This session forced me to ask—who holds them when they break?
đź’” Who teaches parents that their child's anxiety is not misbehavior, but a plea for understanding?
đź’” Who reminds families that the elderly are not disposable, but a treasure of stories and wisdom?
💔 Who tells a person with disabilities that their pain is real, and that they don’t have to fight it alone?
Family is supposed to be the first place we turn to, not the first place that turns us away.
This is why I do what I do. In Ghana, far too many people; children, the elderly, and those with disabilities suffer in silence because mental health is still misunderstood, ignored, and stigmatized. Through , I am working to change that by strengthening family and community support systems, because professional care alone is not enough. Love, understanding, and patience must start at home.
If you have ever felt unseen in your struggles, or if you know someone who has, drop a ❤️ in the comments. Let’s break the silence together.