Little Miss “I love my life” Talks Mental Health
*Disclaimer; the below outlines my personal experience with mental health and should not be a substitute for advice from a medical professional. Please consult with a medical professional if you present with any symptoms or need more information on the affects of medications or mental health concerns <3
Hello Team,
I hope this blog post finds you well—and if you’re on a busy train like me, I hope you’re sitting next to someone who isn’t looking over your shoulder (like the stranger next to me who’s definitely reading this as I type – hence why I started it off like an email to throw him off my scent).
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, life has felt a little overwhelming lately. A new job, new people, bigger responsibilities, difficult conversations, restless nights, and a mind that won’t stop racing. It’s all manageable—until suddenly, it isn’t.
That said, even in the chaos, I remain grateful. Every time I share something on here or reflect on my life, I’m reminded that, truly, I am so lucky. I have a roof over my head, food on the table, and people who love and accept me as I am.
Now you might be thinking, “Isn’t this post about going back on antidepressants? How can life be that great?” The answer is: it can be both. This blog is, in fact, about mental health and SSRIs—we know them, we question them, and many of us have been or are on them. But yes, my life is still good.
So, why did I choose to talk to my GP about my mental health?
Because even though things are good, they’ve also been incredibly stressful. I’ve had a lot on my plate—more than I realised. I was managing, but “managing” also meant confronting myself, recognising unhelpful patterns, and being honest about what was going on beneath the surface.
I noticed old habits creeping back in. The ones I’ve spent months working to change. And what I’ve come to understand is that it’s not always about “fixing” ourselves—sometimes we fall into patterns because they feel safe, even if they quietly pull us away from who we want to be. Oversleeping, mindless scrolling, negative self-talk, loss of motivation, withdrawing from others… it’s those little things that slowly steal time and joy from our lives.
I also found myself physically run down. Maybe it was the weather, maybe I picked something up commuting to work—or maybe my body was just telling me to slow down. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised that anxiety and depression don’t always look the way they did when I was a teenager. The priorities change, but the feelings are still very real—and very normal.
What surprised me the most was how comfortable felt walking into my GP’s office. No shame, no sugar-coating. I simply said, “Here’s what’s going on—what are my options?”
And he gave me three:
Counselling
Medication
Quit my job
Options one and three were quickly ruled out (for now! Because I would like to earn an income and I don’t have time for counselling because of said job), which left medication.
I’ll be honest—I was a little embarrassed. I found myself searching online for all the worst-case scenarios. But when I stepped back, I realised the side effects of medication were far less frightening than continuing to struggle on my own, and I can always evaluate down the line with another consult!
After picking up the prescription, I sat in my car with a weird sense of guilt. “But I’m happy… life is good… do I really need this?” That doubt crept in, and I recognised it immediately. Because every other time I’d been prescribed medication, it felt like a punishment—a sign that I’d failed to manage my mental health on my own. I don’t believe that now, but my younger self did. I felt embarrassed and ashamed because I thought I wasn’t “normal.”
It took me a long time to accept that needing help doesn’t mean you’re broken. My stress isn’t just about work—it’s about everything. Being a woman today is scary. Being young in an uncertain world is scary. The future feels fragile and overwhelming sometimes. So yes, I’m anxious. And honestly, if you’re not feeling some of that too, I admire you.
I will always advocate for mental health support. Speaking up and checking in—on yourself and others—can make all the difference. One conversation can truly save a life.
My parents have always reminded me: “You wouldn’t be embarrassed to say you took Panadol for a headache, so why feel ashamed about taking something for your mental health?”
So, if you’re still reading (thank you!), here are a few things I want to leave you with:
You don’t need to be at rock bottom to reach out for help.
Your life can be great—and you can still need support.
You can be coping, and still need a little extra help.
Depression and anxiety are common, and never something to be ashamed of.
Taking care of your mental health is nothing to feel guilty or embarrassed about.
Your feelings are valid—even if no one else understands them.
Speak to someone you trust—friends, family, a partner, your doctor, or a helpline.
Check in with the people around you—asking the right questions can genuinely save lives.
If you’re a private person, that’s okay. You don’t have to share everything—but make sure you know support is available.
It’s okay not to be okay.
I’m sure I could go on forever, but I’ll leave it there (for now).
I see you, I hear you, I understand you—and I care about you.
Take care of yourselves, and have a great weekend friends.
With love,
Liz
Support Services:
Lifeline – 13 11 14
Kids Helpline – 1800 551 800 (for ages 5–25)
Suicide Call Back Service – 1300 659 467
MensLine Australia – 1300 78 99 78
13YARN – 13 92 76 (support for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples)
