Mental Health

Sometimes in life, you just need help.

That’s it.

You don’t need somebody to fix your entire life. You don’t need somebody to tell you what to do. Sometimes you just need another human being to sit there, listen to you, and help you sort through the noise.

Sometimes it’s physical help.

Sometimes it’s mental help.

Sometimes you just need somebody to talk to.

I’ve been seeing a therapist for more than ten years, and I can tell you: it’s helped me tremendously.

And I’m not embarrassed about that.

In fact, I think it’s one of the smartest things I’ve ever done for myself.

Because here’s what I’ve learned.

Life gets complicated.

Families get complicated. Relationships get complicated. Work gets complicated. Money gets complicated. Getting older gets complicated.

Hell, sometimes just being a human being is complicated.

And we’re somehow expected to figure all of this stuff out by ourselves.

Why?

If my knee hurts, I go see somebody.

If my teeth hurt, I go see somebody.

If my car starts making a noise, I take it to somebody who understands cars.

But when something starts making noise inside our heads, suddenly we’re supposed to tough it out.

I think that’s crazy.

Mental healthcare should simply be healthcare.

And it shouldn’t be something you get only after everything has fallen apart.

That’s the part of the American healthcare system I’d like us to rethink.

We spend an enormous amount of energy treating people after they’re sick.

What if we put just as much energy into keeping people healthy?

Imagine if everybody had access to a primary-care doctor and basic mental healthcare.

Not someday.

Not after six months on a waiting list.

Not after you’ve figured out whether the therapist takes your insurance.

Not after you’ve reached a crisis.

When you need help, you get help.

Maybe it’s in person.

Maybe it’s telehealth.

Maybe it’s a counselor at a community clinic.

Maybe it’s somebody available through your family doctor’s office.

And sometimes it might simply be a trained person who can sit across from you and listen.

Because not everybody needs a psychiatrist.

Not everybody needs medication.

Not everybody needs a hospital.

Sometimes people are lonely.

Sometimes they’re grieving.

Sometimes their marriage is falling apart.

Sometimes they’re scared about money.

Sometimes they’re overwhelmed raising their kids.

Sometimes they’re 25 years old and have absolutely no idea what they’re supposed to do with their life.

And sometimes they’re 69 and still trying to figure the damn thing out.

That’s being human.

So why don’t we build a healthcare system around human beings?

Think about what could happen if getting mental healthcare became as normal as getting your teeth cleaned.

You wouldn’t whisper:

“I’m seeing a therapist.”

You’d just say:

“I’ve got therapy Thursday at three.”

Nobody cares.

That’s where we need to get.

And there is another side to this.

We need more people providing care.

More counselors.

More social workers.

More psychologists.

More psychiatric professionals.

More community health workers.

And we need to use technology intelligently so somebody living miles away from the nearest therapist can still open a phone or computer and talk to a qualified professional.

But underneath all of that is something even simpler.

Connection.

I think we’re starving for it.

We’re surrounded by screens. We’ve got thousands of followers, hundreds of Facebook friends, endless text messages—and millions of people still feel completely alone.

Technology connected the world.

But somehow a lot of us became disconnected from each other.

So maybe the future of mental healthcare isn’t just hospitals and doctors and insurance companies.

Maybe it’s also rebuilding community.

Talking to our neighbors.

Checking on somebody who’s struggling.

Creating places where people can belong.

And making it perfectly normal to say four words:

“I need some help.”

Because those four words aren’t weakness.

They’re actually incredibly human.

I’ve needed help in my life.

I’ve asked for it.

I’ve received it.

And I’m a better person because of it.

I want that opportunity for everybody.

Rich or poor.

Young or old.

Black, white, brown.

Republican, Democrat, independent—or somebody who’s completely sick of politics.

It doesn’t matter.

Pain doesn’t check your voter registration.

Loneliness doesn’t check your bank account.

Depression doesn’t care what neighborhood you live in.

We’re human beings first.

And sometimes human beings need other human beings.

So if we’re serious about building a healthier country, maybe we start with a very simple promise:

When somebody reaches out their hand and says, “I need help,” somebody should be there to take it.

That’s healthcare.

That’s mental healthcare.

And maybe, more than anything else, that’s community.