It’s all in the mind

 In Malaysia, talking openly about mental health can be a lonely endeavour, but the benefits far outweigh the costs.

We say that we should talk more about mental health, but when you actually start on it, the room goes quiet, the topic changes. Then someone gently nudges you and suggests that you “think positive”.

The truth is that by talking openly about mental health, you are travelling down a lonely road.

A line from Sade’s hit song “The Sweetest Taboo” captures it succinctly — “if I tell you … if I tell you now …” — a pause before saying something that might change how people perceive you.

During a chat with a friend recently, when I spoke openly about therapy through my psychology-informed lens, a sense of discomfort rose and hung in the air.

While I felt that the discussion was helpful, for him it was unnecessary and unhelpful.

While the friendship did not explode dramatically, we have drifted apart, as two persons who have come to realise that they are speaking different languages emotionally.

My friend is someone who grew up at a time when resilience meant silence, and emotional struggles were handled privately.

I once mentioned cognitive behavioural therapy and was met with genuine alarm — “what’s that? Are they going to stick needles in you?”

The concern was sincere, but the moment was illuminating — how unfamiliar therapy still feels to many people. How easily the unknown leads to fear and old stereotypes.

What felt like a small misunderstanding suddenly looked bigger — not a disagreement but a gap in a shared language.

Many Malaysians grew up with the same handbook for handling emotional challenges; don’t think too much, be grateful, be strong, mind-over-matter and the most powerful of all — what will the neighbours say?

In this context, silence can feel safer than honestly confronting the issue.

Part of this discomfort comes from confusion. Mental health and mental illness are not the same.

Mental health shifts throughout our lives just like physical health and seeking therapy is not always about a crisis; often it is about reflection and growth.

But without welcoming conversations around these topics, this distinction never becomes common knowledge.

I see a clear communication gap between generations.

Younger Malaysians seem to have an emotionally equipped dictionary while older generations built their emotional toolkit around endurance, duty and perseverance.

Neither approach is right or wrong. They are simply shaped by different realities.

But what happens when these two worlds meet? We find ourselves in an awkward position.

We are no longer completely silent about mental health. But we are not fully comfortable talking about it either.

We are encouraged to speak a new emotional language while still living in environments that have been built for silence.

How we react to these conversations matters. When people feel safe to speak, they seek help earlier and don’t suffer in silence so much.

Families become healthier and workplaces become safer. Companies quietly save the hidden costs of burnout, disengagement and preventable crises.

Cultural change does not happen at once, and it is not confined to any one generation. It begins when one stays open to learning new ways, to listen and understand one another — making it easier for people around us to ask for the support they need.

It makes me wonder how many Malaysians are quietly having these conversations in private because they cannot yet have them in public?

“If I tell you … if I tell you now” — perhaps the real shift begins here.

We accept that speaking openly about mental health may feel awkward, uncomfortable and even lonely at times.

But we keep talking anyway. Because silence has had the stage long enough. - FMT

 The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.