How My Journey Shapes the Way I Care

Mental health professionals are not immune to mental health problems. In fact, many of us come into this work because we’ve had to make sense of our own pain first.

A little bit about me: I struggled with my mental health long before I had the words for it. I remember sobbing day in and day out, overwhelmed by emotions I couldn’t name and thoughts that wouldn’t slow down. I’ve always been a curious person, never shy to ask “why?”,but at that age I didn’t know who to ask. Everyone around me seemed
equally confused and busy surviving their own lives. So I did what I could – I chose psychology as my major, hoping it would give me some answers.

Even after lots of studying, reading, and writing papers on fascinating topics, I still didn’t know how to cope with my own
feelings. One day, after a long build‑up I didn’t fully understand, I had my first panic attack. It was terrifying. My heart was racing, my chest felt tight, my body felt like it wasn’t mine. When I finally reached out to a well‑known counsellor, I was told, “It must be the weather change.”

I didn’t know everything about panic at that point, but I knew this wasn’t just about the weather. I needed someone to help me understand what was happening and how to manage it, not to brush it off. That experience stayed with me. It showed me, very clearly, what not to do as a professional.

It also shaped how I practise today. It reminded me that when someone comes to you in a vulnerable moment, they are offering a huge amount of trust. The least we can do is really listen. No assumptions. No quick dismissals. No jumping to neat explanations that make us feel comfortable but leave the other person alone with their fear. In a country where stigma around mental health is already so strong, the carelessness or incompetence of professionals can deepen that wound. I never want to be part of that.

Thankfully, that first experience was not the end of my story. I later met another counsellor who offered me something I had never really had before: a genuinely safe space. A place where my thoughts could come out in all their messiness and not be judged. Slowly, session by session, I began to untangle what was going on in my mind and body. Together, we started building a small “toolbox” of strategies I could turn to when things felt overwhelming.

That toolbox has become one of the most valuable things in my life. Whenever I feel a “dent” now - a spike of anxiety, a rush of old fear, a familiar wave of panic - my mind might wander for a bit, but I no longer feel helpless. I know there are concrete things I can reach for to anchor myself.

Do I still get panic attacks? Yes, sometimes I do. Being a mental health professional doesn’t erase my humanity. But I am no longer clueless about what to do when they arrive. That’s the difference. And to me, that’s also the beauty of this profession: we get to share those tools with others in a way that is safe, boundaried, and ethical. We are not gods. We are not above struggle. We are humans who happen to have training, lived experience, and a deep commitment to walk alongside others in their distress.

Here are a few tools from my own toolbox that you might find helpful:

1. 4–6–8 breathing

When anxiety rises and your thoughts start racing, your body often joins in. Your heart rate increases, your muscles tense up, and your breathing becomes shallow. A simple way to send your nervous system a signal of safety is to slow down your breath on purpose.

Try this:

Breathe in through your nose for a count of 4.
Gently hold your breath for a count of 6.
Exhale slowly through your mouth for a count of 8.
Repeat this cycle several times. You don’t have to get the numbers “perfect” – the main idea is that your exhale is longer than your inhale, which helps your body shift out of panic mode and into a more regulated state.

2. Five senses grounding

When your mind is stuck in “what if” or replaying the past, it can help to return to your senses – to what is real and concrete around you right now. This exercise brings you back into the present moment through sight, touch, sound, smell, and taste.

You can try:

Name 5 things you can see.
Name 4 things you can feel (your clothes on your skin, the chair under you, the floor under your feet).
Name 3 things you can hear.
Name 2 things you can smell.
Name 1 thing you can taste (or simply notice the taste in your mouth).

You don’t have to do it perfectly or out loud. The goal is simply to step out of your thoughts for a minute and reconnect with your body and surroundings.

3. “Name the story”

When we’re overwhelmed, certain familiar thoughts often show up: “I’m not good enough”, “I’m too much”, “Something terrible will happen.” One gentle technique is to “name the story” instead of diving into it. For example: “Ah, this is my ‘I’m not good enough’ story again.” “This is my ‘everyone will leave me’ story.” By calling it a “story”, you remind yourself that this is a pattern your mind repeats, not an unquestionable truth. It creates a little distance and makes it easier to choose how to respond next.

4. One kind sentence to yourself

In difficult moments, many of us speak to ourselves in ways we would never speak to a friend. A small but powerful practice is to pause and offer yourself one kind, honest sentence. It might be: “This is really hard, and it makes sense that I feel this way.” “I’m doing the best I can with what I have right now.” “I deserve support too.” You don’t have to suddenly “love yourself” or feel positive. The aim is simply to soften the harsh inner voice, even a little.

These tools are not magic fixes, and they does NOT replace personalised therapy. But they are small, practical steps you can carry with you, just as I carry mine. If you recognise parts of your own story in this, I want you to know two things: first, you are not alone; and second, struggling with your mental health does not disqualify you from seeking help, offering help, or growing. Mental health professionals have their own storms to weather. What matters is not perfection, but honesty, reflection, and a willingness to keep learning from books, from training, from clients, and from our own hearts.

- Sharvari Baitule

MSc Clinical Psychology, BSc Psychology, BPS accredited and IOATH certified