“Who the hell, who the hell likes livin’ just to die?”

Noah Khan’s lyric has been ringing in my ears for what feels like the twentieth time today. Maybe it’s because May is Mental Health Month, and “it gets better” signage has been splattered around my hometown. Or maybe because this feeling of dread has become all too familiar. But it’s stuck in a loop. 

All around me, I’m faced with the incredibly daunting fact that things are different. I am different. Life is different.

Challenge after challenge, I’ve made it out on the other side–at least that’s what I tell myself. Throughout college, academic pressure distracted me from the weight of my depression. Then my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Medical bills piled up. When she lost vision in her right eye, I became one of her primary caregivers while working full-time. Heart failure, years of doctor’s appointments, and a string of bad news.

I got through it all.

And yet now, sitting here as her health improves, my anxiety and depression are somehow at their worst.

Maybe it’s because I no longer have the distraction of pouring every ounce of myself into helping someone else survive. Or maybe it’s because the world around us feels increasingly impossible to live in.

We don’t talk enough about how deeply mental health is tied to quality of life.

The cost of living keeps rising. Groceries cost more. Gas costs more. Even something as simple as going out with my friends has started to feel irresponsible.

According to recent reporting by PBS, grocery prices increased nearly 3% over the last year alone, marking the highest increase since 2023. At the same time, gas prices and rent continue to put pressure on families like mine, who are already struggling.

A University of Michigan consumer sentiment survey showed that Americans are reporting some of the lowest levels of financial confidence seen in decades, driven largely by rising costs and fears about the economy.

A gallon of gas is more expensive than it has been in four years. People are paying an average of $4.55 per gallon. It used to cost me $35 dollars to fill up my tank, now it’s $50, so you better believe I’m not leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. 

And it’s not just the cost of living crisis, it’s also the normalization of violence. 

People who look like me and my family are being targeted and terrorized. Violence has become so normalized that tragedies barely stay in the headlines before we move on to the next one. Every day feels like another reminder that cruelty has become political currency.

We’ve seen this administration attack our communities day in and day out. From cuts to essential programs like Medicaid and SNAP, to Trump’s prioritization of his billionaire friends. 

It’s a direct attack on the mental health of millions of people. And we’re expected to keep functioning normally through it all.

I think Noah’s point is simple. We should all want more out of life than just surviving. I, for one, want a full life; one where I can look back and know it was lived loudly, boldly, and unapologetically. I don’t want a life spent white-knuckling through another news cycle, another bill, another threat to people I love.

Mental health isn’t just about therapy and self-care. Yes, these things are important, but it’s also about having a world worth living in. It’s about affordable healthcare, safe communities, leaders who give a damn, and the freedom to exist without fear.

Through Community Change Action, I’ve found an outlet, a political home that makes me feel like I’m contributing. In my own way, I’m helping change the world the only way I know how: by creating and opening discussion around the issues our country is currently facing. Because here’s the truth I’ve learned: individual healing and collective action aren’t separate. They’re the same fight.

Your mental health matters. And so does the world we’re building together.