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Sitting still so others don't have to struggle in silence...

On December 6, I’ll be stepping into a 2x2m square for 20 hours of silence as part of 20 Hours for 20Talk.

I’m doing this because I know what it feels like to reach out for help and hear that you’re “fine,” “crazy,” or “just need to pray more.” I’ve been told to exercise, to cheer up, to stop overthinking. None of those things helped when I was trying to keep my head above water. Sometimes even the people in your inner circle can't provide you the kind of support you need. They mean well, but they aren’t always equipped. And when you’re already doubting yourself, being dismissed can make the darkness feel even heavier.

Since moving to Australia almost two years ago, I’ve been in constant motion (working, building, rewilding, adjusting). I’ve been so focused on getting everything running smoothly that I haven’t had much space to stop and ask myself what comes next. I’m craving purpose again, something deeper than productivity or checklists. This challenge feels like a way to reconnect with that part of myself. 

I want to help change the kind of silence that isolates people. I’m raising $1,000 to support 20Talk, an organisation that gives young people the tools and education to understand and care for their mental health before it spirals into crisis.

Some stats to put things into perspective:

• 80% of the population is supported by only 2% of mental health prevention funding (Mental Health Commission, 2021)
• Depression is predicted to become the world’s leading disease by 2030 (World Health Organization, 2021)
• $200 puts a young adult through a one-day Mental Health Maintenance course (20Talk, 2024)
• $1,000 helps reach 80,000 people online with mental health education (20Talk, 2024)

It’s also a way to give back now that I’ve learned how to swim (or maybe float on my back) instead of drowning. It’s a little celebration of all the hard work and lovely people that made sure I’d come out the other side stronger when I wasn’t so sure myself.

A little letter to make it more personal:
For every person who donates, I’ll write you a letter while I’m in my 20 hours of silence. It could be a reflection, a thank-you, a story, or an answer to a question you send me. I want to take that quiet time to connect in a way that feels real, human, thoughtful, and honest. This challenge is also a way to give back now that I’ve learned how to swim (or maybe float on my back) instead of drowning. It’s also a little celebration of all the hard work and lovely people that made sure I’d come out the other side stronger when I wasn’t so sure myself. 

Please donate, share this link, and ask your friends to do the same. Every bit of support helps make space for someone who’s struggling to be seen and understood.