My Mental Health Journey in Nursing School

Being a mother and employee for many years meant putting my dreams on hold. Life demanded so much from me, paying bills, taking care of my child, protecting my health, and handling stress at work. It was overwhelming, and burnout felt inevitable at times. There were moments when I paused and wondered,

“Is this the life meant for me? Is this God’s plan? How can I be happy when life feels like an endless cycle of bills and problems?”

Almost instinctively, I remembered a dream I had long set aside, finishing my college degree. For me, it wasn’t just about earning a diploma. It was a promise I made to myself and to my father on his deathbed. A vow that no matter what happens, I would finish what I started and build a better life for myself and now to my daughter.

At 32 years old, I enrolled in the College of Nursing, full of hope and courage. I thought it would be a fresh start, but what I found was a path filled with unexpected struggles.

The Challenge of the Environment and Age Shaming

The academics were fulfilling. The lessons were meaningful. But the environment and some of the people I encountered were exhausting.

Instead of encouragement, I faced age-shaming and ridicule. Remarks like “ka tigulang na sa imu,” “inchida na lang ky mga bata pa,” and “bida-bida” became part of my daily reality. It was painful. I never sought respect because of my age, only the basic respect we owe each other as human beings. But in their eyes, my age meant I should tolerate their disrespect. As if my years of experience invalidated my right to dream, to try, and to grow alongside them.

This twisted mindset, that passion is arrogance and active participation is showing off, has replaced appreciation with judgment. Effort is no longer celebrated, but ridiculed.

Despite this, I chose to help where I could. I shared my time, my knowledge, and even my resources, whether it was helping others pay their tuition fees, food, or groceries, even paying for their boarding house, or just their daily pang baon. I offered my support without expecting anything in return.

But sadly, many of those I helped were the same students who repaid kindness with hurtful words and betrayal. It made me question:

Is this the new generation? One that quickly benefits from others’ kindness but struggles to offer gratitude or build a genuine connection?

It is heartbreaking when your efforts are seen as selfishness, and your kindness is twisted into a story where you are the villain. This has taken a toll on my mental health in ways I never imagined. A silent battle that I endured every time I go to school and to the classroom.

Beyond school, I was still juggling full-time work, financial responsibilities, household chores, raising a child, and being a wife. I thought pursuing this dream would bring peace, but instead, it became another battle, a test of endurance. 

The Gap Between Awareness and Action

Mental health awareness is loud on social media. We repost quotes, celebrate awareness days, and preach kindness. Mental health awareness is everywhere, in schools, different internet platforms and in conversations. But awareness without application is empty. 

Sadly, many advocate for mental health online but fail to practice empathy in real life. One painful irony, I encountered psychology students, future mental health advocates, who called me names like “gaga,” “wala pulos,” and “bida-bida.” They excelled academically, yet found joy in ruining the reputation of others.

Even fellow nursing students, who are taught compassion and care, fall into cycles of gossip and disrespect, sometimes targeting their classmates, sometimes their instructors.

Even with good education and hours of learning, some students still miss the most essential lessons, how to treat others with empathy and respect.

A close friend of mine who transferred to another school told me her experience was different. Yes, entitled students exist everywhere, but she said the environment at her new university was kinder and healthier. It made me wonder if I was simply in the wrong environment, a place where effort is mocked as “pasipsip” and passion is labeled “bida-bida.”

How do we build a better world when even the next generation of mental health professionals finds joy in tearing people down?

A Wake-Up Call to the Next Generation

If this is the next generation of healthcare professionals and mental health advocates, what does that say about the future? Learning stays in the classroom, but values are left outside.

If the future healthcare workers and mental health advocates cannot practice compassion now, what kind of world are we preparing for tomorrow?

Education should not only teach us skills. It should shape our hearts. Sadly, I have seen too much learning without empathy and knowledge without kindness. Education is not just about passing exams and getting degrees. It’s about becoming better humans. The challenge we face today is not the lack of knowledge, but the lack of heart.

Mental health awareness will remain meaningless unless we apply it in real life, when no one is watching. Kindness is not rocket science. It’s as simple as respecting people regardless of their age, gender, or social status. It’s in how we speak, how we treat others, and how we choose not to destroy someone’s mental health just because we disagree with them.

A Call to Practice What We Preach

Mental health advocacy must go beyond social media posts, and it should not stop at hashtags. It must be lived.

It should start with being a good person, kind in words and actions.

We don’t have to be perfect, but we can be better.
Better classmates. Better friends. Better humans.

Before you speak, think. Before you judge, listen. Before you tear someone down, ask yourself,
“What if it were me?”

Mental health is invisible. That’s why it’s easy to overlook, and even easier to harm.
If we truly care about mental health, let’s prove it in how we treat people daily.
Not just the people we like. Not just our peers.
But also those who are different.
Those who are older.
Those who are starting over.

Kindness is not complicated.
It costs nothing to respect someone who’s trying their best in a world that keeps knocking them down.

My Final Thoughts

My college journey has been painful, yet it has shaped me into someone stronger, someone who knows her worth, even when the world tries to diminish it.

Despite the challenges I’ve faced with my own mental health, I continue to advocate for mental wellness here in Iloilo. I took the steps to deepen my understanding by joining training and seminars, eventually becoming a certified mental health trainer. Beyond the certificates, I actively participate in and lead support group sessions within our community, transforming my struggles into lessons that enable me to support others.

I carried my own battles and transformed them into purpose, believing that healing is meant to be shared.

To anyone starting over later in life, whether you’re 25, 32, or 50, please know your dream is still and always valid. You are not too old. You are not behind. You are brave for choosing to pursue what matters to you. And your story matters deeply.

To anyone feeling broken in their pursuit of happiness and fulfillment, please remember, you are not alone. Stay kind, even when life feels cruel. Stay true, even when it hurts. And keep going, because your dream still has a place in this world.

And on the days when life feels heavier than usual, gently remind yourself why you started. Your story isn’t over yet. This chapter is part of your becoming.

No dream is too late to chase. No life is too broken to rebuild. And no heart is beyond healing.
Keep showing up even if today, all you can do is breathe.

Start over again.