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From Darkness to Dialogue: Building Resilience and community with Talk Mental Health ID
Curled up on my bed, I’m a turtle hiding in its shell. My head feels like a drumbeat, a crazy rhythm that won’t stop. There are voices—nasty and loud—colliding inside my head.
“Shut up! Shut up! Please, just stop!” I whisper, my voice as small as a mouse.
Dad’s shouts at Mom, Mom’s screams back, Grandma’s constant comparison to my cousin Lita… They played like a broken record in my mind.
Then there are images… popping up without warning. That game of cards with my cousin. His body too close, his hands, big and rough, finding their way to where they shouldn’t. His fake smile as he said, “It’s okay”.
I want the voices to be quiet. I want the pictures to go away.
Bang!
I hit my head against the wall. It feels oddly satisfying, like a puzzle piece fitting in.
Bang!
Harder this time and feel good like something was released.
The voices slow down a little.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I didn’t stop until my head spins like a top.
Mom enters with a worried face. For once, I feel seen.
“Are you okay??”
I just cry, “I don’t know. I’m scared” My mom watches with wide eyes as my body shakes in an uncontrollable dance.
I was 8 years old.
The next week, Mom takes me to this strange older man. He claims I possess evil spirits. The man chants and trembles. I close my eyes, praying this strange show ends soon.
It didn’t help; I still felt the same every night. Besides, I grew ashamed because my neighbourhood found out and thought I was truly possessed.
Outside of my home, the world was a playground. I was a queen, a pirate, a fearless explorer. With my friends, I built forts, caught fish, laughed till our sides hurt, and dared the world.
Inside the house, I was always walking on eggshells, pretending to be okay. I chased perfect grades and good behavior, hoping it would earn me love and peace. But no matter how hard I tried, I felt empty inside.
I sought solace in the pages of books and the colours of art. There I found worlds where I was understood, valued, and seen.
School was a battleground. I fought, I bullied; I was a storm. I craved the attention I didn’t get at home. My only and best friend was always dragging me into wild schemes. The peak was helping her steal a debit card. The rush of excitement, fear, and thrill coursed through me, but it was short lived…we got caught.
“You disappointed me” my mom said after the meeting with the principal. All my walking on eggshells and good grades had become valueless. I felt numb and disconnected more than ever. Alone in my room, I began to have thoughts of suicide.
However, I wasn’t going to let the darkness win. I still had good grades and that was my ticket out. University was a lifeline, and psychology my compass. Surrounding myself with friends, joining clubs, volunteering, doing part-time jobs and finding a mentor was like rebuilding the broken parts of me. Therapy unlocked the door to healing. With each session, I felt a bit stronger.
Silent struggle: The Mental Health battle of Indonesian Youth
Young people in Indonesia deal with a complicated web of challenges involving high self-expectation, family pressures, and society expectations; these are especially difficult for those quietly struggling with mental health problems. The stigma around mental health in Indonesia keeps open discussion out of reach, which makes seeking treatment challenging. Mental health issues sometimes misinterpreted as moral or spiritual failings intensify their concerns even more. As a result, these youths struggle with daily activities, leading to academic failure, unemployment, and social isolation.
10-20% of young people worldwide suffer with mental illness; most often found are anxiety and depression. Systemic hurdles and cultural stigmatization aggravate the issue in Indonesia. One in three Indonesian teenagers reported having a mental health problem in the past year, according to the 2022 National Adolescent Mental Health Survey; many of them delayed getting care because of stigma.
Andi’s battles the emotional weight of hiding their LGBTQ+ status, leading to isolation and academic decline. Aisha, a 23-year-old from rural south Yogyakarta faces chronic stress symptoms due to sacrificing her goals to financially help her family. She simply cannot afford treatment. These are two stories among thousands in Yogyakarta.
Because of the development phase of their prefrontal cortex, young people are especially prone to societal and peer pressure. The COVID-19 epidemic, economic downturns, and constant social media bombardment have heightened mental health challenges. Further complicating the matter are cultural stigma and governmental obstacles include discrimination against the marginalised people like the LGBTQ+ and the disabled.
With the government including mental health into primary care and NGOs like Ubah Stigma and Yayasan Pulih trying to increase awareness and offer therapy, efforts to address mental health issues in Indonesia have found some success. But long-term, stigma free interventions are still needed.
Tembi Arunika: A Journey of Healing, Connection, and Creative Expression
When you step into Tembi Arunika (meaning village of hope) you immediately sense the unique spirit of the community. It’s evident that this is a sanctuary, not just an ordinary mental health space. The building is unfinished and semi-outdoor, with a raw, earthy beauty. Stone floors seamlessly blend with the lush greenery surrounding you. Large, leafy plants provide shade, while small herbs fill the air with their refreshing scent. Bean bags, along with spacious wooden tables and benches, are scattered around. Some youths are hunched over a table, having a serious conversation, others stand around in the open, airy environment, filling the space with loud laughter and warmth. It’s a level of open communication you’ve rarely encountered.
As you move further inside, on one side you see a young woman mixing a welcome drink in the kitchen area. On the other, you notice an industrial-style bookshelf filled with self-development books. It’s clear this place is more than just walls and rooms; it’s a place where young people can truly belong, create, and grow together.
A young man, likely in his early twenties, introduces himself as Adam, a support buddy. He hands you a brochure and offers you a tour. “We believe in the philosophy of ‘experience and experiment,’” he says with a beaming smile.
As Adam guides you through the facility, a room on the right catches your attention. The sign reads “Unleash Your Inner Artist.” You see a semi-open space connected to the backyard. Abstract paintings hang on the walls, and shelves are filled with art supplies and musical instruments like guitars and a piano. “This is the Creative Hub,” Adam explains, “a place alive with color, sound, and movement. Here, art therapy helps people process emotions and heal from trauma by expressing what they can’t put into words.”
Before you head into the backyard, you notice a small stage with a poster for Spicy Storytellers. The name reminds you of the spicy purple mojito you had earlier—a blend of sweet, sour, and the rich aroma of cardamom. Adam explains that Spicy Storytellers is one of Tembi Arunika’s main programs, an open mic event where people share their struggles, strengths, and hopes. “But it’s not just about storytelling,” he says. “It’s about listening, understanding, and connecting with others who’ve traveled similar paths.”
He adds, “This space is fluid. Creative young people who lead projects here shape it. For a small fee, you can join yoga today, a reading club tomorrow, or a community art project next week. You can even lead and shape events here.”
The possibilities begin to form in your mind, and you can’t help but smile. Adam notices your excitement and takes you to the garden, where rows of plant beds stretch out before you. He hands you a mint leaf, and the scent is stronger than any you’ve encountered. “That’s because our garden gets plenty of sun,” he says. “We use the herbs and greens we grow here for our monthly Magic Dinner Table events.” he adds, “Even the welcoming drink you had earlier was created by one of our community members who experimented with the recipe until they got it just right.” Adam explains that these meals are more than just food—they’re opportunities to share stories, build trust, and support one another in a non-judgmental environment.
Curious, you ask if all events take place here. “Mostly, but we also venture into the community” he replies, “We collaborate with other NGOs to connect with nature and the wider world. We’ve organized forest therapy sessions in Yogyakarta’s woodlands and beach clean-ups that included snorkeling. It’s all about connecting with like-minded people and making a difference.”
As you return to the main building, you notice a group of people sitting together. Adam points to a girl in a green t-shirt and says, “She’s one of our Rock Star Peer Counselors.” Intrigued, you ask what that means. “Rock Star Peer Counselors are young people trained to offer guidance and support based on their lived experiences. They help others navigate their challenges, either in this open space or the more private Resilience Room upstairs.”
Hearing this warms you. This is exactly what you’ve been looking for—a place where young people like you can talk about your challenges without judgment. You recall your parents suggesting that you see a psychologist, but the stigma felt overwhelming, and you weren’t sure you could trust someone who didn’t understand your struggles with your sexual identity.
A bit hesitant, you ask Adam if you can register for peer counseling. He smiles and hands you a form. As you fill it out, you’re relieved to see that you can choose a peer counselor with a background similar to yours. They include LGBTQI, mobility disability, needing sign language, addiction support, and more. For the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful. There is even a form for mentor support when you are ready to move ahead in life, with mentors from around the world ready to help you overcome your challenges.
Before you finish, Adam tells you about Tembi Arunika’s holistic approach to mental health literacy. “It’s not just about mental health,” he says. “We also teach problem-solving, communication skills, and financial literacy, alongside physical health and nutrition. These are all interconnected, so understanding them helps you manage your well-being more effectively.”
Adam sums up the essence of Tembi Arunika: “This isn’t a crisis center. Our focus is on education, awareness, and building a supportive community where young people can connect and help each other. We fill the gaps that many mental health providers miss, focusing on prevention and early intervention. Here, we equip you with resilience, knowledge, and life skills to handle challenges before they become crises.”
With a warm smile, he says, “Welcome to our community, and I hope to see you soon.” As he waves goodbye, a sense of belonging and excitement for the journey ahead fills you.
Building Belonging through Talk Mental Health
I am determined to create a space where young people, especially those who are often overlooked, can find healing, support, and a sense of belonging. This is what I mean with “Talk Mental Health Indonesia”