At least, that’s what I used to think until the latter half of 2024 came into my life. 

Whenever I heard people say, “You should try therapy, go see a counsellor,” I’d immediately reject the idea. I always knew that I might be broken, that something is seriously wrong in my head. But that is what psychiatrists are for, right? I don’t need to pay someone to listen to me talk about my problems when I can just vent to a friend for free, and I didn’t even like the idea of venting to other people. Gobbling my own emotions down my throat, battling with my own thoughts, and passing every single day as it came somehow seemed the only response I could afford. Plus, what are they going to tell me that I don’t already know? If you need healing, prescribed medication always made more sense to me. 

Which is why counselling sounded like one of those feel-good scams. A glorified chat in an organised, well-decorated room with a stranger who nods at issues that seem to be the biggest antagonists of your life, and then asks, “And how does that make you feel?”, and charges you a hefty fee for the privilege. No thanks. 

So I avoided it. For years. 

But eventually, life did what life does. It got too heavy to carry. I started feeling stuck in the same loops. Same thoughts, same reactions, same burnout. And no matter how many productivity hacks I tried, how many unprescribed drugs I swallowed just to calm my inner self, or how many motivational videos I watched, nothing really changed. I went to a state-run mental hospital to see a psychiatrist, but classic state-run reluctance and fast-paced checkups made me feel undervalued. Even though I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) and was provided with free medication, I never tried those because of my genuine fear of antidepressants—a fear that grew from watching friends and acquaintances lose their spark due to antidepressants. Don’t get me wrong, I would definitely try it if the psychiatrist took his time, listened to my problems without hurry, and discussed the problem, solution, and medication with me. 

By that time, my postgrad classes were almost coming to an end. A friend of mine worked for a mental health organization—the one you are currently on the website of, Moner Bondhu—and suggested I give counselling a chance. He also took care of the fees, as he already knew my distaste toward it. 

So, somewhat reluctantly, I gave counselling a shot. One session. Just to prove to myself that it didn’t work. 

The same type of well-decorated, not-too-fancy room. A stranger, and a few questions. There I started, pouring my heart out, yet alert to how I might be perceived. It went on for so long that my session time was over before I barely finished. The session ended. I was the only person to talk the whole time. All my counsellor did was note down silently, ask a few questions, and say, “So this is what we discussed today, and we’ll move forward from here in the next session.”

I felt betrayed. I thought, Not only is counselling a scam, but it also aims to keep you hooked like daily soap operas with a cliffhanger to manipulate you into booking the next session. I went there to get my problems fixed—the least he could do was at least talk about those, and he didn’t even do that. 

I somewhat accepted that this is how my life was going to go on. In a country where quality mental health service isn’t affordable for a student like I was, I just had to struggle and get by. Unprescribed medications crept back into my life as I had to sit for finals. And right after it was over, I started going out with someone. I got myself a full-time job and decided that since I could finally afford a private-practising psychiatrist, I would reach out to one. 

Then came the confusion again. I knew I had to find the right fit, but I had no idea who it could be. I eventually decided to go back to the counsellor to see if he could find a psychiatrist that suited me. 

I finally found a psychiatrist, visited her, and got prescribed medication. As the structure of the state crumbled in July 2024, I drifted apart from the person I was seeing due to compatibility issues, and the side effects of the prescribed medication started to pin me down. I kept feeling like a vegetable every single day, unable to perform even the most basic of functions. I realized the pills were taking away my spark too. I didn’t know whom to turn to, what to do. The only option I felt I had left was to go back to my counsellor. 

And that’s when everything started to shift. 

Not instantly. Not dramatically. But slowly, I began to realize what I had misunderstood all along: the point of counselling isn’t to fix you. It’s not a shortcut, it’s not a magic pill, and your counsellor isn’t some guru with all the answers. 

The real goal is clarity. 

It’s like having someone hold up a mirror—not to judge, but to help you see. See your patterns. See the stories you’ve been telling yourself. See the beliefs that silently run the show inside your own head. See why you are the way you are, why you act the way you act. 

Once I started noticing those things, something clicked. My problems didn’t disappear, but I began to understand them. And that understanding gave me power. It gave me space to breathe. To respond differently. To make actual changes instead of spinning in circles. I won’t lie—the medications and the change of beliefs weren’t easy at all. But I went through it all. 

Counselling didn’t fix me. It helped me see clearly enough to start fixing myself. It provided me with tricks and practices to regulate my thoughts. 

And here’s the truth I didn’t want to hear: that part—the actual change? It’s still on me. Counselling is the armoury that can provide you with the shields and swords; it will educate you on the war tactics, but it won’t fight the war for you. Counselling can guide you, but it can’t walk the path for you. That’s the deal. 

So no, counselling isn’t a scam. 

Believing that someone else can change your life for you? That’s a scam. 

I’m doing way better. All my problems in life didn’t disappear magically. But I’m better equipped to tackle them in a healthy way now. 

I know this article may sound like an elaborate paid promotion of Moner Bondhu. But trust me, it’s not. Go seek professional help if you feel like you need it. It doesn’t necessarily have to be at a particular place that I mentioned here. But if you are a teenager or young adult looking for quality mental health service at an affordable price, you can check out the options Moner Bondhu offers. 

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading.