When Silence Becomes the Language of Young People
There is one sentence we may hear too often from friends, younger siblings, or even ourselves: “I’m fine, just tired.” That short sentence sounds trivial, but it often becomes a curtain covering something far heavier: suppressed anxiety, accumulated emotional exhaustion, or even symptoms of a mental disorder never acknowledged for fear of burdening others, or fear of being considered excessive.
I myself have been at that point. There was a time when my chest felt tight for no clear reason, my mind kept spinning about things that had not even happened, and sleep never felt enough to restore energy. For some time, I answered the question “what’s wrong?” with the same answer as most people: “just tired.” Until I finally decided to consult via Halodoc, just trying, without any expectations. From there, I received a diagnosis of anxiety disorder unspecified from the handling psychologist. The feeling was mixed: there was relief because I finally knew what I was actually feeling, but also awkwardness about admitting it openly, even to those closest to me.
That experience taught me one important thing: seeking help does not require a moment “severe enough” to be considered worthy. The sooner we recognise and acknowledge what we are feeling, the lighter the recovery process becomes.
Perhaps my sensitivity to this issue is also inseparable from my family background. My parents separated when I was 2.5 years old, and I grew up without a complete father and mother figure by my side. I do not intend to simplify the reasons for my parents’ separation, because every family has its own complex dynamics. But what I understand now, after growing up and experiencing mental health issues myself, is that an incomplete family condition from an early age can leave long emotional traces, even if they are often invisible from the outside. Years later, I myself was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. This may not be a coincidence, but rather a real picture of how childhood wounds that were never truly processed can continue to be carried into adulthood, if not recognised and addressed early on.
That is not a single case. It is a small portrait of a much larger problem currently happening to millions of young Indonesians: a mental health crisis that runs silently, covered by short sentences like “I’m just tired.” In fact, a nation will never be truly strong if its next generation grows up with tired, anxious minds, accustomed to burying everything alone.
Facts That Can No Longer Be Ignored
Data speaks much louder than assumptions. The first national survey on adolescent mental health in Indonesia, the Indonesia-National Adolescent Mental Health Survey (I-NAMHS), revealed that one in three adolescents aged 10–17 years, equivalent to 15.5 million people, experienced a mental health problem in the past year. One in twenty adolescents has even been diagnosed with a mental disorder requiring serious treatment. Anxiety was recorded as the most common complaint, with a higher prevalence among adolescent girls than boys.
More concerning, of the millions of adolescents experiencing mental health problems, only about 2.6 percent actually accessed counselling services or mental health facilities. This means the vast majority are burying issues that could actually be handled, solely because of stigma, lack of access, or ignorance that help is available and permissible to seek.
Recent findings from the Free Health Check (CKG) programme for the 2025–2026 period, initiated by the Ministry of Health, also reinforce this picture. From around seven million children who underwent screening, nearly ten percent showed symptoms of anxiety and depression. This is no longer a personal issue for a handful of children, but a structural phenomenon touching millions of Indonesian adolescents simultaneously.
Why This Is a National Concern, Not Just a Personal One
Herein lies the relevance of the grand theme “A Healthy Society, A Strong Indonesia.” The strength of a nation is ultimately determined by the quality of its human resources, and superior human resources cannot possibly be born from a generation that continuously wrestles with anxiety without adequate support. When one in three adolescents experiences a mental health problem but only a fraction receive treatment, it means a huge national potential is at risk of not developing optimally, whether in education, productivity, or future social contribution.
This issue also does not stand alone. It intertwines with the strengthening of the Free Nutritious Meals Programme, the Free Health Check-ups, and the improvement of health facilities in the regions. Physical and mental health are two sides of the same coin that cannot be separated. A child who is anxious or depressed will have difficulty absorbing nutrition and learning well at school. Conversely, a child who is physically unwell due to lack of nutrition is more vulnerable to emotional pressure. Therefore, mental health must be an integral part of the national health transformation strategy, not merely a complementary discourse.
What We Can Do Now
First, mental health literacy must be introduced early, from the family and school environment. Children need to be taught that feeling sad, anxious, or tired is human, and that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Second, access to psychological counselling services must be expanded, not only in big cities but also in districts and villages, including through telemedicine platforms that have proven effective. Third, the government needs to ensure that mental health screening in programmes like CKG is followed by clear referral pathways and affordable treatment, so it does not stop at mere data collection.
Finally, we all need to stop trivialising the sentence “I’m just tired.” Because behind that sentence, there might be a cry for help that has not found the courage to speak. A great Indonesia must start from a healthy generation, not only physically, but also mentally. And mental health is not a luxury, but a fundamental right of every child of the nation.