Am I Too Much or Not Enough?

Dear Still Waters,

Everyone always says, “Don’t struggle alone.” But let’s be real—most people don’t actually want to hear your problems. Not when the mess is deep and wide and hard to explain.

I’m good at passing for fine. I keep the wheels turning, say the right things, even show up when I’d rather disappear. But underneath? I’m bone-tired in my body and soul. There’s grief I haven’t named out loud, loneliness that sticks even in a crowded room, and a heavy, quiet shame I can’t seem to shake.

Sometimes I think about reaching out, but then this voice in my head says: Don’t make it weird. Don’t dump your mess on people who are already stretched thin. So I pray. I journal. I press on. Isn’t that the Christian thing to do? Isn’t it better to handle it only between me and God?

But if I’m honest—I’m not handling it. I’m unraveling. And I don’t know how to say “I need help” without feeling like I’m dropping a weight on someone else’s already full shoulders.

— Mrs. Too Much and Not Enough

Dear Mrs. Too Much,

Writing in and sharing your experience with raw honesty took courage. Give yourself credit for that. Putting pain into words brings things into the light—and in that light, we begin to find shared experience instead of silent suffering.

Life feels unbearably heavy sometimes. Grief, anxiety, shame, exhaustion—these are real things. And no one—not even a surrendered, faithful, and prayerful Christian—is meant to carry them alone. The idea that strength always means suffering in silence isn’t biblical. It’s burdensome.

Galatians 6:2 tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” It does not say “fix” one another’s burdens. It says to bear them. That means walking alongside someone—not to rescue or resolve—but to be present, to help shoulder what’s too heavy to carry alone.

Jesus modeled that. He wept openly. He asked His friends to stay near Him when sorrow pressed in. The Son of God didn’t always go it alone—and you don’t have to either.

It might help to ask yourself: If someone you love came to you carrying this kind of pain, would you call her “too much”? Or would you see her as someone brave enough to trust you with what’s real?

You are not a problem to be solved. You are a person to be loved. And love doesn’t wait for people to be perfect or put together. It shows up in the mess and the unraveling. That’s genuine community. That’s not too much. And you're not "not enough".

So, when you’re struggling, don’t go silent. Let someone in. You’re not interrupting their life—you’re inviting them to live out the love Christ calls us to.

Grace and peace to you, — A Still Waters Therapist