From Numb to Noticing: How Online Therapy Helped Me Feel Again

I wasn’t “broken.” I had a job. Friends. I smiled in photos. I replied to messages.
But I felt… nothing.

It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t anxiety. It was emptiness. Like I was living life behind a soundproof glass wall — watching myself perform a version of me I no longer recognized.

I didn’t think I needed therapy. But I also couldn’t keep pretending that “fine” was a fulfilling answer.

Chapter 1: The Invisible Weight

People talk about burnout like it’s a flame-out. Like one day you’re on fire and the next, you’re smoke. But mine was slow. Sneaky. I kept showing up — to work, to dinner, to life — until I didn’t recognize the version of myself that was doing the showing.

I wasn’t sleeping. My thoughts ran in loops. And joy? I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that without effort.

What scared me the most wasn’t the bad days — it was that I stopped expecting good ones.

Chapter 2: Finding Helply

I found Helply through a late-night scroll — you know, the kind you do when your chest is tight and your brain won’t shut up.

It felt… safe. Gentle. Not clinical. Not intimidating.

Signing up took less than 10 minutes. There were no judgmental forms. No pressure. Just options. Empathy. Space.

I booked a session before I could talk myself out of it.

Chapter 3: Session One — Saying It Out Loud

I told my therapist I didn’t know why I was there. She smiled and said, “That’s a good enough place to start.”

I cried. A lot. Over nothing and everything.

She didn’t rush me. Didn’t offer forced advice. She just heard me — in a way I hadn’t felt heard in years.

We talked about numbness. About emotional suppression. About how sometimes, your brain protects you by turning down the volume on your feelings. But healing means turning it back up — slowly, gently, with support.

Chapter 4: The Shifts That Matter

By week three, I noticed I was breathing deeper. By week six, I was journaling again. By week ten, I caught myself laughing — not because I had to, but because I felt joy in the moment.

Therapy didn’t “fix” me. It gave me permission to feel. To grieve. To pause. To start again.

Helply didn’t just connect me to a therapist. It reconnected me to me.

Outro & CTA:

If you’re reading this and feel nothing — I see you.

If you’re holding it together, but just barely — I see you.

And if you think therapy is only for people who are falling apart, I’m here to tell you: sometimes, it’s the strongest ones who need it the most.

🩵 Healing doesn’t start with a breakdown. It starts with a choice.

Ready when you are: [Start with Helply]