“Just Pray About It”: How Do We Really Talk About Mental Health in Sri Lanka?

Marian de Silva

There is a particular kind of silence that surrounds mental health in Sri Lanka. It is not always the silence of people having nothing to say. Sometimes, it is the silence of people who have too much to say but do not know where to begin. Someone admits they have been struggling, and the response may come quickly: “Pray about it.” “Think positively.” “Everyone goes through difficult times.” “You are overthinking.” “You have a good life, so what is there to be sad about?”

Often, these words are not meant to cause harm. They may come from parents, friends, relatives or colleagues who genuinely want to help. In a country where faith, family and community remain deeply woven into everyday life, turning to prayer can be a sincere expression of care. But there is a difference between offering someone faith as a source of comfort and using faith to dismiss their suffering.

That difference matters. Sri Lanka has made progress in conversations surrounding mental health. The subject is no longer entirely hidden behind closed doors. Young people increasingly speak about anxiety, depression, burnout and emotional exhaustion. Social media has also created spaces where people share their experiences and find communities that understand what they are going through.

Yet, despite this growing awareness, talking about mental health openly remains difficult. The problem is not simply that Sri Lankans do not talk about mental health. It is that we often do not know how to talk about it. “But You Look Fine”

One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding mental health is that suffering should be visible. If someone has a broken arm, we can see the cast. If someone has a fever, we can measure their temperature. But emotional distress does not always come with an obvious physical symptom. A person can go to work, attend lectures, laugh with friends, post photographs online and appear completely fine while privately struggling to get through the day.

This creates a dangerous expectation: if you look functional, you must be fine. In Sri Lankan society, this expectation can become particularly powerful because of the emphasis placed on resilience. From childhood, many are taught to endure. Study harder. Work harder. Be grateful. Do not complain. Think about those who have less.

There is value in resilience. But resilience should not become an excuse for ignoring pain. Telling someone to “be strong” may sound encouraging, but sometimes what they need is permission not to be strong for a moment.

They may need someone to say, “I can see that you are struggling. Do you want to talk about it?” That simple question can be more powerful than a dozen motivational quotes.

When Faith Becomes a Substitute for Help.

Religion and spirituality can play an important role in mental wellbeing. Prayer can provide comfort, meaning and hope. For many people, faith is an important part of how they cope with difficult circumstances.

The problem begins when prayer is presented as the only answer. Mental health problems are not moral failures, nor are they necessarily signs of weak faith. A person can pray and still need therapy. A person can have a strong relationship with their religion and still experience depression or anxiety. Seeking professional help does not automatically mean that someone has abandoned their faith.

In fact, these things do not have to compete. A person can pray and see a psychologist. They can seek comfort from their religious community while also receiving professional treatment. They can rely on their family while learning coping strategies from a mental health professional.

The question should not be whether someone chooses faith or professional help. The question should be whether they are receiving the support they actually need. When “just pray about it” becomes a way of ending the conversation rather than beginning one, it can leave a struggling person feeling even more isolated. They may begin to believe that their inability to “pray their problems away” is another failure on their part. That is an unfair burden to place on someone who is already struggling.

The Family Question

For many Sri Lankans, family is the first support system. It can also be the first barrier. Parents may worry about what relatives will say. Young people may fear being labelled dramatic or attention-seeking. Adults may hesitate to discuss their struggles because they believe they have a responsibility to remain strong for their families. There is also the uncomfortable question of reputation. “What will people think?”

It is a phrase that has shaped countless decisions in Sri Lankan households. A person may avoid therapy because someone might find out. A family may avoid discussing a diagnosis because they fear gossip. Someone may hide their medication because they do not want friends or colleagues asking questions. The fear of judgement can become so powerful that people choose silence over support.

But silence does not make a problem disappear. It simply makes it harder to address. Mental health should not be treated as a family embarrassment. Nor should a diagnosis become a label that defines an entire person. Someone experiencing depression is not “a depressed person” before they are anything else. Someone experiencing anxiety is not weak. Someone seeking therapy is not broken. They are people. And people sometimes need help.

The Generation That Is Supposed to Have Everything

Young Sri Lankans are growing up in a particularly complicated environment. They are expected to perform academically, build successful careers, maintain friendships, support their families and increasingly present a polished version of their lives online. At the same time, economic uncertainty, academic pressure, employment concerns and rapidly changing social expectations can create enormous stress. Social media adds another layer. We see other people's achievements constantly. Someone is travelling. Someone got a scholarship. Someone got married. Someone bought a car. Someone started a business. Someone graduated with first-class honours.

The screen rarely shows the uncertainty behind those achievements. Yet we compare our ordinary lives with everyone else's highlights. The result can be a persistent feeling that we are falling behind. Perhaps one of the most damaging questions young people repeatedly ask themselves is not “Am I happy?” but “Am I doing enough?”

• Enough for our parents.
• Enough for society.
• Enough compared with our friends.
• Enough compared with the people we see online.

Eventually, exhaustion becomes normal.

• We call it being busy.
• We call it adulthood.
• We call it ambition.

Sometimes, it is simply burnout.

The Problem With “Everyone Has Problems”

Another common response to emotional distress is comparison. “You think you have problems? Look at what other people are going through.” It is true that suffering exists on different scales. Someone else's hardship may be objectively greater than ours. But pain is not a competition. We do not tell someone with a broken leg that they are not allowed to hurt because someone else has lost both legs.

Likewise, a person does not need to prove that their suffering is severe enough before they deserve support. Being grateful for what we have and acknowledging that we are struggling can exist at the same time. A person can appreciate their family and still feel lonely. They can have a good career and still feel overwhelmed. They can have financial security and still experience emotional distress. They can have a loving home and still need professional help. Human emotions do not follow a checklist of privileges.

Are We Listening, or Are We Fixing?

Perhaps one of the biggest changes Sri Lanka needs is not simply more awareness, but better listening. When someone tells us they are struggling, our instinct is often to fix the problem. We offer advice. We tell them what they should do. We share a story about someone who had it worse. We tell them to exercise, sleep earlier, pray, stop thinking negatively or simply “get over it.” Sometimes, however, people are not asking us to solve their lives. They are asking to be heard. Listening does not require a psychology degree. It requires patience. It means resisting the urge to immediately judge, compare or provide solutions. It can be as simple as saying, “That sounds really difficult.”

• Or, “Thank you for telling me.”
• Or, “I'm here if you want to talk.”

And if the situation appears serious, encouraging someone to seek professional help can be an act of care, not rejection. We should also learn to recognise when a conversation needs to move beyond friends and family. Mental health professionals exist for a reason. Seeking their support should not be treated as a last resort reserved for people who are “really bad.” We do not wait until a physical illness becomes life-threatening before visiting a doctor. Mental health deserves the same seriousness.

Changing the Conversation

Sri Lanka does not need to abandon its traditions, families or faith in order to improve the way it approaches mental health. It needs to make room for another kind of conversation. A conversation where prayer can coexist with therapy. Where strength can include asking for help. Where parents can ask their children how they are actually doing, rather than only asking about their grades and where friends can check in without waiting for a crisis. Where workplaces understand that employees are human beings, not machines. Where schools teach young people that emotional wellbeing is not something to be ashamed of. And where a person can say, “I am not okay,” without immediately being told that they have no reason to feel that way. The phrase “just pray about it” does not necessarily need to disappear. Perhaps what needs to disappear is the word “just.” Pray, if prayer gives you strength. Talk to someone you trust. Seek professional help when you need it. Rest. Ask questions. Take care of yourself. Do whatever helps you move towards wellbeing. But do not reduce someone's entire struggle to a single sentence. Because sometimes the person saying “I'm not okay” is not asking for a sermon, a solution or a comparison. They are simply asking someone to stay. And perhaps that is where the conversation about mental health in Sri Lanka truly needs to begin.