Too Young to Have it All Figured Out: A Conversation about Peer Support and the Courage to Ask for Help in Dealing with Mental Health in Early Adulthood

Rhenan Cauê Barbosa Batista would have liked to study medicine, but because the tuition fees were beyond his family’s means, he chose dentistry instead. He also secured an internship in the administrative department of his university — Unitpac (Presidente Antônio Carlos University Center of Tocantins), in Northern Brazil — so he could support himself without relying on his parents, who live in another city.

We are talking about a 20-year-old who is not studying exactly what he dreamed of and who does not have as much time as he would like to devote to his studies because he chooses to work in order not to add to his family’s financial burden. These are two key aspects of the transition to adulthood, and both pose challenges to his mental health. That was the focus of our video call conversation with him, highlights of which are shared below.

What are some of the main challenges of your transition into adulthood?

For me, everything somehow comes back to a bill that needs to be paid. I think so much of life today revolves around money, you know? Paying for things, paying for things all the time. In university life, the biggest transition into adulthood is realizing how much we spend and understanding what it means for an adult to survive on a minimum wage while paying rent, water, electricity, and other expenses.

Do you come from a modest background?

My stepfather, whom I consider my father because he raised me, and my mother are both teachers. We always lived in the countryside — I’m a country boy. We were never in a bad financial situation, but I don’t like depending on other people, you know? Since I was 17, I’ve always looked for projects that offered scholarships or some kind of income to help with household expenses.

The university I attend is private. When I started, tuition was over BRL 2,000 (USD 400) per month, which seemed like a huge amount of money to me. Then I was able to get a full scholarship through ProUni. But there is still rent and household expenses. I’ve been living on my own here in Araguaína, in the state of Tocantins, for a year and a half, and I’ve had to face all those challenges that come with leaving your parents’ home and living independently.

Have navigating these challenges on your own affected your mental health?

Very much so, because you arrive completely in the dark. Your mother is no longer there to say, “Do it this way and you’ll figure it out.” I don’t like depending on others, so I always try to support myself as much as possible. I only ask my parents for financial help when things are really difficult.

My mother didn’t want me to work. But I told her I couldn’t stay here doing nothing but studying. So, I looked for a job. Some days I come home exhausted and choose sleep over studying. Then the guilt kicks in: “My parents work so hard, and here I am sleeping instead of studying.”

Do you think self-pressure and guilt are the main factors behind some of the mental health challenges you faced?

Yes, self-pressure, but also insecurity. We suddenly start dealing with much bigger responsibilities: university, work, decisions about the future. We don’t always get to choose the degree we truly want. If I could have chosen freely, I would be studying medicine, but I didn’t get into a public university and private medical school costs around BRL 12,000 (USD 2,400) a month. My parents couldn’t afford that. So, making these kinds of decisions, settling for Plan B,  is already a huge responsibility, and it can affect your mental health. There’s also social pressure to be strong all the time, to succeed, and not to show vulnerability or emotions.

Does that pressure come exclusively from society or from personal pressure as well?

I think it comes from society. You’re expected to present yourself as mature all the time. But at 20 years old, I don’t consider myself mature enough to handle every obstacle and challenge life throws at me. I have to show others that I have that maturity, but inside it’s not like that. Emotionally, we get overwhelmed. We cry at home. It really affects our mental health.

In this same society that puts pressure on young people, have you found any sources of mental health support through public services, NGOs, or people around you?

Most of the emotional support I find comes from my university friends who are going through the same situation. They also moved from other cities and face the same challenges. We share experiences and emotions, and that is already a huge source of support. The university also provides psychologists for students, and we make good use of that service.

Speaking of friends, do you feel they are prepared to talk about mental health? Are they willing to engage in these conversations?

Nowadays, yes. At least among my circle of friends. When someone is struggling and needs to talk, they send a message and say, “Come over.” Then we spend hours talking.

I’ve done that many times myself — inviting someone over to sit on the sidewalk or on the porch and just talk about life as a way to distract ourselves. Everything today feels very intense, you know? The internet, TikTok, everything is so superficial.

Having friendships with people who genuinely care about each other’s feelings, who think carefully before speaking because they know their words can hurt someone, is very important to me.

You mentioned the psychologists available at your university. Have you used those services, and why?

Yes. I sought support to talk about this transition into adulthood and to receive emotional guidance, because nobody is fully prepared for adult life. Nobody is born ready to take on such major responsibilities.

We start with the basics and grow emotionally over time. Maturing involves making mistakes. We need to learn how to change our minds, start over, fail, and try again.

We should normalize emotional support and understand that young people don’t need to face all of this alone. And beyond professional help, we can also share our experiences with other young people. For example, in Juntô [Youth Council], none of the other young people have formal mental health training, but we talk openly about these issues because we have lived experience and personal stories connected to them.

Are these psychological consultations occasional, or are you engaged in ongoing therapy?

They’re occasional. I’ve had about two sessions during this year and a half, when I really needed someone to talk to.

Have you ever sought other forms of support, such as a psychiatrist or services through Brazil’s public health system?

No, but I use Brazil’s public healthcare system quite often, and I’ve seen firsthand how important it is to have teams dedicated to supporting the community’s mental health, including CAPS (Psychosocial Care Centers).

Is there any specific example you’ve witnessed?

I’ve seen many people thank a psychologist or psychiatrist for changing their lives through a single appointment, a conversation, or a service provided entirely free of charge — something they could never have afforded otherwise.

Some of these people were experiencing very severe mental health challenges, including suicidal thoughts.

And what about Juntô? Has being part of this youth council and being immersed in an environment that promotes mental health care had any impact on your own life?

Juntô is my escape valve — my source of light. Talking with other young people who face similar situations or seeing that other young people can discuss these issues thoughtfully even without professional or academic training, means a lot to me. It allows me to share my own experiences while also learning from others.