Why I Became a Mental Health Advocate: Honouring My Sister, Dr. Dheeraji Guterres (Raji Prasad)
Introduction: A Legacy of Compassion
Mental health is a deeply personal journey for many, but for me, it's more than just lived experience—it's a lifelong commitment inspired by someone extraordinary. My sister, Dr. Dheeraji Guterres—known to family and friends as Raji Prasad—was more than a psychiatrist. She was my friend, my healer, my safe place. Raji embodied compassion, intelligence, and unwavering support for those struggling with mental health. Her legacy fuels my passion to make mental health support accessible, normalised, and embraced by our community.
Through her work, Raji demonstrated how listening, empathising, and educating could transform lives. She made a difference, and in her memory, I strive to do the same. This blog explores why I advocate for mental health, how stigma still dominates our communities, why children and adults alike suffer in silence, and what we can do to dismantle these barriers.
The Power of Raji's Work
Raji wasn’t just a professional—she was a pioneer. She understood that mental health wasn’t just clinical; it was personal. Her approach went beyond prescriptions and diagnoses. She taught me that mental illness is not a moral failing or a weakness but a human condition that deserves empathy and treatment.
Patients often travelled from far and wide to see her—not just because of her qualifications, but because she made them feel safe. She saw through labels and diagnoses. She saw the person. And when I went through my darkest times—struggling with PTSD, depression, grief—Raji stood by me, not as a doctor, but as someone who understood. She taught me how to accept my past and turn my pain into purpose.
The Void Left Behind
Losing Raji left a hole in my world that words can hardly describe. When the person who understood you best is suddenly gone, the silence becomes deafening. The grief is layered—not just for the life lost, but for the absence of a steady hand that once pulled you back from the edge.
For anyone who has lost a loved one who was also their emotional anchor, you’ll understand how deeply unsettling it feels. There’s no replacement for the kind of presence that simply gets you—without having to explain, without needing words. Her absence magnified my struggles, yet it also sharpened my resolve to keep advocating. To ensure others don’t have to endure loss in silence. Her voice, though now quiet, still guides me.
Why People Hide From Mental Health Challenges
Mental health remains one of the most stigmatised aspects of our well-being. People hide their struggles for several reasons:
Shame and Stigma: Societal views often portray mental illness as weakness. This is especially true in cultures where masculinity, independence, and emotional resilience are praised.
Fear of Discrimination: People worry that admitting to a mental health condition will impact their job, relationships, or social standing.
Lack of Education: Many simply don’t know what mental health conditions look like. Depression, anxiety, PTSD—they are not always visible.
Cultural Taboos: In some communities, mental illness is associated with curses or moral failings. This creates intergenerational silence.
Inadequate Access to Care: Long waitlists, high costs, and regional shortages of mental health professionals (especially in rural and regional Australia) mean people don’t get the help they need when they need it.
As a result, many suffer in silence. According to Beyond Blue, one in five Australians experience a mental health condition in any year—but fewer than half seek help (source).
Why Children Suffer in Silence
Children, especially, are vulnerable. They often don’t have the language to describe what they’re feeling, nor the awareness to recognise it as a mental health concern. Here’s why:
Fear of Not Being Believed: Children rely on adults to validate their experiences. When adults dismiss emotional struggles as "growing pains," children learn to internalise pain.
Lack of Safe Spaces: Many children grow up in environments where expressing emotion is discouraged.
Bullying and Peer Pressure: Social media, school environments, and peer groups can be unforgiving. The pressure to conform, fit in, and hide emotional vulnerability is immense.
Family Trauma: Exposure to domestic violence, divorce, substance abuse, or grief can create trauma that goes unaddressed for years.
Academic Pressure: In Australia, school performance is a major source of stress for children. The fear of failure or disappointing parents can lead to anxiety and depression (source).
A 2023 report by Mission Australia and the Black Dog Institute found that one in three Australian young people experience psychological distress, yet many don’t reach out for help (source).
The Role of Advocacy
Mental health advocacy involves speaking up, providing education, fighting stigma, and expanding access to resources. But it also involves listening—really listening—to those who feel invisible.
When Raji passed away, I realised that her advocacy couldn’t stop with her. The torch had to be passed on. So I began speaking, writing, and sharing not only my story—but hers.
I advocate to:
Normalise Conversations: To make it as normal to say "I’m seeing a therapist" as it is to say "I’m going to the dentist."
Educate Communities: By engaging with schools, workplaces, and cultural groups, we help dismantle myths.
Support Families: Providing resources to parents and caregivers so they can better support loved ones.
Create Safe Spaces: Encouraging environments—online and offline—where people can share without fear.
Turning Pain Into Purpose
PTSD, depression, grief—they’ve all visited me. But I refuse to let them define me. I use my experiences to build bridges for others.
It took me a long time to understand that accepting the past isn’t about forgetting. It’s about acknowledging what happened, grieving, and making peace with the pain. As I’ve done that, I’ve found a new calling: to help others do the same.
The emptiness that came with Raji’s passing will never fully go away, but I’ve learnt to channel it. Her belief in me, even in my most broken moments, reminds me that I still have a voice—and that voice matters.
Conclusion: Carrying the Flame
My sister Raji’s legacy is one of healing. Her kindness, intelligence, and empathy changed lives. Now it’s my turn to carry that legacy forward.
If this blog does anything, let it be a reminder: you are not alone. Whether you’re a child trying to make sense of anxiety or an adult burdened by depression—your story matters. And there is help.
Resources for Help
In loving memory of Dr. Dheeraji Guterres (Raji Prasad). Your light lives on.
