I was listening to a playlist on Spotify last week when I stumbled upon "Avalanche" by Bring Me The Horizon. As soon as the song ended, I stopped for a minute. At first, it was just the music itself that drew me in. But on the second time I listened to it, the lyrics were what drew me in more. So much that I listened to it for two days straight. (I'm not kidding).

I connected with the lyrics in a way that I don't think I ever have with a song before. Some of the lyrics echo how life can feel sometimes, especially when dealing with mental wellness: "Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world" and "I need a cure for me 'cause a square doesn't fit the circle."

And the more I listened to it, the more I realized that mental health isn't such a crazy thing to talk about. Or at least it shouldn't be.

The song is about attention deficit hyperactive disorder, which lead singer Oliver Sykes was diagnosed with prior to the release of the band's 2015 album, "That's the Spirit." That story made me love it even more because it shows that the song is an honest, refreshing take on what I imagine it's like to deal with ADD and ADHD, and also what it's like to deal with mental-health issues:

"It's like an avalanche / I feel myself go under / 'cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck."

I'm no stranger to mental-health problems. I've had them since my early teen years, when my hysterics were so commonplace that hardly anyone batted an eye. Sometimes, I did things and said things that I couldn't understand in the moment.

Luckily, things calmed down in my early 20s, so these days, it's mostly anxiety that occasionally plagues me. Many people have it worse than I do, and lately, I've started to think about that—a lot, and I've begun wondering more about it. Many will openly admit to having some mental-health issue, but do they actually talk about it? Do they talk about what it's like to live in their head every day?

No, they don't. Think about it. What do people say in response when you ask someone, "How are you?" Most of the time, the person responds, "Good." But they may not actually be good. Everything that day or week or month or season in their life might suck, but we don't talk about that part. Most of us just give a perfunctory response. No reason to go beneath surface.

But I argue that there is.

The National Institute of Mental Health said that in 2014, 43.6 million adults 18 years or old in the U.S., or 18.1 percent of the population, had a mental illness. Women represented 21.8 percent of people with mental illnesses, while men represented 14.1 percent. People ages 26 to 49 had the highest statistic with 20.4 percent. The races that had the highest percentage were people with two or more ethnicities (27.1 percent) and Native Hawaiian or other Pacific Islander (22.3 percent).

That same year, 9.8 million U.S. adults 18 and older, or 4.2 percent had a serious mental illness.

So 18.1 percent of the total U.S. population has a mental illness, and 50 percent of adults are likely to experience some type of mental illness in their lifetime. And yet we don't talk about it. Many of us see mental-health problems as a sign of weakness.

In 2014, I attended a Friday Forum where African American beauty blogger Laqwanda Roberts spoke about her own dealings with depression. At age 15, she attempted suicide. She went on to become a psychotherapist. In January 2010, she admitted herself to a psychiatric hospital emergency room after dealing with bouts of psychosis. After a suicide in the family in February 2012, Roberts said that in the midst of learning about it, she realized that she hadn't actually spoken out about her own journey with mental health, so she started doing videos about it.

The U.S. Health and Human Services Office of Minority Health says that African Americans are 20 percent more likely to report serious psychological distress than white people, and black teenagers are more likely to attempt suicide than white teenagers. Black people are also more likely to be victims of violent crime, which makes them more likely to meet the criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder.

Still, talking about our mental states, no matter what race we are, is something we just don't do in today's society. How many people suffer alone because we don't want people to share the burden of what's really going on in our heads, because we think it'll make us sound whiny or weak? I'll tell you something that someone once told me: You're not the first or the last person to deal with this. It's harsh, yes, but it also means that you're not alone.

What do we all want in life? To be accepted, to feel wanted, to feel like someone is listening. But I have a feeling that many of us may feel like we're screaming into the abyss, and no one is around to listen. I know I do sometimes, and it can be hard to snap out of that mindset. We're all suffering, just in different ways. At times, we probably all think we're crazy and are tired of dealing with that nagging voice inside—the one that tells you over and over that you'll never be good enough or pretty enough or strong enough.

I'm going to guess that because we suffer silently, we don't really believe that mental health is that important. There's a stigma surrounding it. Some may believe that if you ask for help from a professional, you're weak. Or that if you decide to address your mental state through meditation or yoga or something else, you're crazy. Or that if you openly talk about it, you're needy. But I think it's just going to take that one step—just being honest with yourself and others.

Writer James Altucher says that if we're really honest with people, seven things might happen: 1. People will stop speaking to you. 2. They'll start thinking you're going to kill yourself. 3. They'll think you're crazy. 4. They'll get scared. 5. You'll amuse them. 6. People will begin trusting you.

And 7. Finally, you'll be free.

So find someone to confide in and talk to them, and don't be afraid to seek professional help when you need it. Start taking care of yourself—right now.

Assistant Editor Amber Helsel likes to cook, eat, make art and pet cats. Pottermore sorted her into Gryffindor, but she knows that her true house is Slytherin. Email her story ideas at [email protected].