Finding Freedom From a Life Under Pressure

Charley Todd

We’ve never had less stigma around mental health—and yet we’ve never seen more people struggling with it. Anxiety is up. Depression is rising. More people than ever are naming what’s happening in their minds and bodies—and that’s progress. But talking about it isn’t the same as healing from it.

We’re flooded with mental health content and self-care quotes, but still running on empty. Why? Because awareness isn’t the finish line. It’s the starting gate. We need to talk not just about diagnosis and acceptance, but about the work—what it takes to actually feel better, lead better, live better.

As insurance agents, we live in our heads. There’s always another rate increase, another lead to chase, another vendor to book a demo with. You’re leading a team, serving clients, navigating tough markets—and doing it all while secretly wondering if you’re the only one barely holding it together.

You’re not.

In the last few years, I’ve gone from hiding my panic attacks to talking about them on stage. I’ve gone from thinking I was broken, to discovering that healing is not only possible—it’s transformative. I now believe that mental health is one of the greatest business advantages we rarely talk about.

No room to breathe

At one point, I was juggling what felt like five full-time lives.

I was launching a new insurance agency in a new state I didn’t know—while still being the head of my father’s 30-plus-year agency. I was feeling the pressure of protecting his hall-of-fame Allstate legacy while also being tasked with modernizing it. I was the CEO in title, but every decision felt like a power struggle. Succession is no joke, and understanding family business dynamics without support and wisdom from those who’ve been through it can be brutal.

I was also in a demanding full-time Master of Fine Arts program, reading two novels a week, writing my own and trying to be impressive to a panel of brilliant classmates and mentors. I believed then, and I believe now, that story is critical to everything we do and an investment in becoming a better storyteller would make me a better leader in our businesses. But to try and do all this at the same time was too much. On top of it all I started an e-commerce brand as a side hustle and it became more demanding than I had expected.

I felt like there was no room for error and no room to breathe. On paper, I was living the dream. Friends and colleagues asked how I managed to do it all, but I didn’t know how to say that, in truth, I felt like I was drowning.

One morning I woke up sweating through my sheets at 4 a.m. and felt my heart pounding through my chest. More than anything, I felt like there was constant noise that I couldn’t turn off in my head, and this thought came to me—that to die could be more relief than tragedy.

That was when I knew I had to make some serious changes to save my own life. I said the three words that many people fear more than anything else: I need help.

I got on Lexapro. I started therapy. I told the truth. And slowly, I stopped trying to prove I was OK and started working toward actually being OK.

I quit two of my jobs, I moved out of the city, I renegotiated boundaries with my family over the business. Mostly though, I took ownership for my own path towards healing every day. It’s been almost five years since I first asked for help and I’m proud to say I’ve never been filled with more joy and love for life than I am now.

A strange badge of honor

If you’re a high-performing entrepreneur, chances are you’ve learned how to turn anxiety into fuel. You obsess over details, stay up late tweaking strategies and wake up already running through the day’s to-do list.

It works—until it doesn’t.

Eventually, the constant worry becomes your default setting. You start thinking of yourself as “an anxious person” instead of a person experiencing anxiety. It becomes a kind of identity. A strange badge of honor.

I used to think being stressed all the time was proof I was working hard enough. Turns out, it just meant I was burning out. If you tore the ligaments in your ankle, you’d go to physical therapy. You wouldn’t say, “Well, I guess I’m just someone who will always have a ruined ankle.” You’d rest, rehab and work to heal.

Your brain and nervous system deserve the same care. Recovery is not a fantasy. It’s work—but it is work worth doing.

That decision to ask for help didn’t just save my life—it saved my business. I started showing up clearer, calmer and more connected. I felt it. My team felt it. Clients felt it.

I also explored deeper work—like Internal Family Systems therapy and, eventually, ketamine-assisted therapy. That path isn’t for everyone, but it cracked open something powerful in me: the idea that I wasn’t broken. I had simply adapted to survive. You don’t need another AI tool if you’re running on fumes. The next great upgrade for your agency? How about a nervous system that isn’t constantly in fight-or-flight? Prioritizing mental health is strength-building in the ways that matter most—resilience, clarity, courage and self-awareness. Those are the real superpowers in this industry.

So, take the walk. Book the appointment. Make the call. Say the three words that can change everything: I need help.

You’ll be amazed at what happens when you start treating yourself like someone worth taking care of.

Because you are.