TG Hopes

I am going to add my voice to the full and loud chorus discussing mental health awareness, hoping to end the stigma and shame of having a mental health diagnosis, and mourning the recent death of Robin Williams. I am not sure I have anything profound to share but writing is a catharsis for me and maybe something I say will resonate with someone out there. Maybe something will help.

I am a woman, middle-aged, a sister, a daughter, a niece, an aunt, and an incredibly thrilled mom. I am a best friend and a good teammate. I am pretty smart and fairly silly and quite passionate. I am beautiful. I am a lover of pink and read voraciously and think naps are God's gift. I am also diagnosed with major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety order and obesity. I am medicated - yes, THOSE medicines, I am a felon, I have used drugs and been a victim of domestic violence. I have had suicide ideations, a suicide plan, and have been hospitalized - yes, THAT hospital.

I am a survivor and have been thriving for a few years now - longer than at any other point in my life. I have worked very hard to get where I am and in no way deserve all the credit for this transformation; I am blessed with an excellent healthcare team including a really, really, really (yes, really) excellent therapist. They taught me how to stop spinning my wheels and start making changes. They worked with me to tweak my medications as one stopped working or another suddenly began making me vomit. They helped me create a safety net and a plan so that I wouldn't fall back into that black hole again. And they are there still when the road gets a little rocky or the sky a little stormy. 

And they taught me the importance of having all of this in place because the speed from which a person can go from well to suicidal is quicker than a hummingbird's wings. It happens subtly and quietly and lets you think you are just a little tired or work is creating a little more stress and before you know it, there is a huge abyss in front of you and if you aren't careful, you will free fall right into it.

I am incredibly lucky I never did fall. Lucky that the stars aligned and kept me safe. Lucky that no one had the audacity to call me selfish or a coward for feeling so very bad. I am lucky. And blessed. And oh so very grateful. Remember how hard it can be to ask for help, to even know you need help. Reach out to someone, offer a literal or figurative hand. Smile at other people, hold the door, toss your change into the collection plate or the cup in an outstretched hand. Flirt with babies and pet dogs and stop to smell the way your world smells just before it rains. And after that rain, look up... you might just see a rainbow. And if you do, point it out to someone. You may save a life.

Taken 8/12/14, at about 6:00 p.m. in Arlington, VA