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Growing up as an adopted child, there is an underlying pressure to prove yourself. As a child, you may not fully appreciate the love you have, but instead focus on what you feel is missing. 

For me, this led to constantly pushing myself to achieve more than necessary. I started working full-time at 19, juggling long hours at the Sheriff's Department (6am-6pm) and attending classes all day. Despite enjoying the job and the people I worked with, I was unhappy. I was striving to impress those who didn't truly matter to me. 

The trap of comparison is real. I spent years measuring myself against people I didn't even aspire to be like. Social media can be both a blessing and a curse, as it can fuel feelings of inadequacy and envy. I have to limit my social media consumption to protect my mental health, as unintentional comparisons can still affect me. 

This post delves into a deep subject, as I open up about my struggles with mental health. Facing a miscarriage and a failed business, I felt like a failure. Overwhelmed by self-doubt, I withdrew from the world. It was a dark and frightening period, until a loving intervention from my family brought me back from the brink. 

It was the night before Thanksgiving and I was in my bed contemplating if I wanted to live. Pete called my sister and brother in law. I was furious with him. They were outside my bedroom door and I was just fuming that they were at my house. How could Pete do this to me? I didn't need anyone to know about my struggles. My sisters married brothers, Bryan and Greg. Bryan and Greg have been in my life since I was a little girl. They are both wonderful, and are like having two big brothers. Greg convinced me to go for a ride. I have never told him that ride saved my life that night or even thank you. I felt so seen and listened to. He wasn't there to judge me, he was just there to support me. Ah - a realization most people aren't there to judge you - it is in your head - and those that do should not be in your life. 

The following Thanksgiving with little Henry in my belly, surrounded by caring loved ones, I realized the importance of human connection in times of despair. That very night I went into the hospital with him, and he was born a day later (at 25 weeks). Henry is a miracle, and I owed it to him to truly work my shit out. 

Living with anxiety and depression, I have learned to prioritize my mental well-being through medication and self-care. There is no shame in seeking help, and doing what is right for you. 

Sharing my story, I hope to reach out to those who are struggling and let them know they are not alone. You are exactly where you need to be, surrounded by love and support.