Today I choose vulnerability as my super power.

I’ve been thinking about mental health a lot lately. My heart has been hurting knowing so many people are struggling and seeing all the recent articles of suicide, makes the pain sharper, closer to home. To think of those living with so much pain, loneliness, fear and shame that death became their escape from it all. I know that feeling-  of wanting to simply slip away, to end it, to not have to face the struggle any more. To give up. To enter the endless blackness of nothingness. The thought of it sounded like a sweet relief from the box I was in. I remember that night, drunken tears rolling down my face as I held the temptation in my hands, the cold barrel of my rifle. As I ran towards the front door of the small cabin, my rifle gripped in my hands, I thought to myself, I don’t really want to do this, do I? I knew instantly that death was not something I wanted, yet I felt like this was the only way to get my partner to understand just how much I needed someone to, just listen to me. It was a cry for help, but nobody was listening. This relationship was filled with alcohol, fights and endless triggers that kept us on the hamster wheel of toxic behaviors. There was no safe space to express my feelings without him pointing the fingers back at me. It was exhausting. I recognize it wasn’t all his fault, and I don't mean to point fingers towards him. We were living in a small off grid cabin, I didn’t have any solid friendships outside of my “work friends” and the loneliness was settling deep in my bones. Leaving Colorado for Montana, I  jumped from one relationship to another, losing myself in the whirlwind of “needing someone.”  I remember telling him, “without you I have no one.” The thought of being alone was so terrifying, that I held onto the one thing that was pushing me further into my darkness. During this time I also had no relationship with my family, and I told myself, “what would I lose if I just pulled that trigger, it’s not like anyone cares?” 

Let’s step back in time for some context- Having been sexually abused by a brother and living in a cult built on fear and forgiveness at the bat of an eye, I held onto my secret for 15 years. Not feeling connected with the Lestadian Lutheran Congregation, I left and in doing so I lost my entire community. The people I sat next to in church no longer invited me into their homes and would avoid me like the plague if they saw me in public. From here I embarked on a journey of self sabotage until another drunken night, when I fell to the ground, my fist hitting the grass underneath me while screams escaped my trembling lips. I had officially hit rock bottom. From there I started therapy and escaped to wild places as often as I could. I traded the booze for evening hikes and the late nights at the bar for the quiet starfilled nights on the mountain. My therapist encouraged me to write, telling me “we only feel our emotions for a very short while, it's how we react to them when things get messy.” So, I bought myself a journal and each day I would write about my day. I would write about my emotions that came up, and bit by bit I was starting to understand that emotions are a good thing. They tell us what we need to know, but only if we listen. A year or so later I went through a very powerful journey of emdr therapy ( Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing) a structured psychotherapy designed to help people heal from trauma and ptsd. This process helped my brain unlock and safely reprocess painful experiences so they lose their intense emotional charge. Throughout my healing journey I told my story to anyone who would listen. My trauma no longer defined me but it gave me purpose to become a healthier version of myself and to let others know they are not alone. I want to keep being that person and so I am writing this and sharing it with you. 

Today I choose vulnerability as my super power.  

For those of you who have read my book, What’s Her Wild, an Untold Story, you know my journey leading up to this point I am writing about now. Being a recent published author of a inspiring self-memoir, made telling my story about suicidal idealtion, even harder. I told myself that if I shared this with the world, they would see me as a fraud. I sure felt like one.  Perhaps that shame and fear of being vulnerable kept my lips sealed, but more so I believe I needed to let myself heal first. The toxic relationship ended and soon my shame started to shed from my skin. Those quiet evenings alone allowed me the space to process past events and change my behaviors that ultimately put me in those past situations. I started working out consistently, eating clean food and I spent as many daylight hours as I could outdoors. It turns out being alone was exactly what I needed to continue my healing.  A space of my own to forgive myself of my past actions, to take the lessons from that difficult chapter and apply them to a healthier one. There I was, in beautiful paradise valley Montana where I knew nobody. A perfect opportunity to start over. 

If you are reading this and you understand the heaviness I am talking about - you are not alone. I am no longer ashamed, and I am here to help you carry the weight, to give your chest a chance to stand tall so you have the strength to face whatever the day may bring you. The hardest part about what you're going through is, you believe nobody is there for you, but you are wrong. I am here, and so are so many others who have faced struggles. For those of you reading, let this be our reminder to reach out to your friends and family you haven’t heard from in a while, to just say hi, and ask them how they are really doing.  I am just one person in this world sharing my story, just imagine all the others struggling. They need us. To speak our truth. To help pave the way for them, in hopes they too will walk the path of healing and purpose.