by Kayla Myers, Peer Support coordinator

June 24, 2025

I’m a mom of boys, loud, messy, hilarious, curious, deep-feeling boys.

And if I’m honest, one of my greatest hopes, besides them eventually learning to do their laundry and clean up after themselves, is that they grow into men who feel safe being whole. Not just strong or stoic or successful. But soft when they need to be. Honest. Vulnerable. Supported.

Because here’s the truth, one I’ve heard from every mom of boys and quietly carried myself: the world still struggles to let our sons be fully human.

We tell our kids, “It’s okay to cry,” but somewhere between kindergarten and manhood, that message gets lost. Replaced by phrases like “man up,” “don’t be soft,” and “real men don’t talk about their feelings.” And those words don’t just bounce off; they sink in. They settle deep.

As moms, we see their hearts before the world tells them to hide them. We see the quiet anxiety before the tough-guy mask forms. We know the pressure they carry in silence, the self-doubt buried behind humor, the frustration when they don’t have the words to explain what’s going on inside.

June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. And if it reminds me of anything, it’s this:

We don’t just need to raise good men.
We need to raise whole men.

Men who know it's okay to ask for help.
Men who’ve had practice expressing what they feel.
Men who’ve seen someone care about what’s happening beneath the surface.

Here’s what I’m doing, or I should say, what I’m trying, daily:

• I ask them how they’re feeling, and I try not to rush past the silence.
• I talk about therapy like it’s normal, because it is.
• I praise emotional honesty just as much as achievements.
• I work on asking for help myself, because they’re always watching.

In my eyes, no boy should grow up believing his feelings make him weak.

So, whether you're a parent, an aunt, a coach, a teacher, or a friend, be part of the voice that says:

You don’t have to pretend you're okay when you’re not.
You’re not less of a man for needing support.
You’re more of one for knowing when to reach out.

To my sons, and all the boys growing into men:
Your mind matters.
Your emotions matter.
You matter.

Let’s raise them to believe it.

(Edited and Enhanced with ChatGPT)

Generated with AI and edited by Lea Wetzel, Family Peer Supporter

April 2, 2024

Daily, we often encounter numerous choices that directly or indirectly affect our health. From the food we eat to the products we use, our decisions as consumers can significantly impact not only our well-being but also the health of our communities, states, and nations. Understanding the importance of public health awareness is paramount in making informed choices that promote healthier lifestyles and contribute to the overall well-being of society.

At the grassroots level, community health is the foundation of public well-being. Being aware of public health issues within our communities allows us to identify local health challenges and take proactive measures to address them. Whether it's advocating for cleaner air, supporting local health initiatives, or participating in community health programs, consumers play a crucial role in shaping the health landscape of their neighborhoods.

By staying informed about local health resources, such as clinics, vaccination drives, and support groups, consumers can access the necessary services and support to maintain their health. Additionally, being aware of community health risks, such as outbreaks of infectious diseases or environmental hazards, empowers individuals to take preventive actions to safeguard themselves and their families.

Public health awareness at the state level extends beyond individual communities to address broader health issues that affect entire populations. State governments play a pivotal role in implementing public health policies, regulating healthcare practices, and allocating resources for disease prevention and health promotion programs.

As consumers, being cognizant of state-level health policies enables us to advocate for policies that prioritize public health and ensure equitable access to healthcare services. Whether it's supporting legislation to improve healthcare affordability, advocating for nutrition standards in schools, or promoting initiatives to combat substance abuse, consumer awareness and engagement are essential for driving positive health outcomes at the state level.

On a national scale, public health awareness becomes even more critical as it influences healthcare policies, resource allocation, and response to public health emergencies. National health challenges, such as epidemics, chronic diseases, and healthcare disparities, require coordinated efforts from policymakers, healthcare providers, and consumers to address effectively.

By staying informed about national health issues, consumers can actively participate in public health advocacy, support evidence-based interventions, and hold policymakers accountable for addressing pressing health concerns. Whether it's raising awareness about mental health stigma, advocating for healthcare reform, or supporting research on emerging health threats, consumer engagement at the national level is vital for shaping a healthier future for all.

In conclusion, public health awareness is not just a personal responsibility but a collective obligation that transcends individual interests to promote the common good. By being aware of public health issues at the community, state, and national levels, consumers can make informed choices, advocate for healthier environments, and contribute to the creation of a society where everyone has the opportunity to thrive. As stewards of our health and the health of our communities, let us prioritize public health awareness and work together to build a healthier and more resilient future for generations to come.

by Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead
March 19, 2024

Recovery or resiliency stories are powerful and important. They do a few things: 1. Connect us to the peers we are working with, 2. Give value to the unique perspective our lived experience brings to the table, 3. Show the importance and effectiveness of peer support. According to Montana’s Peer Network’s Peer Support Training, our recovery or resiliency story is “at the heart of the work we do in peer support. It is important that, as peer supporters, we understand our own process of recovery or resiliency. We need to be comfortable enough to speak about our own journey with others. Being able to describe our experience in a concise and hopeful manner is important. We want to tell our recovery [and resiliency] journey in a way that will inspire or provide a sense of hope to those still struggling.” A recovery or resiliency story “lets those you work with know you really do understand how difficult it can be. And how to overcome challenges. This is your greatest strength as a peer supporter.” Whether we are Behavioral Health Peer Supporters or Family Peer Supporters, it is important to share our story with a peer as it relates to them. They are the focus. Sharing our story is a useful tool to build connection and engage with your peer.

Here is my story.

I grew up in a home with hidden but active addiction where problems were only problems if you talked about them. Outside help was unwelcomed and unneeded. For as long as I can remember I was unhappy and was told I had no reason to be. When I felt sad or empty or hurting, I was constantly being told:

• It’s not that big of a deal
• It’s nothing to get so upset about
• You have a good life, what’s there to be sad about
• Stop overreacting, it’s not that bad
• You have so much to be grateful for

And so, I tried everything to feel better, to feel happy, to feel whole. I was always searching. As a kid, I tried perfectionism, people pleasing, straight A’s, popularity. In high school it was smoking, drinking, shoplifting, skipping school, partying, relationships, drugs, reckless behavior, cutting. When I had kids and a family I went with the more socially acceptable ones: control, blame, anger, comparison, back to perfectionism, being the best, doing it all, drinking wine, checking out. I reasoned that if I just did everything right, I would feel better. As I parent, I thought if I did everything right my kids would be okay. And through it all, I felt so alone, surrounded caring, loving people who just didn’t get it. I continuously reached out but didn’t have the vocabulary to describe what was going on in me or how I was feeling.

I remember sitting in my pastor’s office, at the age of 30. I was overwhelmed. I was irritable. I was tired. I wanted to leave my family. I was so angry. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was done. I was meeting with her to figure out how to feel better. What I could do. What I was missing. Thankfully she recognized the symptoms and said it sounded like depression and referred me to my doctor. And now I had a word to describe it. I started medication. Now I didn’t have to try so hard to just live. Finally, I was starting on level ground. I went to support groups. Here were people who put words to my feelings, who spoke my language, who told my story, who shared my experiences. And now I wasn’t alone. I had people who had been there, had done that, and who had a different way to live and were willing to share it all with me.

As my children grew, they began struggling with their mental health. I was thrown into a world I knew nothing about. I didn’t know what decisions to make or even what questions to be asking. I felt helpless and alone. I felt judged as a parent. I always felt one step behind and would say to myself, “I wish I knew then what I know now.” I hated feeling like I was trying harder than anyone else and I hated the thought of my children struggling. I often felt that all was hopeless. Advocating for my children was a full-time job. There were multiple appointments weekly and constant dealings with the school. My child was unwell, my family was unwell, and I was unwell. I was focusing all my time and energy on their wellness and their treatment and their needs. So much so that I didn’t even realize how it was affecting me. Again, I went to support groups and found rooms full of parents that knew exactly what I was going through. Who I could cry with and laugh with. Who accepted me and supported me as I was. Who shared with me their stories and their tools. I found individual and family therapy helpful. I also began exercising, which gave me a routine and stability and a way to focus on something other than what was happening at home.

Now, as a peer supporter, I bring my unique lived experience to the table. I get to be for my peer what I wished I had had. I help the peer find vocabulary to explain what they are feeling and experiencing. I help them navigate unfamiliar systems with unfamiliar language. I offer emotional support from someone who understands, who has walked in their shoes. I give hope. Recovery is possible, for us and those we love. We can be resilient. I am living well, and they can too. I bring mutuality with no judgement. Instead of outside looking in, I am inside with them looking out. In my experience, the professionals help me, the peer gets me. As peer supporters, we get to help others find wellness, recovery, and wholeness.

by Bill Deavel, Peer Support Coordinator

April 4, 2023

What an amazing subject to talk about. This will be my first time getting share with you on the topic of forgiveness. I would like to start off with saying if recovery is possible, so is forgiveness. I believe that it is hard to have one without the other. As I was growing up I had examples of forgiveness in my life. My parent and grandparents modeled forgiveness to me as I was growing up in a variety of ways. As a child I based forgiveness on if it benefited me, I applied forgiveness somewhat selfishly. I would forgive, if you did or I got what I wanted. You see there were conditions on my forgiveness.

As I became a teenager forgiveness for me became something that I wanted to extend, however there was fear attached to it. Am I going to get treated the same way? When I was twelve years old, I was going to a private school. Let’s qualify my behaviors at this time. I was full of energy, I had some learning disabilities and some mental health diagnosis so I wasn’t the best behaved student in the class. I would get sent to the principals’ office once a week. The principal most likely was doing the best he could with the skills that he had to try and correct my behaviors. I can remember getting paddled by the principal and having no bad felling about that interaction. The interaction that I did have with him that affected me was all verbal. I carried those words he spoke to me into my adult life. I still have a hard time thinking of that period of time. He HURT me emotionally and spiritually. I will not forget the emotions that I was unprepared to have, that I didn’t understand how to process. I was scared of the thoughts that I was having, knowing that my thoughts were not what I would normally be thinking. I wanted to hurt him back and what I was thinking was wrong and I knew that. Anger, resentment around that situation only got worse until my parent took me out of that private school. Remember I am twelve years old. Forgiveness on that situation didn’t happen until I was in my forties. Forgiveness for me has been a process of understanding who I am and understanding that I have a part in things. As I share this example with you I wonder - have I forgiven, this is the work we do when we are in recovery.

Today I have a healthier way of dealing with forgiveness. While working on my recovery I had to learn to forgive myself. I think the hardest thing that I had to forgive myself for was abandoning my three children. I still work on this today. Forgiving myself for the decisions that I made in my life has been a process. There are times in my recovery where things come up and I have taken things back and I am punishing myself for past mistakes. When I recognize those times I choose to forgive myself for those things and I move forward. It is a process for me.

Forgiving others has been a learning experience. When working through some of my trauma I had to come to terms with the idea that just because I forgive someone doesn’t mean that they get to be a part of my life. I struggled with that for a period of time. My thinking was if I forgave, the slate was wiped clean and I had to accept that person back in my life. I had to learn that I could forgive and that I had the option of not giving that person the opportunity to ever hurt me again. I learned how to set a boundary.

As my recovery continues to grow, forgiveness for myself and other is good medicine. Forgiveness can be difficult to extend. My experience with forgiveness is that it can heal the soul. I am fortunate to have a support system in place that can help with the process of forgiveness. This article that I am sharing with you has been healing for me. Thank you for letting me share this with you.

by Beth Ayers Family Peer Support Lead

April 4, 2023

The hardest person I’ve had to forgive is myself.

I was ill-prepared for taking care of a child with behavioral health challenges. I didn’t understand mental illness and neurodiversity. I hadn’t heard of trauma-informed care. I had little tools in my parenting toolbox. I parented a lot of the time from a place of fear, control, embarrassment, fatigue, and ignorance. I also parented out of a deep and all-consuming love. Unfortunately, often times my love involved fixing and overprotecting, and could lack compassion and empathy. I just wanted to be the best parent I could be. And I wanted my child to be happy and healthy. But I didn’t know how.

The first major decision my husband and I had to make involving psychiatric and medical care for our child came when we found evidence of self-harm. We called a trusted counselor who suggested going to the emergency room for an evaluation. Once there, I questioned everything. Was this the right decision? What if they discharged us and our child began self-harming again? What if they admitted our child? Were we making too big of a deal out of this? Were we damaging our child more? Side note: If we had taken our child to the emergency room for a possible broken arm, I would not have once questioned if I was doing damage to my child. We were unfamiliar with the process and spent a lot of time waiting for someone to come and talk to us. I didn’t understand what was going on. Either because nobody told me or because I was too upset to process what the hospital staff were saying. Probably, a little of both. In my experience, if I didn’t ask the right questions, which I didn’t know what the right questions were, I did not receive clear explanations or the knowledge I needed. The professionals talked to me like I knew the processes and procedures of the hospital. They used words I didn’t understand or know the meaning of. Making decisions for our child’s care was hard in the moment. There was no manual handed to us at the door that I could refer to. No decision tree or flow chart that showed where each possible choice would lead to. There were no guaranteed outcomes. We hadn’t taken our child to the emergency room before. We had no experience in any of this! And yet we were responsible for making decisions. I heard it said that, “Experience is something you get after you need it.”

Since then, my husband and I and our child have made numerous decisions regarding psychiatric and medical care for our child. This has included decisions regarding schooling, treatment, medications, hospitalizations, psychiatrists, therapists, discipline, and boundaries. We sought education on mental health and specific diagnoses. We participated in family counseling and support groups. Through it all, I mistakenly believed that if I made the “right” decisions my child would find health and happiness. Health and happiness the world defined for me through social media and “normal” life paths. Success the school defined for me by grades and achievements. Good parenting stigma defined for me as obedient children and good outcomes. With this perspective, my only conclusion had to be that I was not a good parent who had done it all wrong.

There is no room for forgiveness in judgement and perfectionism. There is no healing in blame and shame. I have come to realize that I made good decisions and bad decisions, loving decisions and decisions made out of frustration, decisions I am sure about and a lot I am still unsure about. I will continue to make decisions that only time will tell the effects of. I have come to understand that mental illnesses are physical illnesses and should be treated the same. I know that I have made decisions that have hurt and a lot that have helped. It is easier for me to forgive others and their choices than it is for me to forgive myself and my choices. It is easier to forgive the effects mental illness has had on our family than it is to forgive myself for the effects I have had. Forgiving myself is a process of knowing better so I can do better, accepting I am imperfect and human, loving and valuing myself flaws and all, apologizing to those I have harmed, and being gentle with myself. I have found healing and joy in forgiveness, especially forgiving myself.