By Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

September 24, 2024

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition ignited, and success achieved.” — Helen Keller

Today, I invite you to join me on a journey. The map I was given at birth was filled with detours, unexpected stops, fast-paced highways, and scenic routes, accompanied by plenty of bumps and flat tires. Through adaptation and countless obstacles, I navigated a less-traveled road—a highway leading to self-awareness and recovery. I want to pause a moment to express my heartfelt gratitude to each of you here today reading this. I know you have faced your own battles, and your presence signifies that you’ve found hope after being hurt and discovered the courage to keep showing up for yourselves. Thank you for allowing me the space to be vulnerable and share my story.

Before I dive into my successes, I must be honest about the struggles and losses I've faced—mostly at my own hands, but also at the hands of others. I am a survivor of complex trauma, navigating a world shaped by anxiety and depression. I received a late diagnosis of ADHD. For thirty years, I excelled at being what everyone else needed, so much so that I lost sight of who I was and what I truly wanted in life. I thought I had it all figured out, only to find myself in the ER at 18, convinced I was having a heart attack. The doctors told me my EKG results were immaculate. When I asked what it could mean, they casually dismissed it as “just a panic attack.” But how could that be? For years, I had expressed sympathy for those struggling with diagnoses, convinced that I was “fine.” My subconscious was screaming to be heard, and I simply ignored it. My college years became a whirlwind of chaos—fun, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and the persistent belief that I was okay.

Reflecting on the little girl born in June of 1990 is bittersweet. She faced challenges far beyond her years yet handled them with grace. Joyful, kind, confident, talkative, and emotionally mature, she saw the good in everyone, even in those who struggled to show it. I envy her resilience; she loved freely, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps I envy her because I am “her”—the same essence still resides within me. But I was naïve to the toll this ability to love could take on my bright spirit.

As years passed, friendships and romantic relationships flowed through cycles of joy, confusion, love, and heartache. I took a break from school to pursue promotions at work, where I felt valued and connected.

Becoming a mom was a beautiful chapter in my story. I thrived in that role, embracing the joys and challenges of motherhood in a new city. The love I felt for my son was unconditional, profound, and hard to articulate. Three and a half years later, I became pregnant with my second son, who also brought immense joy and tenderness into my life. Both my boys enriched my existence, and their uniqueness taught me how to love two individuals exactly as they were meant to be.

Despite the chaos, I cherish being a mother. Yet motherhood can be overwhelming—there are countless tasks to juggle, financial stresses, and the constant responsibility of ensuring another’s safety. While it brings an abundance of love, it also magnifies feelings of inadequacy. I was terrified of letting my boys down, leading me to second-guess myself repeatedly. My untreated anxiety intensified, occasionally spiraling into depression. Eventually, I found myself waking up and merely going through the motions. A neck injury compounded my sense of being lost, but counseling became a vital lifeline, providing me with a space to be heard.

When we moved to Montana, a place steeped in cherished childhood memories, my dreams began to take shape. I found a new flicker of hope, returning to work while my boys started school. But then I faced another challenge: my youngest’s regression with Autism. He lost his language and many of the abilities I had treasured. I mourned the child I once knew while stepping up to be the mother he needed.

I resumed counseling, and after two years of revisiting the same struggles, my therapist delivered a powerful revelation: “If you’re unhappy with your life, you have two choices. You can completely change how your life looks, or you need to find better solutions to feel comfortable in your current situation.” It was an awakening moment.

Four years ago, I grew weary of my narrative and finally admitted the truth: I was the only one who could change my life. I learned to listen to my inner voice and advocate for myself. EMDR therapy became transformative, helping me reclaim my life. Today, my boys are thriving. I’ve met a wonderful partner who loves me for who I am. I’ve embraced the role of being a bonus to a beautiful little girl. I am passionate about my work and a fierce advocate for others. My experiences have granted me the ability to meet people where they are, recognizing that the fundamental human need is connection. With even a glimmer of hope, beautiful transformations can occur.

Now, I stand proud of the person I see in the mirror. When I need a reminder, the little girl within me whispers that I am joyful, kind, confident, talkative, curious, and emotionally mature. I understand how the world works, and I strive to treat even the unloving with compassion. We are all born good, and we are all doing our best.

by Erin Faulkner, Family Peer Supporter

October 11, 2023

As a child, I viewed my mother’s depression in very simplistic terms.  She was moody, unreasonable, inconsistent and easily irritated. As I look back and “psychoanalyze”, I look at her depression as more of an empty hole.  My mother did an amazing job at giving us great life experiences and adventures and a happy life.  We went on vacations almost yearly.  As a single mom, she couldn’t afford big trips by plane, so it was car trips.  We went to Wisconsin to visit family, California to go to Disneyland, Calgary and Edmonton and the Black Hills for an annual reunion with the Wisconsin family.  Home was filled with laughter during game nights and movie nights.  In addition to giving us these experiences, I wonder if these things filled the hole, so that she wasn’t left feeling empty. 

As I got older, I learned more about my mother’s childhood from her and her sister.  My mother was the third and final child.  Her sisters were 6 and 9 years older than her.  She was an accident, unwanted.  When she was 11, my mother’s mother passed away from a long battle with cancer.  She was then raised by an absent father, a critical older sister and eventually a step-mother who didn’t want to share her new husband. 

I don’t think we’ll ever know if she would have suffered from depression without this childhood trauma, but it certainly contributed to it.  I am amazed that my mother was able to find the strength to give us the love that she often didn’t feel. 

Once we were growing up and leaving home, my mother prepared to fill the loneliness by adopting 4 children.  Let me be clear.  She didn’t just fill her emptiness.  She provided my brothers and sisters with the same great life we had.  It is important for my mother to keep her mind occupied and stay involved in activities.  Her Catholic faith is very important to her, and she is involved heavily in her church.  She is currently taking online classes related to health, keeping that hole filled.

My mother took anti-depressants for as long as I can remember.  She also has seen, and still sees, a counselor at different periods in her life.  About 15 years ago, my mother suffered a traumatic brain injury from a fall on ice.  This compounded her already compromised coping skills.  She turned to alcohol for a period of time.  About 6 years ago, she stopped cold turkey just as she has stopped smoking almost 40 years before. 

My mother has passed on her strength, love and resiliency to her children.  I had a short bout with situational depression in my early 20’s.  Looking back, I think the root cause was my recent diagnosis of a connective tissue disorder and the fear of what my future would look like.  Would I be blind, deaf, disabled?  Once I accepted my possible future and realized that I could control some things, I was able to move on and be happy.  I’m not always happy, but I am not numb to life.  That is the beauty of feelings!

Finally, my daughter, who is now 21, started experiencing anxiety at a young age.  Her anxiety increased when she went away to college.  The anxiety then turned to depression.  Sam was a Covid year graduate, which meant that her first few years of college were not normal.  All of the wonderful things that were supposed to happen, didn’t.  She felt that there was nothing to look forward to. She didn’t find enjoyment in anything.  As a mom, this was heartbreaking.  We cried many tears, mine usually fell after we got off the phone.  Medications were prescribed, but none of them were right.  Counseling during her second year of college provided her with many tools and helped her evaluate herself and her life. In the end, it was the anxiety that she needed to get a handle on.   Sam is now a happy, well-adjusted, but “over it" Senior getting ready to embark on her next adventure this summer. 

These are three different stories of how depression has affected my life.  They are all valid.  They are all life-impacting.  They are all success stories.

by Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

May 23, 2023

Mental Health Awareness month, what a beautiful way to bring awareness to a very important topic. Growing up I considered mental health to be very extreme mental health disorders. For example, depression/suicide, substance abuse/addiction, or diagnosis/personality disorders. Also, feeling statements that were commonly heard and used were simply happy, mad, and sad. Mental health is so much more complex than the ones I listed. I now believe those are the extremes, because mental health hasn’t/hadn’t ever been addressed. Navigating something within ourselves, without the knowledge and words, leads to a recipe for disaster.

When I went off to college, I would randomly have these very intense panic attacks. My heart would start racing, I would shake, I became flighty, and my thoughts were very reactive and panicked. They consumed my entire body and brain when they happened. One of the scariest feelings I have ever experienced. I basically felt as if I was going to die each time. I did go to a primary care visit after being in urgent care, started a medication, hated how I felt even more, and quit taking them. When I became a mom, anxiety was just something I regularly felt. It still was untreated until I had my second son. I basically buried the skeletons of my trauma way down deep inside. And when you do that, your body doesn’t forget. It makes you “deal” with it in other forms. Hence, my panic attacks and anxiety.

I have later in life been diagnosed with anxiety, ADHD, and C-PTSD. I have been in talk therapy since 2017 and recently started the process of EMDR therapy. After my ADHD diagnosis, and I started a treatment of care, my anxiety and depression subsided. I still feel it at times, but it isn’t an everyday feeling I have. And while I knew I am a survivor of childhood and adult trauma, I still felt like I didn’t have it that bad. Once I got my C-PTSD diagnosis, I felt more validated in my emotions and experiences than ever. Silly how a word can do that for us, huh?

I share my story today in hopes that it can reach one person that has experienced any of these symptoms and is still searching for answers. I am not an expert on mental health in any shape or form, but I am an expert on my experiences, how I felt, and the things I would have changed. Today I can say, I am extremely proud of my progress and strength. I have done the work, will continue to, and I show up for myself because I deserve to live in the present. I hope you know that you can too. Slowly I am putting an end to the cycles and defense mechanisms I picked up along the way to survive. Forgiving people, I never thought I could, and acknowledge the parts I have played in my own trauma. I am learning to trust myself again and to feel strength in what I say and believe. I can say, now I love the person I see in the mirror, and I will never let her down again. I’m worth it.

If you are struggling even in the slightest, I encourage you to reach out to someone you trust. I know it isn’t easy, but I promise you, untreated mental health is far worse in the long wrong. Because, in my opinion, when your brain is “sick”, your physical health will be affected detrimentally. Admitting that you aren’t ok is heroic in my book. You are worth it.