Tag Archives: hope


*Disclaimer: This post is not meant to represent the experience or feelings of anyone but myself. I recognize that crawling out of depression and Trump being president are not universally analogous, nor is the comparison relevant to most people out there, especially the people most potentially threatened by his presidency. This is simply a personal, self-indulgent journaling of how I am processing my emotions and looking to stay positive and make sense of things in a time that is overwhelmingly challenging to do so. But mostly, it’s just an ode to a dear friend.


Today I received this email from a dear friend…


Nine years ago, this same friend came to visit me in my darkest hour. I was living with my parents in Maryland, in the midst of an extremely serious depressive episode. I had left my job and my life in Philadelphia. I was literally sleeping in my parents’ bed, between them, too afraid to be alone with my thoughts. Despair was eating my insides. I couldn’t function, couldn’t eat, could barely breathe. Dressing myself was a challenge. I had lost any semblance of the life I had known and loved, and I saw absolutely no path to getting it back.

And then this friend came in from NY to visit. He dragged me into DC and forced me on a tour of our nation’s capital. And as we sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he promised me hope.

I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t see how that was possible. I couldn’t see past the very moment I was trapped in. I couldn’t imagine how I’d ever be able to function again, how I’d ever be able to take a breath that didn’t feel shallow. I couldn’t imagine ever holding a job. I couldn’t imagine being able to connect with anyone, on any level, ever again. If I couldn’t even imagine these simplest of human tasks, the idea of ever living a fulfilling, productive life seemed completely out of my reach. I wanted to die.

But this friend insisted on hope. He insisted that progress doesn’t happen in a straight line– but that eventually, we always move forward. He promised me I’d not only get my life back, but this painful experience would, in time, lead to an even better, more connected life than the one I had before.

I protested. He protested back. Eventually, too bone-tired and sad to argue, I nodded. My heart wanted to believe him but my mind told me he was full of shit.

Shortly after his visit, life began to change. It wasn’t instant and it wasn’t easy. It took work. It took a LOT of support from those around me. It took a damn village. It took faith. It took forcing myself into action. It took constantly reminding myself that no matter the setback, everything was going to be ok.

Today I not only function, I thrive. Today I not only breathe, I breathe deeply. Today I not only work, I have my own business. Today I not only connect, I get to marry and share my life with the most incredible man I’ve ever known.

My friend was right. My life is better today than the life I was living before my darkest hour. Not only because I survived the despair, but because I learned from it. It opened my eyes. It gave me perspective. It made me more empathetic. It deepened my connections with others. It inspired me to give back. It forced me to speak out. It sprung me into action, and inspired me to work on myself and stand up for others every chance I get. It made me realize that I have to cherish, appreciate, and look for the good if I want to ensure that darkness will never win in the end.

So thank you, friend. I needed this reminder of hope today. And not because there aren’t other messages of hope out there. There certainly are, thank god.

But you are a source I can trust.

Social Media and the Suicide of Madison Holleran


Tragic, touching, and so SO important. Madison Holleran’s story reminds me of the importance of keeping it honest on social media. Yes, it’s tempting to post that life is fabulous (and it certainly can be at times) or to filter every photo (not that I’m ever going to stop that entirely), but let’s mix it up with a dose of reality as well.

That’s the true goal of this blog– sure, I like to entertain, but I mostly want to show that life is often hard, wholly imperfect, awkward, uncomfortable, and at times we’re going to feel terrible things and have dark, unsettling thoughts. And that’s ok. We’re all in this together. Humor and written expression is my outlet and defense against the demons, and if one person out there reads about my dips into depression, my irrational anxieties, my occasional struggles to get out of bed, my moments of discomfort in my own skin, and for even one second feels a little less alone or a little brighter about their own struggle, then my work here is done.

I wish Madison had had some more imperfect Instagram feeds to scroll through. Maybe then she would have known she’s not the only one.

Changing the Conversation About Mental Health

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Incredible organization, incredible woman. Saving lives every day. I am so grateful to be involved with this cause and to call Alison a friend. Active Minds helped save me, and I am thrilled to see that the organization is getting the recognition and exposure it deserves for the incredible work they do.

Alison started this organization on her own, working out of her childhood bedroom to honor the life of her brother, Brian. Since then, Active Minds has grown and spread throughout the nation, bringing awareness to the mental health cause and providing resources and help for those who suffer.

And now a PSA airing on CBS!!! One more giant step towards #changingtheconversation about mental health. AWESOME STUFF!


The PERFECT Time and Place, In Fact

While most reviews have been positive, I have read an overwhelming amount of critical commentary regarding Graham Moore’s Oscar acceptance speech, most saying that while it’s wonderful that he survived a suicide attempt and is now thriving, the Oscars stage was not the right time or place to talk about it.

Why? Because the whole world was listening?

Kudos to you, Graham Moore. There’s never a wrong time or place to fight stigma, celebrate strength, and instill hope.

I promise to stay weird. For you, for me, and for all the others out there who have seen the dark side.

Watch the speech here, in case you missed it.