Tag: Depression

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The Hope Dealer: 5 Life-Changing Lessons from Fausto Castellanos on Trauma and Recovery

The journey to healing is rarely a straight line. For Fausto Castellanos, a clinical counselor and recovery advocate known as “The Hope Dealer,” it was a long and winding road filled with pain, self-blame, and a desperate search for validation. His story, shared on the Recoverycast podcast, is a powerful testament to the idea that our most difficult experiences don’t have to define our future. Instead, they can become the very foundation of our purpose.

From a young age, Castellanos felt a deep sense of unease and a need to be accepted. He recalled, “I always thought that I was less than everyone, so I would always look at like, you know, any older boy for like, um, validation or or direction.” This feeling, rooted in a childhood environment with a narcissistic father and a codependent mother, led him to constantly seek external validation. He would imitate others, chasing a “performance self-worth” that would momentarily mask his internal struggles. This desperate need for acceptance would ultimately lead him down a path of self-destructive behaviors, a journey he now uses to help others find their way back to a place of hope and healing.

1. The Mask of Performance and the Search for Validation

Growing up, Fausto Castellanos learned to be a “chameleon,” constantly adapting his personality to fit in and be liked. This behavior was a direct result of a traumatic experience at age seven, where he was sexually abused by an older boy. He didn’t process it as abuse at the time, but as a young child, he internalized the subsequent cruelty from his abuser as a sign that he had done something wrong. This trauma, combined with an already anxious disposition, led to a deep-seated belief that something was inherently wrong with him.

In a desperate attempt to fix this perceived brokenness, he began to seek out risky behaviors. “That show Jackass came out… and I was like, that’s what I gotta do to fix this. Oh my gosh. I gotta jump off buildings. Just doing all these dares and stuff like that. And again, just trying to seek that, that, that, that, um, my fix validation.” His actions were a cry for help, a way to prove his worth and distract himself from the gnawing pain inside. This pattern of seeking validation through extreme and self-sabotaging acts would continue for years, culminating in a series of shocking events.

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2. A Desperate Attempt to Escape: Faking His Own Death

By ninth grade, the pressure of his internal turmoil became unbearable. Castellanos found a new way to cope: skipping school. He would feign illness, often using a history of epilepsy from a childhood concussion to manipulate his mother into letting him stay home. This temporary escape, however, was not enough. He was still haunted by the fear that everyone at school knew his secret. It was at this point that he came up with a “bright idea to fake my own death.”

Using his skills in videography, he created a video of a car crash he found online, superimposed a childhood picture of himself, and added emotional music from the band Incubus. The plan, however, was a disaster. “People show up to my house to give my mom condolences and they see I’m, I’m the one opening the door.” The failed attempt at faking his death led to even more desperate measures.

In a misguided attempt to get more time off from school, he told his teacher he was “hearing voices to hurt people.” This lie backfired spectacularly, leading to a 5150 hold—a mandatory 72-hour psychiatric detention in San Diego. His stay was extended to seven days after he resisted the diagnosis, and he was forced to “pretend I was schizophrenic” just to get out. The experience, while terrifying, became another twisted form of validation. He felt a strange sense of belonging, a feeling of being seen, even if it was for a fabricated identity. This desire to be seen, no matter the cost, became a driving force in his life.

3. Finding “Comfort” in Alcohol and Drugs

After his release from the psychiatric hospital, Castellanos was granted his wish to do home studies. He was safe, alone, and free from the social pressures of school. But without a structured environment, his pursuit of external validation found a new and dangerous outlet: alcohol and drugs. At 14, he and a friend stole a bottle of whiskey. The first time the alcohol’s buzz kicked in, he had a revelation. “It was the first time in my life I can remember feeling comfortable. Feeling connected, feeling grounded, feeling seen, feeling safe.”

For a young man who had been battling anxiety and suicidal thoughts for years, alcohol was not a poison but a perceived cure. He came to believe that if he hadn’t found alcohol and drugs, he “would’ve killed myself a long time ago.” This belief became the foundation of a life of addiction. He transitioned from alcohol to ecstasy, a drug he had manifested after seeing a YouTube video of people dancing at a rave. He quickly developed a connection to a dealer, a neighbor who would later molest him for six months. This second traumatic experience, made all the more confusing by the disinhibiting effects of methamphetamines, reinforced his belief that his own actions were to blame.

4. The Vicious Cycle of Addiction, Breakups, and Despair

From the ages of 14 to 18, Castellanos’s life was a cycle of avoidance and self-destruction. He became the “party guy,” a role that gave him a false sense of purpose and belonging. “I played that character and I played that character really well.” He was the one who could get alcohol and drugs, the one with the “cool mom” who would let everyone stay over. This performance, however, couldn’t mask his growing addiction. He experienced blackouts, fights, and near-misses with the law. His underlying trauma continued to haunt him, and he continued to seek external validation, especially through romantic relationships.

At 17, he fell in love, convinced that this relationship would “fix” him. But his codependent nature led to a devastating overdose on 17 ecstasy pills after a party. He woke up in the hospital, handcuffed to a bed, his face bloody from a fall. Even in this moment of crisis, his first thought was to manipulate his way out of trouble, blaming the police for his injuries and demanding pain pills. Less than 24 hours after leaving the hospital, he overdosed again.

This pattern of using relationships as a crutch and self-destruction as a coping mechanism continued into his early twenties. He sought refuge in a high-profile bartending job, a role that fed his need for attention and validation. Yet, even as the “it dude,” his addiction spiraled out of control. Another failed relationship at 21 sent him to his rock bottom, a suicide attempt. It was this moment that forced him to confront the truth: his past trauma was still controlling his present, and his addiction was only making things worse.

5. The Path to Recovery and a New Purpose

Fausto Castellanos’s story is a powerful reminder that the desire to heal must come from within. While external sources of validation, like relationships or social status, may offer temporary relief, they cannot solve the underlying issues of trauma and self-worth. His journey highlights the importance of vulnerability in recovery, a theme he emphasizes throughout the podcast. “Vulnerability will save your life to know that there is people out there that are going through what you’re going through, and there is people who are willing to help you. You just gotta let people know what’s going on inside of you, because if you don’t reveal it, then you can’t heal it.”

His story, once a source of shame, has become a tool for advocacy. By sharing his experiences, he gives others permission to be vulnerable and seek help. His work as a clinical counselor and “hope dealer” is a testament to the power of turning pain into purpose. He now uses his past not as a burden but as a beacon, illuminating a path for others struggling with addiction and trauma. The long road of emotional recovery may be difficult, but as Castellanos’s story shows, it is possible to transform a life of self-destruction into a mission of healing and hope.

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Meg Kissinger’s 5+ Ways to Navigate Mental Illness in Your Family

The topic of mental illness has long been shrouded in silence, a hushed secret passed down through generations. Yet, as awareness grows and conversations open up, more and more individuals are realizing the profound impact mental health struggles have had on their families. Meg Kissinger, a Pulitzer Prize finalist reporter and author, offers a powerfully unique perspective on this often-taboo subject. Drawing from her own lived experience growing up in a family profoundly affected by mental illness, including the loss of two siblings to suicide, Kissinger provides invaluable insights into breaking the cycle of shame and fostering healing.

“There’s no shame in having mental illness of any kind, depression, anxiety, whatever it is. There’s no shame in that. It’s how you’re made and just that you would not be ashamed of cancer or diabetes. This is how we’re made and this is who we are and, and that’s okay. And it’s just a little piece of who we are,” emphasizes Kissinger, setting the tone for a candid and compassionate discussion about embracing vulnerability and seeking understanding.

1. Reframe Stigma as Discrimination: A Call for Dignity and Humanity

For too long, the term “stigma” has been used to describe the societal prejudice against individuals with mental illness. However, Kissinger, borrowing from the insights of Thomas Insel, former director of the National Institute of Mental Health, advocates for a crucial reframe: stigma is discrimination. This shift in terminology is not merely semantic; it fundamentally alters the focus from an internal failing to an external injustice.

“What stigma, you know, comes from the word stigmata… which literally means the markings of Christ. So marks on your hands and feet and head. And the suggestion is very subtle, but the suggestion is: people living with mental illness are marked,” Kissinger explains. “But I think where you, where you can kind of really get people to change the way they think about those folks is when you calibrate that view into discrimination. And so which ways do we deny people their full dignity and their, their full humanity? And then that really focuses, that shifts the spotlight then on the people who are doing that injustice.”

When we view the issue through the lens of discrimination, it becomes clear that the burden lies not with the individual experiencing mental illness, but with a society that denies them equal rights, opportunities, and compassion. This denial manifests in systemic ways, from inadequate housing and employment opportunities to the insistence that individuals “prove their worth” to receive care and support. By recognizing mental illness as an illness, rather than a character flaw or moral failing, we can begin to dismantle discriminatory practices and advocate for a more equitable and supportive system. This reframe empowers us to challenge the status quo and demand better treatment for those who are suffering.

2. Acknowledge and Address Generational Silence

Growing up in a large Irish Catholic family in an era where mental health was rarely, if ever, discussed, Kissinger experienced firsthand the pervasive silence surrounding mental illness. Her mother struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety, and her father with what is now recognized as bipolar disorder. These conditions, along with others, affected many of her eight siblings, leading to a profound impact on the family, including two suicides.

“My mother struggled with depression and anxiety. Of course, we didn’t know those were words that were never spoken in our house,” Kissinger recalls. “And we were never like sat down and told that. It’s just what we observed. So it took a long time to kind of sis out like what, or you know, what’s going on. And why is it when I come bounding down the stairs, you know, when I’m six years old looking for cream of wheat, it’s my grandmother at the stove and not my mother because she is mysteriously gone and they won’t tell me where she is or why. Then your, of course, your imagination runs wild and you think, what did I do to make my mother go away?”

This unspoken reality created an environment where confusion and self-blame often thrived. The lack of open communication and readily available information meant that the Kissinger children had no framework for understanding what was happening within their own home. This is a common experience for many families where mental illness is an unacknowledged presence. The absence of labels and conversations can lead to profound isolation and a distorted perception of “normal.”

To break this cycle, it’s crucial to acknowledge the impact of generational silence. Understanding that past generations may not have had the language, resources, or societal acceptance to discuss mental illness openly is an important first step. For families navigating similar legacies, initiating conversations, even if difficult, can be profoundly healing. This doesn’t necessarily mean public declarations, but rather creating a safe space within the family for honest dialogue and shared understanding.

3. The Power of Storytelling: Finding Healing in Narrative

Kissinger’s journey to understanding and healing involved writing a book that unflinchingly explored her family’s experiences with mental illness. This was not an easy undertaking, especially given the entrenched family silence. Yet, her siblings not only supported her endeavor but also provided access to personal records and insights, a testament to the transformative power of shared storytelling.

“It was imperative to me that I have their buy-in,” Kissinger states, highlighting the importance of family collaboration in her narrative. “It was important for me to have their approval. At the same time, this wasn’t gonna be a memoir by committee… It had to have the narrative arc and the My voice… But God bless my brothers and sisters and they, I am so grateful to them for being my fact checkers… they were very, very encouraging and. It was to me, nothing short of heroic for them to have the trust in me that I was gonna tell this story the way it needed to be told.”

The act of telling her family’s story, with their collective support, became a vehicle for processing trauma, finding perspective, and ultimately, healing. This illustrates that while not everyone needs to write a book, finding ways to articulate and share one’s experiences can be incredibly cathartic. This could involve:

  • Journaling: A private space to explore thoughts and emotions.
  • Support Groups: Connecting with others who have similar experiences can validate feelings and reduce isolation.
  • Therapy: A trained professional can provide a safe and confidential environment to process complex emotions and develop coping mechanisms.
  • Creative Expression: Art, music, or other creative outlets can offer a non-verbal means of expressing difficult experiences.

The goal is not necessarily public disclosure, but rather finding a healthy outlet to process and integrate one’s experiences with mental illness, both personally and within the family context. When we bravely share our narratives, we not only heal ourselves but also create pathways for others to feel less alone in their struggles.

4. Navigating Grief, Guilt, and Unexpected Relief After Suicide Loss

The death of a loved one by suicide brings a unique and often overwhelming constellation of emotions, including profound sadness, anger, shame, and guilt. Kissinger speaks candidly about the experience of losing two siblings to suicide, and in doing so, sheds light on a rarely acknowledged aspect of suicide grief: relief.

When her sister Nancy died by suicide after years of severe mental illness and multiple attempts, Kissinger and her family experienced a complicated mix of emotions. “When she finally did die, in June of 1978. It was a shock, but not a surprise,” she recounts. “And that night my dad gathered us all into the living room and, you know, looked at us sternly and said, if anybody asks, this was an accident. Which of course is a scary thing to hear. And the takeaway is that this is something to be ashamed of.”

Despite the profound sorrow and the societal pressure to conceal the truth, Kissinger admits to feeling a sense of relief alongside her grief. “There can be relief. Yeah. People need to hear that. Oh, absolutely,” she states. “And you know, I think that’s true of a lot of deaths, especially deaths where that, where the illness has gone on and on and on… it was a terrible sorrow. Of course. But it was also a great relief. I felt guilty that I felt such relief. But no, and you know, looking back on it so many years later. It’s a completely normal response and, um, why wouldn’t I, you know, she was out of her misery and we were out of ours. There’s a big sense of relief that came with that.”

This raw honesty is crucial for suicide loss survivors who may experience similar feelings but feel immense shame or guilt for them. It’s important to understand that feeling relief does not diminish the love for the person lost or the depth of grief. Instead, it can be a natural response to the cessation of intense suffering—both the individual’s and the family’s prolonged vigil.

For those coping with suicide loss, it’s vital to:

  • Allow all emotions: There is no “right” way to grieve. Grief is a complex process, and feelings like anger, guilt, and even relief are valid.
  • Seek support: Connecting with other suicide loss survivors can provide a sense of understanding and reduce isolation. Organizations like the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) offer resources and support groups specifically for those bereaved by suicide.
  • Challenge self-blame: Suicide is a complex issue with many contributing factors, and it is rarely the fault of family members.
  • Remember the person beyond their illness: While the illness was a part of their life, it did not define their entire being. Cherish memories of their good qualities and the joy they brought.

5. Cultivating Self-Love and Asking for Help

For individuals living with mental illness, and for those who support them, cultivating self-love and the courage to ask for help are paramount. Kissinger emphasizes that mental illness, particularly serious conditions like bipolar disorder or schizophrenia, can be a “lifetime saddle,” but it does not preclude a joyful and successful life.

“People with mental illness can have very good lives. And they can have joy and they can be loved and they can be successful. They can find success,” Kissinger asserts, challenging the notion that a diagnosis is a “death sentence.” She highlights her brother Jake, who lives in a group home for individuals with serious mental illness and “never apologizes for that. And he never flinches from talking about the struggles that he’s up against.” His openness and acceptance of himself serve as a powerful example.

For those struggling internally, Kissinger offers a simple yet profound piece of advice: acknowledge that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Once this foundational acceptance is in place, the path to healing becomes clearer.

“I think just to be, just to know yourself and to, it starts with really just acknowledging that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. And once we get away from the shame of that and just accept who we are,” she advises. This internal shift can pave the way for seeking external support.

Learning to ask for help is a critical step. “People have such a hard time asking for help,” Kissinger notes, urging individuals to embrace humility and courage. Whether it’s confiding in a trusted friend, seeking professional therapy, or engaging with support groups, reaching out is a sign of strength, not weakness.

6. Supporting Loved Ones: Empathy, Boundaries, and Understanding

Supporting someone with a mental illness requires a delicate balance of empathy, understanding, and self-preservation. It’s not always easy to distinguish between a “stubborn personality” and the symptoms of an illness, as Kissinger points out. However, starting with the assumption that the person is hurting can guide compassionate responses.

Kissinger shares a poignant personal anecdote about her brother Danny, who confided in her that he “didn’t feel like being alive anymore.” Her initial, regrettable response was to punch him in the arm and tell him to “shut up.” This raw admission underscores the difficulty of navigating such conversations, especially when one is overwhelmed.

“I’m so sorry. And that’s, it’s understandable and that’s, it’s normal. A lot of people feel that way. I’m sorry. You’re going through that. You can get, you can come out on the other side. You’re, you’re gonna feel better. I’m here for you,” Kissinger reflects on what she would say now. This response prioritizes validation, hope, and support, recognizing the immense pain the individual is experiencing.

Furthermore, setting healthy boundaries is crucial to avoid burnout for caregivers. Kissinger quotes her brother Billy, who advises, “Acknowledge when it’s too much. Just learn that you have to sometimes walk away.” This doesn’t mean abandoning a loved one, but rather taking necessary breaks to recharge and maintain one’s own well-being. The love remains, but the ability to offer effective support depends on personal resilience.

Here are key takeaways for supporting a loved one with mental illness:

  • Educate yourself: Learn about the specific mental illness affecting your loved one. Understanding the symptoms and challenges can foster empathy and inform your approach.
  • Listen without judgment: Offer a compassionate ear and validate their feelings, even if you don’t fully understand them.
  • Encourage professional help: Gently suggest seeking therapy, medication, or other appropriate interventions. Offer to help them find resources or make appointments.
  • Practice self-care: Supporting a loved one can be emotionally draining. Prioritize your own mental and physical health to avoid burnout. This might involve setting boundaries, seeking your own therapy, or engaging in stress-reducing activities.
  • Remember it’s an illness, not a choice: Separate the person from their illness. Understand that their behaviors or moods may be symptoms, not intentional acts to hurt you.
  • Offer practical support: Depending on the situation, this could involve helping with daily tasks, transportation to appointments, or simply being a consistent, reliable presence.

Ultimately, navigating mental illness within families requires a commitment to open communication, empathy, and a willingness to challenge long-held societal norms. By reframing stigma as discrimination, acknowledging generational silence, embracing the power of storytelling, and cultivating both self-love and supportive relationships, families can move towards a future where mental health is discussed openly, understood deeply, and met with compassion and care.

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Depression Across Generations: 10 Insights From a Mother–Daughter Conversation on Living With Depression

This article summarizes a heartfelt episode of the Giving Voice to Depression podcast, hosted by Terry McGuire.
In this special, unscripted conversation, Terry and her daughter Carly sit down together to talk about how depression has touched their lives across generations.
What follows are lessons, stories, and hard‑earned insights about what it means to live with depression, love someone with depression, and create healthier family cultures moving forward.

1. Depression Isn’t Always Talked About in Families

In many families, depression and mental health remain unspoken topics, even when multiple generations are affected. Silence can be mistaken for normalcy, creating an atmosphere where everyone feels alone in their struggles.

Carly shared her experience of how others react when they learn about her co‑hosting role:

When I share with folks that I co‑host a depression podcast with my mother, people go “Ooh, how’s that?”… And a large part of that reaction is because mental health, depression are not things we tend to talk about in our families.

This moment captures how stigma is woven into family culture. Carly notes that people often react with surprise because the idea of discussing depression openly with a parent feels foreign. Yet, this very openness is what brings healing.

Key Takeaway:

  • Silence around mental health is common but harmful.
  • Opening up conversations in your family can reduce stigma and bring relief.
  • Sometimes, simply naming what’s going on is a revolutionary act.
  • Creating space for these conversations in your home can be the start of breaking intergenerational patterns.

2. Depression Can Be Passed Down Biologically and Culturally

Depression doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It can be inherited through genetics, but it also flows through the stories, habits, and coping mechanisms of a family. Carly offers a thoughtful explanation:

Depression is one of those ones that can be really transmuted between generations in large part because it’s connected to intergenerational trauma… Of course, so do coping strategies, right?

Here, Carly highlights the double‑sided nature of inheritance: along with genetic predispositions, families pass down ways of coping. Some are healthy, some are harmful, and most are learned unconsciously.

Quick points:

  • Trauma can be transmitted epigenetically, affecting future generations.
  • Coping strategies, even maladaptive ones, are modeled and inherited.
  • Understanding this dynamic can foster compassion—both for ourselves and our parents.

3. Recognizing Depression Often Comes in Hindsight

As they talked, Terry asked Carly when she first recognized her own depression. Carly paused, reflecting on how elusive that awareness can be:

I can certainly remember really low lows… but so many people around me were also experiencing that, that it just felt like part of being a teenager in so many ways, or part of, being a young adult or part of those major life transitions.

It’s often only with hindsight—and education—that people see their symptoms clearly. At the time, they might chalk them up to hormones, adolescence, or stress. This shared blindness can make a household full of pain appear “normal.”

What this means:

  • Many people normalize their symptoms because they seem universal.
  • Awareness often comes only after learning more about mental health.
  • Early recognition is powerful, but late recognition can still spark healing.

4. Small Coping Rituals Can Have a Big Impact

Terry shared a powerful childhood memory: the “worry jar” she created to help Carly manage nighttime anxiety.
Carly would write worries on slips of paper and seal them in a jar with a screw‑on lid. A nearby basket held slips of gratitude.

As Carly described:

The jar was where I would put the worries and then we’d screw on the lid… and the basket was for three things I was grateful for so they could breathe.

Why this is important:

  • Small rituals can help children externalize worries.
  • Gratitude practices can plant seeds for resilience, even if they’re hard to embrace at first.

5. Depression Doesn’t Always Look Like Sadness

Society often imagines depression as someone crying in bed, but high‑functioning depression is real. Terry’s experience shows that you can meet obligations, raise children, and even appear cheerful while quietly suffering.

As Terry eloquently put it:

It’s not like, Oh, I have an illness. It’s like, sometimes this happens… and then was like, Phew, mom’s back.

Carly reflected on this duality:

In the past, someone with depression did not look like you looked in my childhood. And the fact remains that someone with depression looks like exactly what you looked like in my childhood.

Key insights:

  • Depression can wear many masks, including humor and productivity.
  • High‑functioning individuals often feel unseen and unsupported.
  • Recognizing hidden struggles is vital for true compassion.

6. Therapy and Antidepressants Can Be Lifelines

Seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Carly spoke candidly about her treatment journey:

I’ve been on and off antidepressants… I’ve pretty much been in therapy since I was 18… First of all, none of them ever told me I had depression. You know, you are allowed to ask. I say this now knowing you can say, “What do you put as a diagnosis code?” And that can be a really important thing for you to know

This honesty is a reminder that the path to healing is often nonlinear. Medication and therapy can be tools you use for a season—or for a lifetime.

Actionable advice:

  • Therapy can provide ongoing support through life’s changes.
  • Medications can help rebalance brain chemistry and reduce suffering.
  • Don’t hesitate to ask your provider for clarity about your diagnosis or treatment plan.

7. Trauma’s Impact Echoes Through Families

The conversation turned toward trauma and its far‑reaching effects. Carly brought in the words of Resmaa Menakem, a fellow social worker:

Trauma in a person, decontextualized over time, can look like personality… Trauma in a family, decontextualized over time, can look like family traits.

These words underline the importance of context. Without it, we risk pathologizing behaviors that are, in fact, adaptive responses to pain.

Why this matters:

  • Families may label coping behaviors as flaws or quirks.
  • By seeing the roots of these behaviors, we cultivate compassion.
  • A trauma‑informed lens helps us understand that what kept us safe then might not serve us now.

8. Mental Health Days Can Teach Compassion and Boundaries

Terry reflected warmly on a parenting choice that normalized rest and self‑care:

I remember you coming down and saying, I need a mental health day… There was an understanding of varying capacity, of rest or needing a break.

These “mental health days” validated her children’s needs and showed them that mental well‑being deserves attention. As adults, they now see that those days taught them to honor their limits without shame.

Why it’s powerful:

  • It models that rest is not a weakness but a necessity.
  • It builds trust between parent and child, fostering open communication.
  • It encourages kids to develop self‑advocacy skills early on.

9. Holidays Don’t Have to Be Picture‑Perfect

One Thanksgiving, Terry was too depleted to host a traditional holiday. Instead, she and her grown children ate turkey sandwiches in bed and watched movies together.

As Terry recalled with a mix of tenderness and honesty:

I didn’t have a drop. I just kept falling asleep while you watched it and waking back up because I wanted to be with you but didn’t have the energy.

Carly reflected on that day:

We just let all pretense go. It wasn’t for anybody else. It was for us… and it was one of the best Thanksgivings we’ve ever had.

Lesson learned:

  • Let go of “supposed to” expectations.
  • Sometimes the most memorable moments are the simplest.

10. Honest Conversations Can Heal Generations

Finally, Terry expressed vulnerability, admitting she worried what Carly might say about her parenting. Instead, the conversation was filled with grace and mutual understanding. Carly’s reflection sums it up beautifully:

I think there’s a way in which — because that was a grace that you extended us and a normalizing thing that you extended in our direction — I wonder if it made it easier for us to extend it in the other.

Final reflections from this insight:

  • Healing is a two‑way street.
  • Children raised with compassion often become adults who offer it back.
  • Honest conversations rewrite family stories in real time.

Key Takeaways

If you only remember a few points from this conversation, let them be these:

  • Talk about mental health openly: Your story might be the lifeline someone else needs.
  • Consider the bigger picture: Trauma and depression can be passed down, but awareness interrupts cycles.
  • Look beyond appearances: High‑functioning depression is real, and many who are smiling are still struggling.
  • Use small, consistent tools: Simple rituals like worry jars or gratitude baskets can help regulate emotions.
  • Seek professional support: Therapy and medication are not failures; they are tools.
  • Validate the need for rest: Normalize taking mental health days and honoring capacity.
  • Reimagine family traditions: Sometimes, the simplest moments—like turkey sandwiches in bed—become the most cherished.
  • Name what was unspoken: Breaking silence about family trauma creates room for healing.
  • Practice reciprocity in care: When parents model grace, children often mirror it back in adulthood.
  • Stay curious and compassionate: Look at behaviors through the lens of context and survival, not just pathology.

Final Thoughts

This mother‑daughter conversation on the Giving Voice to Depression podcast is a reminder that healing often starts with words spoken aloud. When Terry and Carly sat down for this unscripted discussion, they modeled something rare and powerful: intergenerational honesty about mental health.

They showed that depression does not define a person—or a family—but it does shape experiences, relationships, and memories. By reflecting on rituals like the worry jar, the quiet Thanksgiving in bed, and the shared understanding of mental health days, they illustrated how small acts of care can resonate for decades.

These insights invite us all to consider our own family narratives. Where might silence have taken root? Which coping strategies were passed down without question? And most importantly, what new patterns can we choose moving forward?

Terry and Carly’s dialogue reminds us that it’s never too late to start these conversations. In speaking truthfully about our pain and our resilience, we light the way for those who come after us—and for those walking alongside us right now.

May their story encourage you to ask questions, to listen with compassion, and to believe that healing, while not always linear, is always possible.

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Spoon Theory and Depression: 9 Life‑Changing Insights to Manage Limited Energy

This article is a summary of a conversation from an episode of the Giving Voice to Depression podcast hosted by Terry McGuire. In this episode, Terry and Dr. Anita Sanz explore the Spoon Theory and how it offers a unique lens for understanding and managing depression.

Living with depression is often described as exhausting, invisible, and misunderstood. For many, finding the right words to explain what it feels like day-to-day can be incredibly difficult. That is where Spoon Theory comes in. Originally developed by Christine Miserandino to explain the experience of living with lupus, Spoon Theory has become a valuable framework for people living with a variety of chronic illnesses, including depression. It provides a simple yet powerful way to describe energy limits, decision-making, and the constant weighing of priorities that many face daily.

On this episode of the podcast, Terry McGuire and co-host Dr. Anita Sanz dive into this metaphor and unpack its relevance to mental health. Anita brings her experience living with chronic illness, and Terry shares how depression has impacted her life. Together, they shed light on how Spoon Theory can help people manage depression, communicate with others, and practice self-compassion. Their discussion is full of practical strategies, heartfelt reflections, and relatable stories that make the concept come alive.

If you’ve ever struggled to explain your depression to others or to yourself, or if you’re looking for new ways to approach self-care and energy management, the insights from this conversation are invaluable. Below, we explore nine of the most powerful lessons shared in this episode and offer context, quotes, and examples to help you apply them in your own life.

1. Understanding Spoon Theory: A Visual for Limited Energy

Spoon Theory uses a simple, everyday object—spoons—to represent energy. Each spoon stands for a unit of energy you have available in a given day. Unlike people who wake up with what feels like unlimited energy, those living with depression often start with far fewer spoons.

Dr. Anita Sanz explained:

Spoon theory and using spoon theory is like a self-pacing strategy that allows you to become more and more mindful of how much energy tasks take from you — so that you can plan accordingly.

Christine Miserandino created Spoon Theory spontaneously while explaining to a friend what it feels like to live with lupus. Her friend asked her to describe life with chronic illness, so Christine handed her a handful of spoons and began taking them away as she listed daily activities: getting dressed, cooking, commuting, working. Each task cost a spoon, and when the spoons were gone, so was her energy.

Why it resonates: For people with depression, this analogy hits home. Energy feels finite and fragile. The spoons help make invisible struggles visible, giving a language to something that often goes misunderstood.

2. Why Depression Feels Like Running on Fumes

When depression is at its worst, even the simplest tasks can feel monumental. Getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, or eating a meal can consume multiple spoons. What might seem effortless to others can feel impossible.

Terry shared:

The idea of a shower when I am in a depression is a very different thing.

This reframing helps explain why people with depression often cancel plans or struggle with routine responsibilities. It’s not laziness or a lack of desire—it’s about limited resources. Understanding this helps build empathy, both for yourself and from those around you.

Key point: On tough days, every activity comes at a cost. Recognizing this is the first step to making compassionate choices.

3. Planning With Spoons in Mind

Energy management becomes an essential skill when you know your spoons are limited. Planning with spoons in mind means prioritizing tasks and making intentional choices.

Dr. Sanz explained that some days, you might start with 20 spoons, while other days you might have only 10 or even 5. Every decision—whether to cook dinner, attend a social gathering, or clean the house—draws from this limited supply.

Sometimes people will even push themselves and borrow spoons from the next day, but that’s not a sustainable strategy.

Practical tips for planning:

  • List your tasks and rank them by importance.
  • Budget your spoons: spend them on essentials first.
  • Avoid overcommitting: it’s better to save a spoon than to run on empty.

4. The Power of Low-Barrier Self-Care

When you have few spoons, high-effort self-care isn’t always an option. Instead, focus on low-barrier self-care—tasks that require minimal energy but still support your well-being.

Some low-barrier self-care ideas shared in the episode include:

  • Keeping medications and water within reach.
  • Stocking snacks that don’t require preparation, like protein bars or fruit.
  • Using wipes for hygiene when showering feels impossible.

Anita advised:

What we’re looking for are low energy, low-barrier self-care tasks. Things that hopefully take almost no spoons.

This approach emphasizes gentleness. You don’t need to overhaul your day—sometimes it’s enough to take your medication, eat a snack, and rest.

5. Small Wins Matter

One of the most empowering aspects of Spoon Theory is recognizing the value of small wins. In depression, monumental tasks can feel out of reach, but small steps still count.

Examples of small wins:

  • Moving from the bed to the couch.
  • Opening the blinds the night before so you wake to sunlight.
  • Listening to a podcast or music without pressure to engage.

Terry put it simply:

You can’t ask yourself to do things with spoons that you don’t have.

Celebrate the small actions. They might not seem like much, but they are proof of resilience and forward movement.

6. Communicating Spoon Limits Improves Relationships

Spoon Theory isn’t just about managing your own expectations—it also improves how you relate to others. When friends, family, or coworkers understand that your energy is limited, it becomes easier to set boundaries without guilt.

Anita shared:

You need to be assertive and communicate that, and my husband has absolutely no problem. I’ll pick up something, not an issue.

Using spoons as a shared language can:

  • Prevent misunderstandings when you decline invitations.
  • Encourage support from loved ones.
  • Build empathy by giving others a tangible way to understand your limits.

7. Spoon Theory Builds Self-Compassion

One of the most transformative insights from this episode is the importance of self-compassion. When you’re living with depression, it’s easy to criticize yourself for not doing more. Spoon Theory offers a kinder framework.

Terry emphasized:

If you are, you’re doing fabulous. You’re doing great. So no shaming, no blaming yourself for not doing what you could do on a day where you’ve got many, many, many more spoons.

Instead of asking, Why can’t I do more? ask yourself, Am I doing the best I can with the spoons I have today? This shift allows space for grace, understanding, and healing.

8. How Spoon Theory Connects Communities

Spoon Theory has created a global community of people who call themselves Spoonies. This identity helps people feel less alone in their struggles.

Terry observed:

Once people understand the spoon theory, they seem to understand me a little better. But I also think they live their life a little differently, too.

Being part of a community where others “get it” reduces isolation. It also helps normalize discussions about invisible illnesses, including depression.

Community benefits:

  • Shared understanding and validation.
  • A sense of belonging.
  • Opportunities to share tips and encouragement.

9. Embracing Gradual Progress

Recovery isn’t a straight path. Spoon Theory reminds us that progress often comes in small, sustainable steps. On days when you have more spoons, you can do more. On low-spoon days, you focus on essentials.

Dr. Sanz said:

Little by little by little we start seeing the improvements. Once we get a few more spoons, which we can do if we don’t waste a bunch that we don’t have, we can do something else.

Ideas for gradual progress:

  • Start with hydration and medication.
  • Add gentle movement when possible.
  • Progress to outdoor time or light errands as spoons increase.

Key Takeaways

  • Spoon Theory is a powerful metaphor for managing limited energy and making compassionate decisions.
  • Depression affects daily tasks in ways others might not see; Spoon Theory helps explain that.
  • Low-barrier self-care can sustain you on tough days.
  • Small wins matter. Every step forward, no matter how small, is progress.
  • Communicating spoon limits fosters understanding and better relationships.
  • Self-compassion is essential. Ask yourself if you’re doing your best with the spoons you have.
  • Community support matters. Spoonies around the world share this language and support each other.
  • Progress is gradual. Healing happens step by step, spoon by spoon.

Final Thoughts

The conversation between Terry McGuire and Dr. Anita Sanz on the Giving Voice to Depression podcast offers a compassionate, relatable, and practical look at what it’s like to live with depression. Spoon Theory provides a way to make sense of the daily challenges, prioritize self-care, and communicate more effectively with others. It helps those struggling to embrace self-compassion and celebrate small victories while moving toward gradual improvement.

Whether you are living with depression, love someone who is, or simply want to understand this experience better, these insights are invaluable. Spoon Theory doesn’t solve every problem, but it gives us language, perspective, and a roadmap for navigating life with limited energy. And perhaps most importantly, it reminds us that doing our best with the spoons we have is enough—and that we’re not alone on this journey.

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Video Games and Depression: Gaming’s Impact on Mental Health and Wellness

If you’ve ever felt like gaming is the only thing that helps you cope or noticed that your loved one is spending more and more time in front of a screen, you’re not alone.

For some, video games are a welcome escape. They offer structure, connection, and a break from stress. But for others, especially teens and young adults, that escape can become a lifeline; and eventually, a source of distress.

Infographic titled Warning Signs of Unhealthy Gaming listing signs such as playing for hours without breaks, skipping responsibilities, irritability when asked to stop, lying about gaming, losing interest in other activities, choosing games over friends or family, playing late into the night, falling behind in school or work, using gaming to avoid problems, and trying to quit but being unable to. Includes a cartoon of a distressed person and gaming controller icons.

Gaming disorder1 is real and it can impact mood, motivation, relationships, and overall mental health. But video games aren’t all bad. In fact, some can be used intentionally to support healing and emotional well-being.

This guide will help you explore the full picture: the benefits of gaming when used in moderation, the risks of excessive screen time, and how to recognize when it’s time to seek help. Whether you’re a parent concerned about your teen or someone wondering if your own gaming habits have crossed a line, you’re in the right place.

You don’t have to figure it out alone. There’s support and there are healthy ways forward.

Video Games and Mental Health

Many people use gaming as a way to unwind, pass time, or escape stress. But when screen time starts to interfere with sleep, relationships, or mental health, it may signal a deeper issue.

While some games are designed with mental health goals in mind, including titles used to treat attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD)2 or support emotional processing, these remain the exception. A growing body of research warns of the risks: disrupted sleep, social withdrawal, low mood, and symptoms of anxiety or depression.

If you’re feeling stuck in a cycle of compulsive gaming or watching someone you care about struggle to log off, there is help. This guide will walk through what we know about the mental health impact of video games, what warning signs to watch for, and how to get support that actually works.

Infographic titled How Video Game Dopamine Spikes Lead to Depression, showing a step-by-step process where video games release dopamine, overstimulate the brain, cause desensitization, make real life feel less rewarding, lower motivation and mood, and ultimately lead to symptoms of depression. Includes a graph line and illustration of a person sitting alone holding a tablet.

Limited Benefits of Video Games for Mental Health

When used intentionally and in moderation, video games can offer mental health benefits. Certain games promote problem-solving, strategic thinking, and creativity.

Multiplayer and cooperative games can foster social connection, teamwork, and communication, which are especially valuable for teens who may struggle with in-person interactions. 

Some games are designed to teach stress management, emotional regulation, and mindfulness, offering interactive ways to practice coping skills. Video games can provide a temporary escape from daily stressors, allowing teens to relax and decompress in a safe and controlled environment.

Infographic titled Video Games & Mental Health: Main Pros and Cons of Gaming, showing benefits like brain stimulation, mental breaks, social interaction, boosted mood, and motivation, alongside risks such as dopamine overload, social withdrawal, sleep problems, depression, anxiety, and gaming addiction. A game controller graphic is split between blue (pros) and red (cons).

Consequences of Excessive Gaming

While moderate gaming can be beneficial, excessive gaming4 may lead to negative mental health outcomes and can contribute to mental disorders. Often teens use gaming as a way to provide entertainment, social engagement, and cognitive stimulation, excessive gaming presents significant risks for teenagers. 

Adolescence is a critical time for emotional, social, and neurological development, and overuse of gaming can interfere with these processes. One of the primary concerns is the potential for addictive behaviors.

Excessive gaming can lead to compulsive use5 and gaming disorder, a condition recognized by the World Health Organization that involves prioritizing gaming over other important activities and losing control over gaming habits.

Additionally, research has linked heavy gaming to increased symptoms of depression,6 anxiety, irritability, and mood instability. Many teens may also turn to gaming as an unhealthy coping mechanism to avoid dealing with real-life stressors. 

Prolonged gaming, especially late at night, can disrupt sleep patterns, leading to fatigue, reduced concentration, and declining academic performance. While some games offer social interaction, spending too much time gaming can lead to social isolation and weaken teens’ face-to-face communication and relationship-building skills. Isolation leads to depression7 as socializing is a key factor in positive mental health.

Physically, long hours of sedentary gameplay can contribute to poor posture, eye strain, and a lack of physical activity, increasing the risk of obesity and other health issues.

Although gaming in moderation can be part of a healthy lifestyle, it is important for parents, educators, and mental health professionals to help teens set healthy boundaries, balance screen time with other activities, and engage in open conversations about the impact of gaming on mental and physical health.

Neurological Impact of Gaming

The question “Do video games cause depression?” is frequently debated in psychiatry and mental health research. The answer is complex.

While video game playing does not inherently cause depressive disorders, excessive gaming—particularly when it replaces real-life engagement or becomes compulsive—can increase the risk of developing mental health conditions,8 especially in adolescents and young adults.

Excessive video game use affects key neurotransmitters responsible for mood, motivation, and reward. When teens engage in video gaming, particularly for extended periods, their brain’s reward system becomes highly activated, primarily through the neurotransmitter dopamine.9

Dopamine and the Reward System

Video games are designed to deliver frequent, predictable rewards (like leveling up, winning points, or unlocking achievements), which trigger the release of dopamine. Dopamine is the “feel-good” chemical in the brain that reinforces behaviors by making them feel pleasurable.

In teens, whose brains are still developing, this can lead to a heightened sensitivity to rewards and novelty, making gaming especially enticing and habit-forming.

Neurotransmitter Dysregulation

While occasional dopamine release is healthy, chronic overstimulation through excessive gaming can lead to dopamine desensitization. This means the brain becomes less responsive to dopamine over time, requiring more stimulation to achieve the same pleasurable effect.

As a result, real-life activities like school, socializing, or hobbies may feel less rewarding, contributing to symptoms of low mood, irritability, depression, and anxiety. 

Teens begin to develop a constant craving for the dopamine “feel-good” rush that gaming provides. However, in everyday life, our brains don’t naturally produce dopamine in the same high quantities or with the same frequency as video games do. It can become an addictive feeling to need constant dopamine fix.

Effects on Mood and Emotional Regulation

Video games can artificially spike dopamine but fail to teach the brain how to manage serotonin, GABA, and norepinephrine, neurotransmitters involved in emotional regulation, relaxation, and focus.

This imbalance can make teens more prone to emotional instability, stress, and difficulty managing real-life challenges without gaming as an escape.

  • Dopamine Dysregulation: Video games trigger dopamine release—the brain’s “reward chemical”—creating a feedback loop similar to other behavioral addictions.
  • Reduced Serotonin Activity: Serotonin may be negatively affected by poor sleep, lack of physical activity, and social isolation.
  • Cortisol and Stress Response: High-stakes or violent video games may elevate cortisol, impacting emotional stability, anxiety and depression.
  • Decreased Prefrontal Cortex Activity: Prolonged gaming reduces prefrontal activity, affecting impulse control and executive functioning, and mirroring attention deficit symptoms.

Video games are more than just entertainment. They can have a real impact on mental health, including depression. But remember, support is available.

At Recovery.com, you can find treatment programs that understand the unique role technology and gaming play in mental health. 

If you’re ready to take the next step, explore personalized treatment options near you that offer compassionate care, real solutions, and a path forward.

FAQs

Q: Are violent video games harmful to mental health?

A: The impact varies among individuals; some studies suggest a link between violent games and increased aggression,10 while others find no significant effects. What we do know is that video games certainly can impact mood.

Q: How much gaming is considered excessive?

A: Gaming becomes excessive when it interferes with daily responsibilities and leads to negative consequences in various aspects of life. If they are constantly choosing gaming over other things it may be time to reach out to a professional.

Q. How can I help my teen with excessive gaming?

A: Start to monitor their time spent online. Have limits and enforce them. Enable screen time so they have to take breaks and encourage other activities outside of the home.

Q. What should I do if I think video games are impacting my loved one’s mental health?

A: If you are concerned about your loved one’s mental health, it’s always a good idea to consult a professional. Search for someone who works with teens, has experience with the areas of your concern (depression, anxiety, ADHD) and gaming addictions.

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Depression Test: Free & No Personal Information Required

Are you feeling down, hopeless, or just not yourself? It can be tough to know when it’s time to seek help. This simple test is a starting point to help you understand if you might be experiencing symptoms of depression. It’s free, requires no sign-up, and can give you some initial insights.

Important Note: This test is not a diagnostic tool. It’s designed for informational purposes only and does not replace the expertise of a mental health professional. If you’re concerned about your mental health, it’s crucial to consult with a qualified healthcare provider.

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Understanding Suicide Loss: Lisa’s 5+ Ways to Support Yourself and Others

If you or someone you know is in crisis, please call the 988 Crisis Line or your local emergency services number.

The ripple effect of suicide is far-reaching, touching countless lives beyond the individual lost. For every suicide, 135 people are impacted, whether they are family, friends, or acquaintances. This staggering statistic, highlighted by Lisa Sugarman on the Giving Voice to Mental Health Podcast, means that over 94 million people annually worldwide are affected by suicide loss. This unique form of grief, often accompanied by complex emotions like guilt and trauma, requires specialized support that generalized grief resources may not provide.

Lisa Sugarman, a three-time suicide loss survivor, emphasizes the isolation often felt by those grieving a suicide. “I just want people to understand two things,” she shares, “First is that they’re not alone. It’s such an isolating experience, but you’re not alone. There are so many people who’ve been impacted by suicide loss. People just don’t talk about it. The second thing is help is out there.”

For those navigating the aftermath of suicide loss, or for anyone seeking to better understand and support someone who is, this article delves into the nuances of suicide grief and offers practical advice and essential resources.

1. Recognizing the Unique Nature of Suicide Grief

Grief is a complex emotion, but grief stemming from suicide loss carries additional layers of pain and confusion. Unlike other forms of loss, suicide often leaves survivors grappling with questions of “why” and “what if,” leading to intense feelings of guilt, shame, and even anger. The sudden and often traumatic nature of suicide can make it incredibly difficult for those left behind to process their emotions.

Lisa Sugarman eloquently describes this distinction: “Suicide’s a funny animal in that way. It’s a, it’s a very unique and nuanced kind of grief because you have elements of a suicide grief that don’t exist with traditional loss.” These elements can include:

  • Profound Guilt: Survivors often question if they missed signs or could have done something to prevent the death. This self-blame, though often unfounded, can be overwhelming.
  • Trauma: The manner of death can be deeply traumatic, leading to intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, and other symptoms of post-traumatic stress.
  • Stigma and Shame: Despite growing awareness, a societal stigma still surrounds suicide, making it difficult for survivors to openly discuss their loss and seek support.
  • Complicated Bereavement: The unresolved questions and intense emotions associated with suicide can lead to complicated bereavement, a prolonged and intense form of grief that interferes with daily functioning.

Understanding these unique facets is the first step toward effective support and healing. It acknowledges that suicide loss is not “just” grief but a multifaceted experience requiring specific understanding and care.

Explore treatment options for suicidality.

2. Navigating the Waves of Grief, Even Years Later

Grief is not a linear process; it ebbs and flows, often resurfacing unexpectedly even years after a loss. Lisa Sugarman’s personal story powerfully illustrates this. She grieved her father’s death from a “heart attack” for 35 years before accidentally discovering he had died by suicide. This revelation brought back the raw, intense pain of loss, feeling as though she was “10 years old again.”

“My body remembered that grief the day that I found out he died when I was 10. In the same way I found out that it was a suicide 35 years later, and my body went right back to that same feeling that I had not felt in decades.”

This experience underscores that grief, particularly suicide grief, is not something to “get over.” Instead, it’s about learning to integrate the loss into your life and finding ways to carry it while still experiencing joy. For many, the initial shock and devastation eventually give way to a different, albeit persistent, form of grief.

  • Grief Attacks: These are sudden, intense waves of sadness, longing, or distress that can be triggered by a memory, a date, or even a seemingly unrelated event. They are a normal part of the grieving process.
  • Cyclical Nature: Grief often revisits in cycles, with periods of intense sadness followed by moments of peace or even happiness.
  • Finding a “New Normal”: Life after suicide loss is never the same, but it is possible to find a “new normal” where the pain is still present but no longer paralyzing. This involves slowly re-engaging with life, finding meaning, and honoring the memory of the lost loved one.

It’s crucial for those grieving to be patient and compassionate with themselves. There’s no timeline for healing, and every individual’s journey is unique.

Explore treatment options for grief.

3. Understanding Why Suicide Happens: It’s Not About You

One of the most agonizing aspects of suicide loss for survivors is the persistent question of “Was I enough?” or “Why did they do this to me?” This self-blame is a common and understandable reaction, but as Lisa Sugarman and many experts emphasize, suicide is rarely about the people left behind.

“What we have to remember is that the reason why our person chose to take their life was not about us. It’s not about us at all. It’s about them. And that one act, that final act, was the only act that they had complete control over.”

Individuals contemplating suicide are often in immense emotional pain, feeling hopeless and overwhelmed, unable to see a way out of their suffering. Their decision is a desperate attempt to end that pain, not to hurt or abandon their loved ones. While distorted thinking may lead some to believe they are a “burden” to their families, this perception is a symptom of their illness, not a reflection of reality.

  • Mental Illness as a Driver: Suicide is often linked to underlying mental health conditions like depression, bipolar disorder, or other psychiatric illnesses that impair judgment and problem-solving.
  • Loss of Control: For many, suicide is perceived as the only action they can control in a life that feels entirely out of their grasp.
  • Inability to See Alternatives: The intense emotional pain can blind individuals to alternative solutions or available help.

Understanding these dynamics can help to alleviate the crushing burden of guilt that many survivors carry. You cannot fix what you do not know is broken, and even when you are aware of someone’s struggles, you may not be able to prevent their choice.

4. How to Support Someone Grieving a Suicide Loss

Knowing what to say and do when someone has lost a loved one to suicide can be challenging. Many people fear saying the wrong thing or making the situation worse. However, genuine presence and thoughtful communication can make a significant difference.

Lisa Sugarman offers clear guidance on what is helpful and what to avoid:

Helpful Phrases and Actions:

  • “I’m here, I care.”
  • “I want to listen.”
  • “Let’s talk. What do you need?”
  • “How can I help?”
  • “Would it be helpful to you if we talked about your person? Or if we didn’t talk about your person?”

These phrases offer unconditional support and an open invitation for the grieving person to share at their own pace. Offering practical help, such as bringing meals, running errands, or simply sitting with them, can also be invaluable.

Things to Avoid:

  • Asking for details about how the person took their life.
  • Passing any kind of judgment.
  • Saying things like, “Were there any signs?” This implies blame or negligence on the part of the survivor.
  • Saying, “I bet you feel so guilty.” This can inflict immense pain on someone already struggling with self-blame.

The most powerful thing you can do is hold space for someone who has lost a loved one to suicide. This means being present, listening without judgment, and allowing them to feel whatever they feel without trying to “fix” it. Remember, almost everyone universally wants to be able to talk about their person in some way, so don’t shy away from mentioning their name or sharing positive memories.

5. Essential Resources and Lifelines for Support

In times of crisis or profound grief, knowing where to turn for help is crucial. Many resources are available, not just for those experiencing suicidal ideation, but also for suicide loss survivors and those who wish to support them.

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Call or Text 988

“The best place that anyone can call and reach out to is the 988 Crisis and Suicide Hotline,” Lisa Sugarman emphasizes. This is a vital resource for anyone dealing with any kind of crisis, including grief. It’s important to remember that you don’t have to be in a suicidal state of mind to utilize 988. It’s designed to help individuals navigate any crisis, and grief is a significant part of that.

  • Availability: 24/7 in the United States.
  • Accessibility: Available by phone call, text, or through online chat at 988lifeline.org.
  • Confidentiality: Services are confidential.
  • Support for Others: As Lisa points out, you can even call 988 if you’re trying to support someone else and need guidance on how to approach the situation. “You don’t have to be calling for yourself,” she explains.

Other Valuable Resources:

  • The Trevor Project: This organization provides crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to LGBTQ youth (ages 13-25). They offer a toll-free hotline (1-866-488-7386), text messaging, and online chat. You can find more information at TheTrevorProject.org.
  • Crisis Text Line: For those who prefer texting over talking, the Crisis Text Line offers support by texting HOME to 741741 from anywhere in the US, anytime, about any type of crisis. Learn more at crisistextline.org.
  • American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP): AFSP offers programs and resources for suicide prevention, education, and support for loss survivors. Their website, afsp.org, provides extensive information, including local support groups and resources.
  • Alliance of Hope for Suicide Loss Survivors: This online forum and resource center provides a safe and compassionate community for suicide loss survivors. Visit allianceofhope.org.
  • Local Support Groups: Many communities have in-person support groups specifically for suicide loss survivors. These groups offer a unique space to connect with others who truly understand the experience. Search online or through organizations like AFSP for groups in your area. Recovery.com also offers resources and treatment options for various mental health challenges.

Conclusion

Suicide loss is a profoundly painful and isolating experience, but as Lisa Sugarman reminds us, “You are not alone. There are so many people who’ve been impacted by suicide loss.” By understanding the unique nature of this grief, recognizing that it’s not a reflection of your worth or actions, and knowing where to access support, individuals can begin to navigate their healing journey. Whether you are a suicide loss survivor or someone looking to support a loved one, remember that compassion, open communication, and utilizing available resources are powerful tools for healing and hope.

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Softening to the Darkness: Eric’s Story of Radical Acceptance and Healing from Depression

This article is a summary of a conversation from the Giving Voice to Depression podcast, hosted by Terry McGuire. In this moving and insightful episode titled Ep. 368: “Softening Into the Darkness”, guest Eric shares his deeply personal experience of living with long-term depression. Instead of trying to eliminate or outsmart his depression, Eric describes how he began a radical shift in perspective: softening into it, embracing it, and ultimately transforming his relationship with it. Below are nine lessons from Eric’s story that offer hope, insight, and tools for anyone navigating their own mental health challenges.

1. Recovery Doesn’t Mean Eradication

Eric starts by challenging the common notion that mental health recovery is a destination. He explains that healing isn’t about wiping away depression entirely:

Eric shared:

It doesn’t mean that I’m no longer depressed, it doesn’t mean that I still don’t have my bad days, but I’m less pinned underneath them.

Instead of seeking a silver bullet or a cure, Eric began recognizing subtle signs that he was returning to himself—laughing more easily, feeling creative again, and reconnecting with hope.

Key takeaways:

  • Healing is not binary; it exists on a spectrum.
  • Progress may look like small moments of ease or clarity.
  • Letting go of the idea that we must “finish” healing can be freeing.

2. Depression Often Feels Like a Crushing Weight

One of the most powerful metaphors Eric uses to describe his depression is a giant boulder pinning him to the earth:

Eric described:

In a lot of my guided meditations, I could feel the weight of such a boulder—like on my chest, and just pinning me to the earth. And you can’t move, you can’t lift it, you’re just getting crushed.

This physical imagery helped him communicate just how debilitating depression can be—not just emotionally but functionally.

Key signs of this kind of weight include:

  • Loss of executive function
  • Complete apathy and disinterest
  • Inability to perform basic daily tasks

3. Shame Is a Hidden Layer of Depression

Eric also speaks to the shame that comes with being unable to “handle life”:

As Eric put it:

The shame of feeling like I can’t do these things, but I know that I can. I know that I can if I just tried hard enough or if I wasn’t lazy.

From the outside, it may appear that someone is simply being unmotivated. But for those experiencing it, depression includes self-blame, guilt, and feeling broken.

Ways to reduce internalized shame:

  • Normalize the experience by hearing stories like Eric’s
  • Challenge thoughts that label you as lazy or weak
  • Seek compassionate therapy modalities

4. Moving Beyond the “Headwork”

Eric had long tried to understand his depression through intellectual analysis. But talk therapy alone left him stuck:

Eric explained:

If I could only understand, then maybe I could solve, maybe I could cure… But the more I understood about my depression, the more I kept running into this wall.

He began to recognize that managing depression wasn’t about outthinking it, but about engaging his emotions and body in a deeper way.

What Eric tried before the shift:

  • SSRIs
  • Talk therapy
  • Meditation
  • Yoga
  • Numbing with food or substances

What finally helped: A shift to what he called “heartwork.”

5. Internal Family Systems Therapy (IFS) Opened a New Path

The turning point for Eric came with Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy, which personifies our inner parts. For Eric, the boulder had a name: Atlas.

Eric shared:

He was holding up the boulder to protect the parts that were trapped underneath it… my innocence and my inner child.

This revelation allowed him to see depression not as an enemy, but as a protector—a part doing its best to shield him from pain.

IFS helped him:

  • See his depression as a “part” rather than a flaw
  • Communicate with these parts in therapeutic dialogue
  • Reframe depression as a misguided form of protection

6. Softening and Acceptance as Healing Tools

Instead of resisting or rejecting his depression, Eric learned to soften into it:

As Eric described:

The rigidity, the resistance to my depression only deepened it… The greatest movement that I’ve been able to succeed with in managing my depression has been grace, softening.

This acceptance didn’t mean giving up. It meant embracing all parts of himself and loosening the hold that control and resistance had on him.

Softening looked like:

  • Allowing himself to grieve
  • Speaking kindly to Atlas
  • Defending his inner child
  • Relinquishing perfectionism

7. Faith and Curiosity Can Replace Hope

Eric admits that during the darkest moments, hope felt out of reach. Instead, he discovered something quieter and more sustainable: faith.

Eric said:

There was a time where I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be here at all… But now I have a confidence and a faith in myself in knowing that I want to find out what happens next.

As Terry reflected, when hope isn’t accessible, curiosity can be a gentler stepping stone.

Try asking yourself:

  • What would it be like to see tomorrow?
  • Can I be curious about the next chapter of my story?
  • Is there a part of me that still wants to know what happens next?

8. Growth Comes From Rootedness, Not Control

Eric beautifully described a metaphor of a sprouting potato to explain his newfound sense of rootedness:

Eric reflected:

In our dark night of the soul, we are so just yearning for soil, for nourishment, and we will reach everywhere to find it. And once we do, we can start the process of growing.

After years of clawing through the mud, Eric now lets the path rise to meet him.

This groundedness includes:

  • Letting go of control
  • Allowing emotions to be felt, not fixed
  • Releasing expectations of what healing should look like

9. There Is No Shame in Doing the Work Again

Eric’s story reminds us that healing is not a straight line. There will be cycles, triggers, and setbacks:

As Terry explained:

It is brave work and it is difficult work and it is work that we’re likely going to have to do again… But each step forward is a step forward.

The goal isn’t to arrive at a final “cured” state. It’s to gain more tools, more grace, and more confidence each time we come around again.

Final Thoughts: Softening as a Lifelong Practice

Eric’s story offers a deeply important reminder that healing doesn’t mean achieving some perfect version of ourselves. It means meeting ourselves where we are—with compassion, curiosity, and acceptance. His experience shows us that even the darkest times hold information and that the things we often resist most are sometimes the ones trying to help us the most.

By honoring the parts of himself he once rejected, Eric created a more unified and loving internal system. His shift from trying to outthink depression to feeling and listening to it helped him cultivate a sense of peace and rootedness that continues to guide his path forward.

Softening into the darkness does not mean giving in to it—it means refusing to turn away from ourselves, even when what we see is painful. Eric’s ability to sit with the boulder rather than fight it allowed him to understand what it was protecting, and in doing so, he recovered a part of himself he hadn’t accessed in years.

His story reminds us that we don’t need to fix every flaw or eliminate every difficult emotion. Instead, we can build a new relationship with our suffering—one rooted in tenderness, bravery, and self-respect. The journey may be thorny, but as Eric shows, there is strength in vulnerability and growth in groundedness. We may never be entirely free from depression, but we can become freer in how we carry it.

Ultimately, healing is not a single event, but a daily commitment to show up, soften, and listen. Some days we will still feel heavy. But as Eric reminds us, if we can approach ourselves with grace, we can put the boulder down—at least for a while.

Key Takeaways

  • Healing is a lifelong process. It unfolds in layers, with forward steps, setbacks, and returns. Recovery is not a finish line but a path.
  • Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy can transform self-understanding. By seeing your depression as a part—not your whole—you create space for healing, dialogue, and compassion.
  • Naming and visualizing your depression can help. Eric’s metaphor of a boulder and protector named Atlas allowed him to relate to his pain rather than fear or reject it.
  • Self-compassion can be more effective than self-improvement. Trying to “fix” yourself can deepen shame. Offering grace and patience invites healing.
  • Shame often accompanies depression. Reducing shame starts with acknowledgment, openness, and rejecting toxic narratives about laziness or weakness.
  • Faith and curiosity can replace unreachable hope. When you can’t believe things will get better, wonder what might happen next instead.
  • Letting go of control fosters growth. Just as a sprouting potato seeks soil in all directions, our healing requires rootedness, not perfection.
  • Softening doesn’t mean giving up. It means meeting your pain without resistance. Acceptance is not passivity—it’s courage.
  • We may have to do the work again—and that’s okay. Healing isn’t linear. But each return to the work comes with greater awareness and strength.

If you or someone you love is navigating depression, Eric’s story offers a compassionate lens and gentle encouragement: you don’t have to force your way forward. You can soften into the darkness—and still grow.

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Depression and Terminal Illness: 10 Mental Health Truths from One Patient’s Journey

This article is a comprehensive summary of a heartfelt conversation from the Giving Voice to Depression podcast, hosted by Terry McGuire. In Episode 367, Terry and former co-host Dr. Anita Sanz speak with J.J. Singleton, a 37-year-old colorectal cancer patient who has undergone more than 170 rounds of chemotherapy while battling not only terminal illness—but also the mental health toll that comes with it.

J.J. doesn’t just share his medical story. He shines a light on the emotional and psychological weight of cancer, depression, and masculinity in silence. His vulnerability, honesty, and refusal to isolate his experience makes his story both sobering and deeply inspiring.

Here are 9+ truths J.J. learned about mental health while navigating a terminal diagnosis.

1. Mental Health Is Part of the Cancer Battle

Most people focus on the physical devastation of cancer: the weight loss, hair loss, exhaustion, and invasive treatments. But for J.J., the real war was internal.

As J.J. candidly shared:

The physical part was horrible but what was going on in my head was so much worse. It’s what kept me in bed 22 hours a day for almost a year.

J.J. wasn’t prepared for the depression, PTSD, and anxiety that followed his second cancer diagnosis. He struggled with suicidal thoughts, hopelessness, and feelings of being a burden. His mental health challenges became just as life-threatening as his physical illness.

What made it even harder was that the emotional suffering was invisible. Unlike chemotherapy’s physical toll, no one could see the depth of J.J.’s psychological pain.

2. Silence Around Mental Health—Especially for Men—Is Dangerous

Growing up in the rural South, J.J. says emotional expression wasn’t encouraged—especially for men.

J.J. explained:

I come from a family deep in the South and you know it’s like we’re taught as a man to push it down, you can handle it all yourself — never really taught that but never told it’s okay to express it.

That ingrained belief—that strength means silence—led him to isolate himself during his darkest moments. J.J. had to learn, slowly and painfully, that sharing his emotional experience was not weakness. It was courage. It was life-saving.

Changing the conversation around masculinity and vulnerability is now one of J.J.’s missions. He wants men, especially those facing illness or grief, to know that silence isn’t strength—it’s suffering.

3. Therapy Is Not a Weakness—It’s Survival

Like many, J.J. had misconceptions about therapy.

As J.J. recalled:

All I knew about therapy is what I’d seen in popular culture, to where it was like a running joke where it’s like, “Oh, he needs therapy. He’s crazy. He’s out of his mind. He can’t handle this.”

But after reaching a terrifying low point—lying in bed with a chemo pump and not wanting to wake up—he realized he needed help.

J.J. shared the moment his perspective shifted:

I woke up that next morning and I was terrified. And that’s when I was like, “I got to get help” because I was like, I do not want to put the burden of me taking my own life on my family, all of my friends, because I couldn’t handle it.

Once J.J. began therapy, he learned that therapy isn’t about fixing you—it’s about finding safe space to express what you’re carrying, and help navigating the weight.

4. Admitting You’re Struggling Is the First Step Toward Healing

For J.J., the turning point wasn’t a miracle cure—it was an honest admission to himself and others.

J.J. reflected on how difficult it was to open up:

That was probably one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had — to admit that out loud like instead of just in my head that I was having those thoughts but I didn’t think my life was worth there.

What helped most was realizing he wasn’t alone in his thoughts.

As J.J. added:

They let me know that that’s not uncommon and it does not make me pariah or different or weird or unique or anything… and we can work through that and get me the help that I needed.

Naming his thoughts in the presence of someone who didn’t judge them made all the difference.

5. Connection Heals: Peer Support Is Vital

In addition to therapy, J.J. credits connection with others as essential to his mental wellness.

  • He sought out other cancer survivors who understood.
  • He leaned on friends and family once he stopped hiding his pain.
  • He even found comfort listening to mental health podcasts during chemo sessions—including Giving Voice to Depression.

J.J. emphasized the power of peer relationships:

Meeting really, really important friends that I’ve met that is in this same cancer and traumatic experiences where I can like talk to them and they understand where I’m coming from.

When he shared his burdens, the burdens became lighter.

6. Distraction and Escape Are Powerful Mental Health Tools

When your reality is saturated with suffering, stepping outside of it for even a moment matters.

As J.J. put it:

I was like inside my own head… cancer, death, everything 24/7 all the time. And for me my escape where I first started found that was watching Star Wars. It allowed me to leave this like world with cancer for 30, 45 — an hour a day.

That daily break gave him space to breathe and, eventually, to rebuild. Distraction wasn’t avoidance. It was restoration.

Over time, those tiny moments of mental relief added up to a form of resilience.

7. Being Told ‘You’re Not Alone’ Can Save a Life

What helped J.J. most in therapy wasn’t just advice—it was validation.

J.J. described the impact of being heard:

Just being able to say it out loud, talk on it and understand that I’m not losing my mind thinking those thoughts.

Knowing he wasn’t the only person who’d ever thought about ending his life brought relief. That moment—being seen without judgment—helped reframe his entire outlook.

8. Mental Health Support Should Be Built Into Medical Care

J.J. wasn’t warned about the psychological toll of cancer treatment. If he had been, he believes it would have changed everything.

When Terry asked if it would’ve helped to hear earlier about the mental toll, J.J. responded:

Yes, I would like to see that across the board with newly diagnosed cancer patients.

J.J. elaborated:

If I would have been aware of it, maybe it wouldn’t have blindsided me so much to where I would’ve been already talking about it and kind of just aware is my big thing.

He wants mental health check-ins to become a standard part of care—not an afterthought or a luxury.

9. Fighting for Mental Health Is as Important as Fighting Cancer

Even as a terminal patient, J.J. devotes part of his limited energy to mental health advocacy.

As J.J. explained:

If I’m going to advocate for the cancer part of this, I want to shine a light on the mental health, too, because for me, they’re one and the same. Like I can’t battle one without battling the other.

For J.J., managing his mental health is not optional—it’s essential for endurance.

10. Your Story Can Change a Life—Even If It’s Just One

Why did J.J. come on the podcast? Not to be seen as brave. Not for attention. But for connection.

J.J. shared his hope for impact:

If I could share my story or experiences and it hits one person while they’re laying in bed at night or in the car ride going through thinking they are all alone in these thoughts, that’s everything I want to do.

As Terry eloquently put it:

JJ’s story and spirit and just him, his self needs to get out into the world because “Wow.”

Final Thoughts

J.J. Singleton is living on borrowed time—but he’s using that time wisely. His story isn’t just about survival; it’s about transformation. It’s about letting go of the myth that suffering should be hidden and shouldered alone. And it’s about showing up authentically, even when life hurts.

As Dr. Anita Sanz insightfully noted:

We are mind-body-connected beings. And so if something is affecting us mentally and emotionally, it’s also likely going to have an impact on our physical health and abilities. And the reverse is also true.

There’s profound wisdom in J.J.’s journey: that it’s okay to admit pain, okay to ask for help, and okay to find purpose even when the future is uncertain. His voice adds to the growing movement that insists mental health matters—especially when we’re at our most vulnerable.

Key Takeaways

To recap, here are the most important mental health lessons from J.J. Singleton’s story:

Therapy is not a last resort; it’s a life-saving tool.
Talking to a professional can provide relief, clarity, and validation—especially when emotions feel too heavy to carry alone.

Depression can accompany physical illness—and must be treated too.
The emotional toll of cancer can be just as devastating as the physical. Addressing both is essential.

Talking about suicidal thoughts can release their power.
Speaking fears out loud in a safe space helps reduce their intensity and opens the door to healing.

You don’t need hundreds of supporters—just a few who understand.
Peer support, even from just one person who “gets it,” can be life-changing.

Distraction and simple joys, like movies or books, can offer real relief.
Creating mental escapes, even for an hour a day, can make survival feel more possible.

Real strength is in reaching out, not muscling through.
Vulnerability is not weakness—it’s wisdom and self-preservation.

Masculinity must make room for emotional expression.
Silence can be fatal. Men need to know it’s okay to talk about their struggles.

Mental health care should be a standard part of medical treatment.
Patients deserve to be informed about and supported through the psychological effects of illness.

Your story has the power to change lives—maybe even save one.
Sharing lived experience can help someone feel seen, heard, and less alone.

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Postpartum Depression: Natasha’s 8 Insights to Navigate the Journey and Find Healing

The joy and anticipation surrounding the arrival of a new baby are often painted as an idyllic experience. However, for many new mothers, the reality can be a stark contrast, marked by profound sadness, anxiety, and a sense of overwhelm. This is the reality of postpartum depression (PPD), a complex and often misunderstood condition that affects countless individuals. In a recent episode of Giving Voice to Mental Health by Recovery.com, Natasha bravely shared her journey with postpartum depression and anxiety, shedding light on the importance of seeking help and breaking down the stigma associated with mental health challenges.

1. The Unexpected Arrival and the Onset of Fear

Natasha’s first pregnancy, in late 2018, was filled with excitement and meticulous preparation. She proactively attended parenting courses, took notes, and even had her hospital bag packed months in advance. Yet, the early arrival of her son, a month ahead of schedule, immediately introduced an element of fear. “Especially being my first pregnancy, I didn’t know any of the signs of what’s normal and what’s abnormal,” Natasha recounted. This initial fear, coupled with the whirlwind of a rapid delivery and discharge, laid the groundwork for what she initially dismissed as “baby blues.”

However, the “baby blues” lingered and intensified. The transition from a highly independent career woman in accounting for 14 years to a stay-at-home mother was a significant life change that compounded her struggles. Despite all her preparations, she quickly realized that the “playbook” for parenting didn’t exist. “You can read all the books you want, but once that baby is here, it is like day by day,” she explained. A constant fear permeated her days: “Am I doing this right? I gotta make sure the baby’s safe.” This fear became a persistent companion, hinting at a deeper struggle than mere adjustment to motherhood.

2. Recognizing the Subtle, Yet Powerful, Symptoms

Initially, Natasha didn’t connect her symptoms to what her doula had educated her and her husband about regarding postpartum depression. She rationalized her feelings, telling herself she was “too much in [her] head” and “overthinking.” Despite her husband’s diligent check-ins, she would often claim to be fine, only to find herself crying while making a bottle or grappling with “constant thoughts of something bad happening to my child,” even when he was perfectly safe beside her.

These internal struggles went unaddressed for four months until they reached a breaking point. One evening, she “just like lost it on [her] husband,” an outburst that left him confused and hurt. This moment of intense emotional distress served as a stark realization that “something’s not right here.” She retreated to the bathroom, crying for hours, and ultimately, penned an email to her husband, acknowledging her struggle and the need to “speak to somebody.”

Natasha’s experience highlights the insidious nature of PPD, where symptoms can be subtle and easily dismissed, especially by the individual experiencing them. She grappled with a sense of pride, telling herself, “No, that’s you being weak and why are you feeling sad? You have no reason to be sad and your baby’s fine. Everything’s fine.” This internal battle between the reality of her feelings and the perceived weakness of admitting them is a common thread in many PPD journeys.

Explore depression treatment options.

3. The Influence of Family History and Cultural Stigma

Natasha’s reluctance to acknowledge her struggles was deeply rooted in her family history and cultural upbringing. Depression ran in her family, but it was often masked by unhealthy coping mechanisms like drug and alcohol addiction, domestic violence, and gambling. “No one really dealt with their problems in a healthy way,” she observed. This exposure led her to develop a keen interest in psychology, driven by a desire to understand why her parents struggled and why her family couldn’t recover like others she knew.

Despite her knowledge of mental health issues within her family, Natasha still believed she was immune. “I still told myself, well no, I’m fine. It’s not going to affect me ’cause I’m not, you know, I’m not drinking or doing drugs or whatever. I’m fine. I got healthy habits,” she asserted. This “ego thing,” as she put it, convinced her she was “too strong for postpartum depression.”

The stigma surrounding mental health in the Black community further complicated her journey. “In the black community as a whole, you didn’t go to therapy, you didn’t seek counseling because that was for crazy people,” she shared. Mental health challenges were often swept under the rug, to be prayed about or simply endured in silence. This ingrained cultural norm made the idea of seeking professional help feel foreign and even shameful.

4. The Courage to Seek Unbiased Help: Therapy as a Turning Point

Despite the ingrained resistance, Natasha’s breaking point led her to consider therapy. Her husband, armed with the knowledge from their doula, suggested reaching out for connections to therapists. What followed was a profound shift in her perspective.

“I started to realize that no, that it’s okay to go speak to someone who’s unbiased,” Natasha stated. Though nervous about the unknown – whether she would connect with the therapist, the types of questions she would be asked, and the vulnerability of revealing her deepest struggles – she felt a sense of relief. Her first session was transformative. “Right away I felt connected to her and I felt relief. I was like, oh, finally off my chest, I’m talking to someone.”

Therapy became a weekly lifeline, a space where she could unload the heavy burden she had been carrying. It was a place to be heard, a crucial element in her healing process. The therapist’s insightful question, “Are you sure you haven’t always been depressed?” resonated deeply, prompting Natasha to connect the dots between her current struggles and repressed childhood trauma. This realization was a turning point, revealing that her postpartum depression was intertwined with deeper, long-standing emotional wounds.

5. Unpacking Childhood Trauma and Embracing the Healing Journey

Through therapy, Natasha began to unearth repressed memories from her childhood, revealing the roots of her fear, anxiety, and the feeling of not being able to keep her baby safe. Her parents’ struggles with addiction and the tumultuous environment she grew up in had left lasting imprints. “I felt like I couldn’t really express what I was going through, like the constant worrying, the overthinking and just being afraid,” she recalled, echoing the sentiment of her past experiences where “no one really cares what you’re going through, so just deal with it.”

Therapy helped her understand that her constant worry about her child’s safety was deeply connected to her own childhood trauma and the fear of repeating past mistakes. This profound insight allowed her to shed the shame she had carried, particularly the feeling of being “ungrateful” for her blessings while experiencing sadness. “It was, I was even confused,” she admitted, grappling with the disconnect between her seemingly good life and her internal turmoil.

Natasha’s journey through therapy taught her that healing is not a destination but an ongoing process. “It’s a journey,” she emphasized. While she initially believed she was “healed” after initial counseling, triggering conversations and external experiences continued to uncover new areas for growth. “It probably will take the rest of your life from healing,” she acknowledged, but stressed the concept of “different stages” of healing, where she can now reflect on past traumas without spiraling into emotional distress.

6. Transforming Motherhood and Embracing a Healthier Future

As a result of therapy, Natasha’s relationship with herself and her child began to transform. She became “less afraid day by day,” developing a newfound trust in her ability to keep her baby safe. She also became more mindful of the content she consumed, recognizing how negative information could trigger her anxieties. The process enabled her to “relax and be more loving to my child.”

The true testament to her healing came with her second pregnancy, eight months prior to the podcast. This time, her experience was “so much better.” While she still experienced moments of sadness, she was able to recognize them and identify the triggers, such as consuming excessive sad content. Her proactive approach, armed with the techniques learned in therapy and a greater awareness of her emotional responses during pregnancy, made all the difference.

“I’m able, like, I feel a lot better. I’m not having the same amount of like sadness as I was the first time around,” she proudly shared. She now has a repertoire of healthy coping mechanisms, including music, adult coloring, exercise, and open communication with her husband. This proactive self-care has allowed her to navigate the challenges of new motherhood with greater resilience and joy.

7. A Champion for Seeking Help: Breaking the Silence

Natasha’s story serves as a powerful call to action for other mothers struggling with postpartum depression and anxiety. Her most fervent advice is to “ask for help” and to not let pride or guilt stand in the way of seeking support. “Don’t feel guilty for taking care of yourself. ’cause it’s like, mom guilt is a very real thing,” she cautioned.

She emphasizes the abundance of resources available, urging individuals not to be afraid to speak to someone if they are experiencing unusual anxiety, sadness, constant crying, or fear. For Natasha, the biggest regret was not knowing about these resources sooner and allowing the stigma to prevent her from seeking help. The “little voice” in the back of her head, fueled by societal and familial norms, told her to “just pray to God about it. Go have a glass of wine, you’ll be okay.”

Natasha is now a passionate advocate for counseling and therapy, especially within communities where it remains taboo. While she acknowledges the financial barriers and the challenge of finding the right therapist, she strongly encourages persistence. “Keep trying ’cause don’t give up,” she advises, emphasizing the critical importance of addressing mental health challenges before they fester and lead to deeper regret.

8. Recognizing the Nuances of Postpartum Symptoms

Recognizing PPD symptoms can be particularly challenging for new mothers, as many overlap with the normal adjustments of having a newborn. Natasha highlights key indicators:

  • Neglecting self and isolating: New moms might find themselves not showering, eating, or engaging with others, even when people reach out.
  • Extreme bouts of crying: Crying frequently and for seemingly no reason, especially if it’s uncharacteristic.
  • Constant negativity: A pervasive negative outlook on life that is uncharacteristic of the individual.
  • Changes in sleep patterns: Sleeping more or less than usual, even beyond the typical sleep deprivation of new parenthood.

Natasha stresses that it’s often easier for loved ones to recognize when someone is “not themselves” rather than trying to memorize a list of symptoms. Partners, family, and friends who know the individual well are often the first to notice subtle shifts in behavior or mood.

It is also important to remember that postpartum depression exists on a spectrum, from mild to severe, and in rare cases, can escalate to postpartum psychosis, a severe mental illness requiring immediate medical attention. Natasha underscores the importance of professional guidance to understand the specific type and severity of symptoms.

Natasha’s story is a powerful testament to the reality of postpartum depression and the profound impact of seeking help. Her journey, from initial denial and fear to embracing therapy and advocating for mental health awareness, offers invaluable insights and hope for countless new mothers. By bravely sharing her experience, she encourages others to break the silence, challenge ingrained stigmas, and prioritize their mental well-being, recognizing that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, but an act of profound strength and self-love. If you or someone you know is struggling with postpartum depression, remember that resources and support are available, and healing is possible.