Tag: hope

Moving Forward

I have had friends that have struggled with addiction and/alcoholism through the years. And since I know it’s a disease, I stand by them. What do you need? You got this! I’m here for you! It always seemed so completely heartless when someone they loved abandoned them. How could they not be there for them in their time of need? Don’t they see they are trying to be well? Then, I was that loved one.

I once dated someone who was a recovering alcoholic. I met him after his rock bottom. I met him into his walk of sobriety. He told me about when he came back after getting sober. His wife had a function planned, and they were serving wine. He served wine. I was shocked at the insensitivity she had. Why wouldn’t she cancel the function? Why would she let there be alcohol there when she KNEW he was trying to be sober?

Why? Because she had years but having to cancel things or put her life on hold. Because he’s lied about his drinking before and this was just one more time he was going to disrupt her world. Because the rest of the world didn’t see what she had to live with, day after day, so this wasn’t anything new. She was tired. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care. He had siphoned all of the worry and care out of her for years and years. She just wanted to live life. She didn’t trust or believe him. She was done.

Did he need support? Absolutely. And he found in friends and family. And I’m sure she’s glad he did. He’s doing well. She’s doing well.

When alcoholism hit my family, I started going to a support group. The first thing they told me was to detach with love. Let go of control. I read the following, “today, if I am tempted to interfere what’s something that is none of my business, I can turn my attention instead to some way in which I can take care of myself.”

I disagreed with them. I am not controlling. In fact, I am pretty out of control most of the time. Detach with love? But he needs me! Now seems like the WORST time to detach! They told me that he needed to be in control of his sobriety. Not me. I had to let go. I could support and love, but I needed to stop doing things for him.

The next day I started to get his stuff together and thought, no, he needs to. It’s just paper work. He can grab it himself. Then later I went to text him to ask if he made his appointment…no. He needs to. Then I googled local AA meetings…no. he needs to do it. Oh my gosh. Beth. STOP.

I looked at the bills I had organized, the budget I made for him. I looked at the cleaning supplies I got to bring to his house to clean with. I realized that I am his enabler. I just keep bailing him out. He needs to do it. But how? How do you look at someone you love and just step aside? When you know they won’t do it themselves, and you want to help?

“If they don’t want to be well, they won’t be. And there’s no amount of ‘doing it for them’ that will bring them there.” Ouch.

So I read up on codependency. I was the victim role. Always the victim of my alcoholic. And if I wanted any chance at all of us being healthy, I had to stop putting myself in positions that made me the victim. So, I tried to detach with love. I tried to be supportive and ask about his journey. And I waited or the deep talks and healing to begin. I was ready to work on me while he worked on himself.

What I wasn’t ready for was the backlash that came. If I asked about his sobriety, his house, his family, I was immediately met with anger and rage. Accusations of me being on drugs. Reminders of how I abandoned him. Screaming and cussing at me. And my response, to give it right back. That was our cycle: attack, defend, yell, repeat. It was way harder than I anticipated. I can be pretty mean. I know the low blows. And all the years of working on me, went out the door every time we had an arguement. I could feel the toxicity seeping out of me. I hate that side of me.

There was one day I went out to help with yard work. I immediately felt the impulse to “look for evidence”. Just like I had done years before. I didn’t trust he was sober. So I started looking around. Then I stopped. Is this what I want? To always feel like I need to check the hiding spots to “catch” him? No. I can’t. I don’t have the energy. He lies. A lot. He sneaks. A lot. As do most alcoholics. And I can’t “snoop” my way into trust. This is something he has to do. I am not a victim of him. He is a victim of his addiction.

So I stopped asking. I stopped responding with anything more than a “that’s too bad” or “I’m happy for you”. Slowly I started noticing being treated differently by him. And things dissolved.

It’s not about love. It’s not about not wanting someone well. It’s about awareness of your own part in toxicity and not participating. If you see someone working on sobriety or being clean, BE THERE FOR THEM. I can’t stress that enough. They need their family and friends. But just know, that person that “abandoned” them? They had to walk away. Because they were probably in a place where neither could heal with the other there. Every week I share with my therapist something I wanted to say and didn’t. Or something I shouldn’t have said, but did. I talk through why I wanted to say it, and why I didn’t. I feel like a toddler learning to walk. A bit wobbly. And when I fall, I stand back up.

We don’t talk about money. Be poor privately please.

Why are the poor poor? Not how did they become poor, but why are they still poor. Have you ever ask yourself that? If you are, or have been, you know why.

Based on the posts I see on social media, the reason is, because that person is either: lazy, entitled, or makes poor choices. Are there lazy and entitled people? Sure there are. But I guarantee 99% of poor people work 10 times as hard as a financially stable person. Their life depends on it. And there are a lot of people that make poor choices, I being one of them. But unless your poor choice is gambling away your family savings or working for the mob, most poor people’s bad choices are buying a pair of jeans or going out for drinks. Not quite what I would consider worthy of a lifetime struggle to provide for your family.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I’m a poor person trying very hard to obtain what others tell me I could get if I just worked harder. I’m trying reach that goal you told me I’m not entitled to, that I have to work for. What is that goal? To have a place to live of my own and to be able to feed my children and pay my bills without worry or anxiety.

I receive SNAP. Because I’m below the poverty line. Does that make you uncomfortable? If you don’t know me I’m sure it doesn’t. If you know me personally I’m sure you feel quite uncomfortable knowing that about me. I once had a family member harass me on a Facebook post. He was convinced that the reason I am struggling HAS TO BE because I deserve it. I’m an entitled millennial who wants everything handed to me. I deleted him off my Facebook and had myself a good cry. Where has he been the last 10 years? I am not a quiet person. I do not bottle things inside. I am very honest and open about the good and the bad in my life. Why is my struggle making him so angry? It’s my struggle. I’m not angry. I love sharing my struggle so that others can know and feel hopeful. He was legitimately angry. Zero compassion.

Then someone said something to me that put it in perspective. “Of course he is angry. And of course he is blaming you. Because if he admits you’ve done everything you were supposed to and you are a good person, and are still suffering, then he would have to also admit that he stood by as you suffered for years and never offered you a hand of help.”

Holy crap. I used to always wonder why we didn’t talk about money. From a young age it was instilled in me that you never ask how much someone makes. And you don’t talk about how much you make. I remember asking, why we can’t talk about it. I was told it was because people that don’t make as much might get jealous and angry. It was to protect those who deserve their income from people who didn’t deserve it and wanted it.

Poor people don’t care if you know how much they make. I’ve had perfect strangers mention how much their check was in casual conversation. Poor people are not uncomfortable with talking about money. Whatevs. I’m broke but I needed some Chipotle. See, every single thing we do revolves around money. Like, if I buy the good toilet paper, will I have the gas to get my kids to school? Which bill can I be late on so I can replace my kids ripped school pants? We’re not handling our money with our sights set on vacation spots or the best investments. We’re trying to find a way to make sure we don’t have to eat peanut butter and jelly or cereal for dinner for the next week.

You know what would save me a lot of money? Being able to buy a house. My entire life has been at a standstill for the last year because the house I live in is unlivable. If I move my rent will be double to triple what it is now. It is not possible.

Poor people can’t buy houses. Not because they can’t afford them. Because the system is set up in a way to keep them poor.

I do not have a great credit score. To even have a chance at obtaining a mortgage I need 10% down. So let’s say I work for that goal. The houses in my area that I would be ideal for my family are about $150,000. But I don’t need ideal. I’m sure if I looked around and waited I could find something that makes do for about $100,000. So I need $10,000 to buy a house. With my current income I know I could save $100 a month. So that means in 8 years I could buy a house. If I lived extra poor I could probably save $200 a month. Then I could buy a house in 4 years. Do you see the problem? That means I still have to live in this shithole house with my four children until they are raised.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I can save $500 a month. That’s only a year and a half. Buuuuuut. I receive Food Stamps. About $500 a month. And the second my assets exceed $2,250, I do not qualify anymore. So 5 months in, I wouldn’t be able to afford to save anymore. (2 years into my 8, 1 year onto my 4).

Why are the poor poor? Because unless someone steps in and knocks down the societal hurdles, we don’t have a choice. Why do poor people buy lottery tickets? Because there’s a better chance of winning the money to help pull them out of poverty than there is to do it by hard work. Why do the poor buy cups of coffee and get tattoos instead of saving? Because what’s the point? Do you have any idea how helpless that feeling is? Then you feel guilty and ashamed when judgmental eyes look at your $50 tattoo and tell you that THAT is the reason you and your children deserve to suffer. You feel like you need to justify the $10 Goodwill Coach purse you carry because others see it and believe you’re exaggerating your circumstance. You’re either lying, or deserve it.

The rich want to believe that the poor are poor because they deserve it. Because if they acknowledged what it really is, they also have to admit that they’re okay with thriving while others are unfairly suffering. And that makes them uncomfortable. So it’s easier to just blame.

I am poor. My kids play sports, go to a private school, have new clothes and shoes at the beginning of the school year, and none of it was provided by me. Because I have people in my life that saw the value of my children and said, “I want to help”. My eyes swell up with tears when I think about what I would do if I didn’t have kind people in my life. Because I know you’re out there. All you that are suffering without a support system. I want to help you so bad. I want somebody to help you. I feel your pain, I feel your anxiety. I am so sorry we live in a country where you are demonized and told you deserve to suffer. You do not deserve to suffer. Your kids do not deserve to suffer. You deserve so mich better than this.

Why are the poor poor? If you are not poor, you need to be okay with being uncomfortable and do something. You need to stop blaming and start asking how you can help. Perpetual poverty happens when you can’t afford the necessities. Do you feel the Necessities in life a privilege or a right? Do you believe that someone’s financial circumstance equates their worth? Your complacency is hurting people.

Some people are more equal than others.

Ideas are like seeds being planted in your mind. We don’t always have control of the seeds that are throw to us, but we do have control of the soil. In this way, we get to decide how our garden will grow. Manicured and simple. Full of poison and thorns. Wild and unknown. A labyrinth. Filled with food. We decide based on what we pull out and what we nurture. How much effort we’re willing to put in and the people we put ourselves around, who are throwing seeds. How acidic the soil is, and what trees we have growing from the past. Try as you might, the soil below a large pine will not allow you to grow certain plants below it.

A couple weeks ago I saw a post on Facebook. My Facebook is pretty diverse when it comes to religion, politics, and life choices. So very often I see things I don’t agree with. So that was no surprise. What has surprised me is how much I keep thinking about it. See, I have been spending a lot of time lately pulling weeds. Uprooting trees. I have been working on my soil to help things grow. That seed that was planted? That seed has been thrown on my soil before. But it dried up. So when I saw it thrown my direction again, I anticipated the same result. But my soil isn’t the same. My soil is rich with nutrients. And that seed took root and is growing. So now I’m forced to acknowledge this plant growing. I have to decide whether to pull it up or water it.

“We must do away with the absolutely specious notion that everybody has to earn a living….” Buckminster Fuller

The post I read was the full quote. But within the first sentence I knew I disagreed. I’m a hard worker, and I was raised to take pride in my work. You don’t work you don’t eat. The story of The Ant and the Grasshopper made a brief appearance in my mind. You cannot live your life playing and then expect those working to support you. Teaching a man to fish verses giving him a fish.

“We keep inventing jobs because of this false idea that everybody has to be employed at some kind of drudgery. Because, according to Malthusian-Darwinian theory, he must justify his right to exist.”

Justify his right to exist? I wouldn’t go that far. And we may invent some jobs, but I would say we Americans spend more time creating more “all ready invented” jobs. During our last election this was a huge thing. With the worry of unemployment and layoffs, I heard a LOT of people talking about job creation. There aren’t enough jobs and people need to work to support their families.

I also thought about work ethic. Working a less-than-desirable job definitely gives you appreciation for hard work and a lot of humility. If people didn’t work, how would they experience the struggle that has helped me form into who I am? What do they say about Idle Hands?

Then I started thinking about if I had my necessities met. Just my necessities. A place to live, food to eat, heating/cooling and electric, and health care for my children and me. What would I be doing? I would be home with my kids. I would be homeschooling them. I would have a chore chart. I would be maintaining a garden and teaching my kids with hands on lessons of cooking and animals and science experiments. I would still be working, but not as much. And the money I made from work would be invested in my kids, our home, and myself. The money would be used for house repairs, a vehicle, internet access, and travel. I would take another trip to do humanitarian work. I would take art classes. I would do more with theatre. I would read more. I would learn a language with my kids (they have been begging for us to all learn German as a family). I would help my kids learn what they love. What their gifts are. What their passion is.

Quick detour. Have you ever met someone and thought, how are you so successful? Like, they really have nothing to offer. Mediocre intelligence. Very limited world view. No talent. And yet, they are making over 10X what you make. I remember one guy in particular. He was always so impressed by how smart I seemed “considering I don’t have a degree.” He would tell me, “If you went to college, you could be way more successful. You have so much potential! It’s sad you’re working at a coffee shop when you could probably do my job better than me, ha!”

We all have different goals. My goal is not wealth. Rags to Riches stories, while interesting, don’t motivate me. While I appreciate my material things, they are disposable. I asked myself, if I had my needs met, what would be something I would work extra for in order to obtain? Travel. Art. Learning new things. Humanitarian work.

What if our needs were met. Just the basic ones. We would still have those who wanted to be rich. We would still have those who were lazy. We would still have to work. The difference is, we would be allowed to decide. If you wanted a huge house and lots if things, you could choose to work more. If you decide you would rather live modestly so you could be home with your kids, you could do that. But what about the freeloaders who wont work? Well. If they want that kind of poor, meaningless life, so be it. What does it matter to you? I mean, I’m not talking steak dinners and mansions. Food in the cupboard, a warm house, and freedom from/treatment for disease just means the rest of society is protected.

What would happen if those with actual talent could explore it? What would happen if all that “potential” could be met? What would happen if someone’s intelligence outweighed someone’s financial circumstance?

What would happen? We would thrive. Good parents would still instill work ethic in their children. Bad parents would still neglect it. Caring people would still want to help others. Selfish people would still take all they can get. The difference is, we would all have a choice. Ask a poor person if they have a choice right now. Ask them how many jobs they work and what they have to sacrifice so their kids don’t starve. Ask them about how expensive it is to be poor.

I am not against capitalism. I want our inventors to invent. I want our artists to create. I want every person to be able to listen to that gift they have and embrace it. We are all given certain passions inside of us. Animals. Children. Writing. Botany. Technology. Music. Cars. Every single person has something that pumps them up for life.

“The true business of people should be to go back to school and think about whatever it was they were thinking about before someone came along and told them they had to earn a living.”

How different things would be if we ran our Healthcare System and education system like a non-profit. If no one could get rich off the sick. If the poor had the same educational opportunities as the rich without having to join the military. If every family knew they had a house, electric, and food.

I can’t count the amount of times in my life I have said, “pull yourself up by your bootstraps”. Then, when the time came in my life that I needed to practice what I preached, I reach down for my boot straps only to find that someone found a way to make money off boot straps and had hiked the price up to make money off of my struggle.

We have been taught that the poor deserve their lot in life. And that the rich deserve their wealth. Why? Because admitting that the poor don’t have a choice and that we’re allowing others to profit off their suffering is a hard pill to swallow. We have to admit that while we say all are equal, we have been conditioned to feel superior to the poor. We have been told our stability is earned by hard work and therefore the poor must be lazy. If we acknowledge how much of an advantage having our basic needs met makes, then we are faced a choice. Continue to treat the poor as inferior, or work for change and equality. The seeds have been planted. You decide if you will let them grow.

Hi. I am Beth. And I’m a toxic person.

One of my favorite things that social media and technology has brought to my generation is its ability to help us cope, understand, and process dysfunction and toxicity that is in our lives. I see it all the time. People in my age group properly able to identify unhealthy behavior in themselves and in others. That doesn’t mean they necessarily know how to deal with it, but they can identify it. Which is a huge step.

A few weeks back I had a friend say to me, “I feel like I’m gaslighting them! I didn’t even realize I was doing it. They deserve better than that.” My friend was 100% serious and concerned about it. The self awareness this person has in their 30s is astounding to me. They are toxic. They know they are. And they are able to zero in on exactly what they are doing that is dysfunctional, and even tell me why they think they are like this. 

I am a toxic person. I have the potential to suck out all the life of a person. I can manipulate. I can read people and very quickly know what they are insecure about. I can sense vulnerability and dysfunction like a freaking superpower. I can also tell when a person is emotionally healthy. I can feel boundaries that are set (or not set) almost immediately after meeting someone. My comfort zone is filled with toxic interactions and unhealthy behaviors. 

I sound like a gem, eh? Well, I think I am. Not because that stuff doesn’t matter. Because I fight that stuff EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Ask anyone who knew me in my 20s. Talk to my exes. I was not a bad person. But I was broken. The adult I was trying to be was not one on a healthy path. It was one who used white lies, cheated, and manipulated to get my way. I didn’t want to be like that. I did not like seeing the ones I loved hurt by me. 

I started seeing a therapist. I started making a conscious effort. I had to learn how to purge the toxicity from my interactions. It sucked. It was hard. No…not was. It is hard. I find when I’m with other people working on themselves, or people that are emotionally stable, it is easy. I can relax and just be. But the moment someone with dysfunction enters my life, I want to retreat to my ever so toxic comfort zone. I can feel it. I can hear it in what I say. I leave feeling angry at myself. Ashamed. 

I like to cut people in their 20s some slack. That decade is such a shit hole anyways. Add in having to process through childhood/adolescence and you’re left with some pretty lost adults who are trying to sort through 2 decades of preparation for adulthood. It’s exhausting and can be overwhelming. But once you’re in your 30s, get your shit together. You have had over a decade of making your own choices. At this point, your life is what you have made it. Acknowledge what you’ve been through and grow. 

I am a toxic person. I have to know this always. I have to understand and be compassionate to those who distance themselves from me. I have to work 10x as hard to make sure I keep my toxicity from my children. I need to make sure my children find dysfunction uncomfortable and wrong. I have to make sure I guard myself from others who take me by the hand and try to lead me down to that place I’ve escaped from. I need to acknowledge what brought me to this point, but not dwell on it, blame does not add to my growth. I need to know that when I do slip up, I tell whoever I hurt I was wrong and they deserve better. 

If you are a toxic person, you are not a bad person. Every day, every interaction, you have a choice to do better, to be better. Find a therapist. (I know I know, therapist shopping is the WORST. But don’t settle for one that isn’t helping you.) Start working on rewiring yourself. Your life will be happier. Your relationships will be better. You will thrive. 

Bringing it down to the Basics

It was 2011. I was newly divorced, in school full time, working as many hours as I could get, and raising 3 kids. Looking back, it’s almost comical that I thought I could have an organized house as well. 

“What do you need?” My friend Kris asked me. She had come over with the intention to clean/organize/help. I was drowning in my life and I desperately needed someone to throw me a lifesaver. 

“I don’t know. I mean. I guess the toys. I can’t think because there is so much everywhere. The toys go there. Top drawer is dolls. Second is dress up. Bottom draws is everything else. I don’t know. They’re all mixed up.” I told her showing her my organizer. “And art stuff goes here. Paper in this drawer, crayons and markers in this one, and the other stuff in that one.”

“No. That’s too much. You need to simplify it. How about toys here, and art stuff here.”

“But. Everything has a place. I just…”

“What a your goal? What do you want in here?”

“I want the toys off the floor. I want to walk through my house without stepping on stuff.”

“Beth. The girls can help. They need to. You can’t do it all, so we need to find a way that is simple. So the kids can do it.”

I had to let go of some control. Here’s the thing, (for those who don’t know how it is to function with ADHD) I have to be that uptight about things. Chaos around me gives anxiety. I forget things. I lose things. Everything has a place, because otherwise, nothing has a place. 

So I changed the rules. Instead if having such strong stipulations on where the kids put the toys, I just made sure they were put away. It worked. The kids didn’t feel overwhelmed with helping. So I started simplifying other aspects of my life. 

Sorting socks? Nope. I don’t have time. My goal is to have clean socks when we need them. Boom. New rule, sock basket. All the clean socks in the house are in there. Find your own. While thes things were not ideal for my house, I found the amount of stress that was lifted was definitely worth letting go. 

Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed, I like to bring it down the the basics. Not forever, just for long enough to gain some perspective. Not just with household chores, but with friendships, parenting, work, and everything else. 

Parenting. What is the goal? I’m sure your response would be something about love, or God, or kindness, or being strong or something like that. No. Those are not the goals. Those are the personal details you have set for what are actually the goals. 

There are 2 things your kid needs from you. Two. Taking it to The basics. These 2 things are the backbone of why you make any and all decisions regarding your kids. And if they’re not, you need to reevaluate your motives in parenting.

The first, let them keep their innocence as long as possible. We protect them from the horrors of the world so that they can develop into who they are truly meant to be. Life has a way of hardening us. Our children need to keep the tenderness, and awe for life and the world as long as possible.

The second, produce functional adults. Our children need to be able live and function in society someday. We cannot shelter them forever. They need to be able to socialize. They need to be able to work a job. They need to be able to keep themselves safe when you’re not there. They need to be able to think and make choices. 
These goals sound contradictory. You can see why teenage years are so tough. Constantly trying to balance protecting our teen while at the same time knowing in a few short years they need to be able to function in the world. 

Now, what is your definition of innocence? What do you consider a functioning adult? This is where our parenting styles come into play. We make choices every day with these in mind. “No, sorry, Sally isn’t allowed to sleep over until she’s older.” Or “Rinse your bowl.” Or “Sure, Jimmy can definitely go out with his friends after the game.” Based on our childhoods, usually, we decide what we will or will not do with our kids. 

If you are an overwhelmed parent, bring it to the basics. Ask yourself, is this helping them keep their innocence or helping them develop into a functioning adult? If it doesn’t fit one of those 2 things, quit fretting about it. Quit being angry about it. Quit wearing yourself down over it. 

Someday I will sort socks again. And you know what? The toys in my house are now sorted. The art stuff all has a place. It took 7 years, but I got it back slowly. Just because it’s not ideal, doesn’t mean it’s bad. My house is a disaster. Why? Because I want the kids to help clean. And honestly, they don’t do a great job. My kids need a mom who helps show them. Not a mom who yells and shames them. 

You know what your kids need. You know what type of adult you hope they become (or possibly one you don’t want them to become). Have a little faith in yourself. Take a deep breathe, and let go. 

How a Celebrity Can Make a Lady Cry

A year ago, I sat crying, absolutely stunned to hear that Robin Williams had taken his life. It was surreal. I had never cried over a celebrity before. I mean, there were others I had felt heartbroken about passing, and even ones that stopped me in my tracks with the shock of the news. But tears of grief, to me, we’re saved for losing my loved ones. Robin Williams. Dead. It shook me. I felt like he WAS one of my loved ones. I sat with my (then) fiancé, and talked about him for hours. I kept saying, “He wouldn’t have done this if he knew how much he was loved! How could he not know? How could someone that amazing not see all he did for people??”

Here’s the thing. I saw so much of myself in him, I KNEW I was going to meet him. I knew he would get me. I’m not delusional, I know I’m a single mom of 3 kids. But there was a part of me that thought, the universe will definitely throw us together at some point. It had to! People like us are magnets. We find eachother.

I was surprised with myself. All the stages of grief so prevalent. I have never met this man, and I am by no means a superfan. I haven’t seen half the movies he was in. I wanted to write about him. I wanted to write about all the inspiration he gave me, all the wisdom, all the life changing things he did for me. But I had nothing to say. So many others could articulate who he was, what he did, and what he left behind, so much better than I ever could. He was just a guy I heard about, liked, admired, and was excited for the day I would be able to meet him.

“Wow Bethy. This is a great post about someone you didn’t know dying, and how you were sad.” Of course, there is more. (C’mon, there is always more.)

Robin Williams dying was months before my dad and brother died. I was in a wonderfully awesome point in life. Work was great. Summer was spectacular. Life was good. His death stopped me in my tracks. I knew depression. I had felt hopelessness. My stomach turned at the thought of how he felt in his last moments. I thought about when I was that low. When I planned my own suicide. I knew how I was going to do it. I knew when I wanted to do it. I even had written a few notes. Do you want to know why I didn’t do it? It wasn’t for me. It wasn’t that I woke up one day and got motivated to “improve my life”. It was because I knew I was needed. I knew I was all my daughters had. I couldn’t give them that grief on top of everything else. So, I made an agreement with myself. I would raise them, and then have an accident. I would just wait it out.

Who thinks like that? My mind was made up. I was a shell of a person. People would tell me what a great mother I was. How strong I was. What an inspiration I was. I would smile and say thanks. They were empty words. My life was a waste. I had no purpose. My vision of myself had turned from passion and excitement, to despair and regret.  There were no words that could snap me out of it. I was a joke to most, and a burden to the rest. Then, my mom looked at me and said, “You need to get your shit together. You have 3 little girls looking to you. You cannot abandon them.”

That’s when I realized, I can’t just survive long enough. They are watching me. While I sit on the couch, staring at the wall. While I cry and just let them run around the house making messes. When I say no to going to the park because I’m too tired to even move. They are watching, and waiting to know what to do. So, I went to my doctor.

So back to Robin Williams. He took his life. Something in him said, “All those people that are telling you that you are great are lying. No one needs you. You are wasting space. You’re just surviving life, and you are a shell of a person.” Because that’s what depression tells you. You see the life you live. You think about how you got there. You wonder how different it could be “if…” And then you realize this isn’t the life you’d thought you would have and give up.

I went to my doctor. I was open to antidepressants, and asked my doctor to just fix me. My doctor decided to check my vitamin levels and found I was completely deficient on D3. Within a week of taking her recommend dose, I was feeling like me again. I almost killed myself because Michigan doesn’t get enough sunlight. My kids almost lost their mother, because I didn’t want to bother a doctor with my problems. My parents almost had to bury their daughter, because I was missing a vitamin….a VITAMIN. I owe my life to that woman.

If you know anyone that is depressed, your “positive words” won’t help. Your avoiding them, will make it worse. You need to tell them, “You are needed. You need to get your shit together. Let’s get you help.” I am thankful for my mom, my daughters, and for the doctor who helped me. We all hear that suicide is the most selfish thing you can do. But that’s the thing, when you’re faced with it, it seems like the most generous thing you can do.