My Wish 

What do you have to be sorry for,

What is so sad about your life,

Why are you in pain?

Don’t bug me with your problems,

I’m tired of your clouded rain.


I don’t want to see your scars,

Shield me with happy thoughts,

Who talks about such fears?

How dare you make me feel for your plentitude,

I’m livid with your endless whining and tears.


Still Alive, So what,

So am I, Just get up and breathe,

How can that be so hard…

But oh…I didn’t know

Living in your brain was such Hell.


I’m glad you are Still Alive; Stay Alive




Posted in Anxiety, Corporate, daughter, depression, family, friends, Health, major depressive disorder, mental illness, motherhood, OCD, perfectionism, predjudice, PTSD, recovery, stigma, suicide, suicide attempt survivor, Therapy, Uncategorized, work | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Day That Remains Unnamed

I remember being cold and that it was dark but not so dark that I couldn’t see what was happening. There was a light, that’s right… one light was on. I was crying without making a sound. I can’t recall any noises. There were just tears. My eyes were blank. If you could have seen me you might think I was stuck paralyzed inside my body; eyes blank, body slack, slow unsteady tears falling occasionally.

That man was there; his warm hand on my cold one. I couldn’t look at him. I can’t accept what he is doing to me. I have long ago disassociated, separated myself from what and where reality had me. Who am I kidding; I did this to myself. I put myself here. This is the end result of a long line of mistakes and failures.

Only a thin cottony dress covers me now. Nothing underneath and nothing over. I am laying on my side not even trying to put up a fight, that man looming over me. He says nothing to me. I sense that he wants to, but maybe since I am behaving he doesn’t want to press his luck. Instead he continues what he came to do.

Surprisingly, I’m not feeling any pain. I don’t feel anything at the moment. I can’t or the world will fall in on me and I will panic. The man would not like it if I were to panic. The man has a sharp object in my body and I have to stay calm. Disassociate. Deep breaths. I look down at the floor. So much blood on the floor…

The man finishes one side and asks if I can roll over so he can stitch up my other inner arm. He gently lifts my thin, pale, filleted arm onto a table from my hospital bed and unwraps it from the layers of bandages. He sighs and prepares a hooked looking needle with some stitching thread while trying to keep part of my wound from bleeding before it is stitched. The tears start to flow again. I feel sorry for the doctor man, feeling pity for me.

When he’s finished I look like a monster. I feel like one, too. I have to stay numb inside. I’m not worried about the violence I have done to myself, that pain I need to feel. I’m concerned about the fallout to my family. My kids. I couldn’t worry about that right now. I’ll lose all sanity for sure.

I have to breathe and accept wherever this leads me to now.




Posted in Anxiety, depression, guilt, hospital, major depressive disorder, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt survivor, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

It’s Been A Long Time (I.E. Happiness ~ Survival > Existing)

The title is kind of making fun of some of my former posts. I am currently in remission from Major Depression (Thank God). Of the things real/possible/suggested/hypothesed/etc. this condition is the one I know I am most in danger of. I was scared for my life every day and lost many friends to suicidal depression. I lost many more to my being open about my condition but I know I at least left some seeds in their minds. They knew me as worthy, sane, and a like minded individual once. It is no joke and nothing to take lightly. It has many levels and a variety of spectrums and luckily suicidal MDD is more rare, but I was there. No longer today. Not right now. But I cannot and will not ever let up on stressing my warnings; do not ignore those signs in your loved ones! Please. No one is too good/ smart/ well educated/ from too good of a family/ strong of a background; No One! 

Many great minds have researched a human’s basic needs for ‘happiness’. In my depression this became so overwhelming for me. Just planning a day was overwhelming. Heck, gathering items needed for a shower was… So once I was in remission I looked at those projects with less disgust. For the most part all agree on the following:

(1) Physical Needs

– Shelter or “reasonable standards of living”

I grew up in a very modest, but comfortable home. When I dream about ‘home’ this is still the house I dream of being in. Some of my best and most terrible memories took place during my time living in this house.  I always imagined living in a nice, big, beautiful home. My parents moved on to a large Victorian and have lived there for over ten years; the three homes I have lived in since have been progressively nicer and bigger but I don’t think they have made me feel happier or more at home. 

– Satisfactory Work

My family are hard workers. Building their own business from the ground up, starting with my uneducated grandfather who, although a genius, had severe dyslexia and couldn’t read. My father and his brothers added to the company and now my cousin and another man who will take over the company when my uncle retires. My other cousins work hard in their chosen fields (many in education, sports and sales; I chose sales, hospitality management). Most of us are college educated, a couple just high school (one of those is out-earning all of us in sales) and a couple have earned Masters (including myself) and probably are mid-earners ironically but I could be wrong. But money has been proven to not be a happiness indicator. Just look at the last ten millionaire lottery winners to prove that theory! I just continued my education because I loved school and my employer paid for half.  As of two weeks ago I had to take a step down from a 16 year career in executive/management due to my health (I’ll discuss later) and take a clerical position in the same field (hospitality). I still enjoyed the work even though it was at a significant paycut and it will also mean a change in my family’s standard of living. But ultimately, would I (we) be happier? That would be difficult to know without the entire picture. 

(2) Mental/ Emotional Needs

– Good personal and intimate relationships

This was a tough, painful, tearfueled lesson to learn. Someone famous once said, “I either care too much or not at all.” I always care too much. Always. If I make a connection with a person and tell them something about myself, that connection is real. It hurts me everytime a client I have invested a lot of time in starts to ignore me instead of just letting me know they have chosen another venue (just horrible treatment, in my opinion but I get they don’t want to dampen their happy vibes). I hurt when friends I used to be close to fade away and even ‘fall off’ of social networks because my truth makes them uncomfortable as if my illness may somehow float over to them. I am the same me I have always been, I just do not silently plot my own death anymore. I don’t plot my own death anymore*.* But, yes, I once did. And then tried to carry it out. People find this odd and creepy and I get that, but I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I carry spiders out of the house! Suicide ideation and murder are two completely different pathologies. I raised two beautiful, healthy, very well attended little girls. Which brings me to my family. My immediate family. They haven’t abandoned me and do love me still, which is all I need. My husband is a saint and eternally patient and my children have been the sunshine in my darkest days. Those three are the reason I survived and continue to. I even got a bonus two children who are precious. Friends, well I have a handful of those I would call true friends. I supposed many married, almost 40 year olds would say the same. A couple I thought were hurt me badly. A few more drifted away. The ones that are still there I will cherish forever. I will do whatever possible to maintain those friendships. Their still being there for me makes a huge difference in my life. 

– Appreciating art and nature

There were many times when my physical health was better that music and running (both together and apart) were my escape and salvation. It was there I cried and prayed. Only there I trusted myself with my real feelings because I KNEW I would be strong enough to come back from them. I could lose myself in the beauty of a winter tree lined sunrise and thank God I was alive and ten minutes later hear a song that brought memories from a past relationship and all the anger I had repressed at the way I had been treated. I could take my sadness, fear, shame and anger out on the pavement and know he was far behind me. I knew I was stronger than his abuse now. There was someone else in his grasp and he couldn’t hurt me anymore. Running and music was my church and my gym. My therapy and my gallery. I hope to someday get back there again. 

– Religion (or philosophic point of view)

God. I very strongly believe He exists. I will discuss but won’t debate Him. I don’t think He is exactly what people imagine Him to be. The reasons people give for Him to be either an imperfect or harsh God. I believe we will only truly understand when we die. Our understanding of Him is our own interpretation. Between us and Him, as it says in the Bible we have our own personal relationship with God. We are not to judge, lest we be judged.  I try not to judge. I’ve actually been too fast to trust people. Even people who have hurt me over and over again. It still makes me happier to think maybe someday I will be able to. Start by trusting BUT have cautious protection in place just in case. In other words; just don’t put your guts on an open table for them to smash and then spit on. At least not with out witnesses to tell you yes, you are not crazy …he/she is a jerk and you did not provoke that attack. Happiness is no attack.  Close to happiness is validation. I think God understands. 

Posted in American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Anxiety, Christian, Corporate, depression, Education, family, God, Happiness, Health, hospitality, major depressive disorder, mental illness, perfectionism, PTSD, rape, recovery, running, suicide, suicide attempt survivor, Uncategorized, Wedding, work | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Bullying and My ‘Little’


She got a haircut last Saturday. I was thrilled because this meant no more fighting her to brush out the tangled mess at the back, underpart of her long, brown head of curls. My ‘Little’ (what her father and I have called her since she was born – 7 weeks early and finally came home a massive 4 pounds from the hospital; both of us afraid to break her at every diaper change) hopping around the house all weekend with her lighter, tighter curls bouncing around her head. “Now I am pretty”, she sang to herself.

To me she is and always has been beautiful. To anyone I could imagine, she must be beautiful. I am her mother, but I think I am fairly objective. She is 11 years old, brown eyes, a little above average height, always smiling, loves to read mystery stories, and chat. She has cute little glasses and likes to play (mostly pretend games). Did I mention she is brilliant? So maybe some of the kids at school don’t appreciate all of those qualities… I was much like her at that age; only not as smart and not nearly as cute.

When I was her age it didn’t bother me too much that no one wanted to be my friend. I did my school work, sang in the school choir and went home. There were some mean kids at school who would pick on me because my teeth were too big for my face and I was overweight and that did hurt my feelings, but my mother told me to pretend that it didn’t bother me and so I did. I went home and cried where no one could see. I did have something though; I wanted to be a singer and dancer someday. I watched shows about Broadway and musicals and knew someday I would do something like that and no one would make fun of me anymore. I would make up dances and practice singing in my room for hours until it was time to go to bed. Then back to school. There were other things in my life that made me sad and school was not the worst of it. School was almost an escape, not as good as home but I was able to learn here and the teachers liked me. I almost felt like I deserved to be picked on some. It just motivated me to work harder when I got home on my dancing and singing.

Flash forward seven years: I did end up with a full scholarship for dance and voice to a performance program at college – but I also ended up with no sense of self-worth and suicide ideation, major depressive disorder, OCD and severe anxiety that I battle to this day. Would I change something for me in my childhood now? I am doing well now but perhaps… But now, I see my Little in this very same place and I cannot chance her ending up as I have. I have to say I DO NOT believe childhood bullying leads to mental illness; but on the other hand, it can certainly exacerbate the issue if no one comes along to show the child they are worth more than what their peers are telling them they are. Not just for the victim of the bullying but also for the bully’s sake. A couple of the people that were horrible to me in childhood have come back and apologized in adulthood and I do believe they had suffered also.

Back to my daughter. She tells me in P.E. class a little boy named Davis told her one day after she mentioned in class her sister and she were in a car accident that they could have died, “Awe, too bad you didn’t!” I called the gym teacher at her Middle School (we’ll call him Coach M) and left a message, per his preferred method of contact. He never contacted me back, nor said anything to the young man, Davis or my daughter. Also, she tells me she has no friends from last year and doesn’t know why. (This is her first year in GT classes and I suspect that could have something to do with it.) She has joined both Reading Club and Art Club, which she enjoys and I hope this will help her find children with like interests but as a mother, other than giving her the same advice my mother gave, I don’t know what else to do (she doesn’t like to sing as much as I did and has shown little interest in dance). Oh, also after she went back to school excited about her “pretty” new haircut? She was told that she looked: “weird”, “okay”, “she could model if she ate a tapeworm”, “funny” and many other non-encouraging not-nice, definite not friend words.

She does like to run and we have joined the ‘Team Beef’ running team as a family, which is not easy to do over the last few years. Little was the last to do so. We hope to become more active in that in the New Year and I would like to see that boost her confidence the way dance did for me in High School. But by then for me, my self-confidence was already bruised. I sincerely hope teachers and administrators do take notice of the lonely ‘Littles’ like mine in their schools and know how truly alone they are. Give them an extra boost occasionally if you could. You have no idea what you are doing for their self-worth. And tell the mean kid next to them (or group of kids), to look up the word “empathy” in the dictionary.

Posted in bullying, children, daughter, Education | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Suffering versus Living

The Myers Briggs Test; A fun little look into our psyche that companies will often give once we begin a work relationship with them. The company I work with gave me my first test when I was 23. My first result was the following:

The Executive-ENTJ

Assertive and outspoken – they are driven to lead. Excellent ability to understand difficult organizational problems and create solid solutions. Intelligent and well-informed, they usually excel at public speaking. They value knowledge and competence, and usually have little patience with inefficiency or disorganization.

I have changed SO much since then. I wanted to rule the world. I had more motivation than anyone I knew. If I had been a race car I would have won the Indy 500! I knew nothing of mental illness; and certainly would have not identified as feeling any effects of that or any other illness like the flu or lupus, or even the common cold. Sickness was just the weak person’s excuse to just not go to work and get things done. Mind over matter, right?! I had things to do, marathons to run, degrees to finish, companies to take over, tasks to accomplish. I was SO clueless. I had no idea what I was doing to myself. That I was burying my pain and giving it a warm, dark place to grow and flourish. I would have told anyone who asked me that I was enjoying life, but I wasn’t. I had put an unimaginable amount of pressure on myself. I was climbing the corporate ladder at a record rate. I was losing my peace and health at that same record rate. My family had no idea. Everyone thought I knew just what I was doing. Although if anyone had questioned me, I wouldn’t have been able to see that anything was wrong anyway. I didn’t understand that I never stopped to enjoy my successes, but instead wondered about disappointed I didn’t do some aspect of it better/ more perfectly. Then I would immediately jump on the next task hoping to do better this time. I could always do better. Always room for improvement. No such thing as perfection. But I needed to aim for perfection…

It took me years to realize I wasn’t living life, I was just suffering through it.

The Idealist- INFP

Quiet, reflective, and idealistic. Interested in serving humanity. Well-developed value system, which they strive to live in accordance with. Extremely loyal. Adaptable and laid-back unless a strongly-held value is threatened. Usually talented writers. Mentally quick, and able to see possibilities. Interested in understanding and helping people.

I took a new Myers-Briggs test now, 16 years later. It is amazing how much your whole personality can change. I have absolutely no desire to take over any companies. I do still have an issue with perfectionism; and I do still beat myself up about not being more so. Or at least closer to. I think I may be exceptionally harder on myself now but I am more aware of it and am able to handle that better. There isn’t anything anyone can say to me (negative) that I haven’t said to myself and worse. Really, there is only one person who says negative things to me anymore and with the help of my therapist I have gotten better at drawing boundaries and creating roadblocks to make it more difficult for him to do that to me as much anymore. I know that is so much more about him than me and I do feel badly for him that he feels the need to do that to me. I just feel sorry for him in general. I have seen in person how people like that end up when they don’t get help. When they can’t see that they so badly need help.

Which brings me more closely to where I am now, to my fascination with idealism and therapy; specifically with people who are mentally ill. Maybe this is why I am so different that I was 16 years ago. That “hyper-type-A Christine” would have never taken time to slow down for therapy to access the pain of her past and illness of her present to fix the things that bring hurt today. This vast change could have only been brought on by my near death experience that almost took me away from my children and close family that I see now would have honestly missed me. I would have been missed. I couldn’t see that before. All I saw was a failure previously. After, I saw concern. I heard confusion, tears and strain in their voices. I recognized the lack of anger in their conversation and knew. I had to stay. For as long as my body would allow and until I had a natural death. So as long as that was the case and I was staying; I had to learn, that is what I do. Idealist. Who would have thought? I am loyal. I don’t wish ill, or bad for anyone; but I do defend my cause (mental health/illness and suicide awareness). My children, husband and other family matter the most to me in this world. Understanding people is very important to me; even the people who do not like me. Especially the one(s) who I feel may even hate me. I feel  like I have an excellent perception of a person’s true motives. This could be what makes me really good at what I do. I have been able to predict (100% so far in 16 years of doing weddings) who will stay married and who will not. People trust me, as they should. I am extremely honest and as such a great sales person and always surpass my goals at work. My brother is in the same profession (not weddings, though) and is also very successful in his work and is told the same reason; his honesty. We both give our clients our cell numbers telling them if they ever have an issue to call us ASAP and we will fix it. Not many sales people will do that…and there is a very good reason for that. Actually, often sales people will not even give you their real name…or will give you their first name only.

This is my life now. I am no longer suffering; not as much.

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It takes doing the right thing; so our kids and the future, can be healthy.


It’s been a while. Sure, I have written little snippets here and there on Instagram and such but no blogs. I have just been so tired.

I took some time, finally, to heal; to heal fully. I found myself breaking again; isolating; growing more and more tired; avoiding making any kind of decisions; so depressed; and the seizures came. I was a physically ill mess and that made the depression worse. It was the happiest time of my life and I was numb. I went to a doctor and she said I had to get treatment for the seizures, migraines AND depression and I had to take time off of work to make the physical and therapeutic care worthwhile. I applied for disability and FMLA and did it. Thank God my new husband was encouraging or I never would have gone forward with that and probably would have never gotten better.

Now, several months later and I am better than I have been in years. I still need to be very aware of how I feel. I am told I could slip back into “too much” fairly easily. I was told to keep in my back pocket the possibility that I may not be able to continue in my line of work. I can give them that since event planning and hospitality is one of the “most stressful careers in the country” according to the latest polls (learned via an article passed around the office). We all just giggled as we read and went back to work, silently sighing to ourselves as we went back to our mounds of work, challenging clients and 60 hour work weeks; although I have not worked more than 45 hours a week since my return. You don’t do this job for the money. You do it because you are a little (or a lot) OCD and you really do enjoy the pressure, challenge and fast-pace of the job. Also the end satisfaction of making the impossible, possible and a job well done.

When I did finally return my coworkers were very warm and welcoming and haven’t shown the least bit of resentment or frustration at having to absorb my workload in my extended absence and that was my greatest fear and guilt while I was gone. I was so anxious that I would not be accepted when I came back because they wouldn’t, or couldn’t understand my illness and why it was so important that I took so much time to get well. It was difficult enough for me to understand. I started to try to make them understand before I left. I kind of was reaching out, maybe for help, before I left but things move so fast around here we are all almost ‘every man for one-self’ that no one really latched on. But that was really unfair of me. That isn’t how the workplace works. At least not yet. Maybe someday it will be possible to have the ability to let it be known you are breaking and need a compassionate, stable person to listen to you and get you somewhere safe before you leave, wondering into the black on your own. I mean, no one would allow a wounded, bleeding person to go and drive themselves anywhere right?! For adults…the stable place may only be work and the black may be home or the road on the way. Luckily, I have people at home that love me, but not everyone is so lucky. I will tackle this on my future advocacy task list. For now, there are other pressing issues I want to pursue.

I am okay now. That is the good news. Actually, ‘okay’ is great! Very tired still but I will take tired over numb and hopeless and seizing all of the time. I have been lucky enough to have been published many times in National publications and online (, Women’s Running, the book; ‘My Bright Shining Star’, Women’s as well as appear on Glenn Beck’s television show (The Blaze) on August 13th as a guest expert regarding suicide. All of that is great but what I would love even more is to be able to be able to get more to my local community here in Texas. It’s no secret we had three suicides last school year. Three students; children attending the high school where my daughter attends (luckily none so far this year that I am aware of…but I have NOT been researching and that is on purpose). Also, I know of two parent suicides and parent murder/suicide in a prominent neighborhood. When I was able to meet with Administration hoping to get them to allow me to bring in free, professional help for the kids on the subject (The Non-Profit: To Write Love On Her Arms, A movie about them is coming out in 2016 btw) I was told this is a subject best handled in the home. Obviously not. Most parents (and many teachers) do not know how to handle this subject any better than the kids do. Like the alcohol and drug programs they bring in; depression and suicide also HAS to be addressed by the professionals. A few of the faculty need to be specially trained and a program needs to be brought in. We cannot lose any more children (or parents) to this awful disease. We have to give them resources at least! It will not go away. And so, National attention is flattering, but not going to get me anywhere at home, which is what is truly important for me and this little town of Montgomery. It may help them see I know what I am writing, speaking, and teaching about. I HAVE been there (depressed and suicidal) and as such I got help and learned about depression, mental illness and suicide prevention. I learned I am NOT crazy; I know I never lost touch with reality and have NOTHING to be ashamed of; but also learned how to never be in that place again and how to ask for help if I find myself slipping. I taught my children what I want to teach (or have someone teach) the community’s children/ young adults. We have to talk about it; read about it (local paper…who is afraid of writing about it); hear about it; post about it (crisis number posters….protected behind locked poster doors). And employ trained psychiatric counselors in our district. WE NEED THEM!!! Make room in the budget. I know it can be done. I have seen the budget and have seen where some of the budget overage goes at the end of the year…don’t make me blog about that! It is very important that everyone know – *If spoken/ written about correctly (aka. in a non-sensationalistic way) it is BEST to communicate often about this subject and to NOT hide this from our children or our community. This is not something to avoid or treat as taboo. It is not something to be ashamed of. It is not good, obviously. But neither is alcohol and drug abuse, and yet we talk about that. It IS okay to offer help; A crisis hotline; a program; a professional trained in this field (not just a former teacher with a Master’s degree and a sign up sheet). Empathy is good, but not enough.*

I had stepped back from my advocacy for a while to heal myself but it is hard to stay away. I am still drawn to help but get very tired when I think about everything that needs to be done. It just takes doing the right thing; so our kids and the future, can be healthy.

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My article in the August edition of ‘Women’s Running’

This came out at a great time. I sure need the motivation and reminder of what it feels like to be healthy. Thank you to Kara with Women’s Running for feeling my story was worth telling!


Posted in Coming Out, depression, Health, major depressive disorder, marathon, mental illness, OCD, running, stigma, suicide attempt survivor, Therapy, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment