My Story

Two suicides in one week. Two famous suicides atleast. Because on average there are 121 a day. Did you know suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in America? Ahead of homocide at 16. We’ve been real vocal about guns and gun violence this year, can we give #10 a moment?


My heart hurt this week reading these reports. Seeing the outpouring of love for these idols  on social media and in articles. Did they know how much they were loved? If only they could see this. I watched my friends share the suicide hotline number. But is that enough? What did I have to say? Then today Debra Messing shared on Instagram her lows with the #MyStory. And I thought you know what? Yes. Yea Debra! So here we are.

I’ve been there. I’ve been at that low. And I’ve talked about it with my people. I think only twice I said truly that I may have been suicidal at some point. Because it feels shameful to say it and to write it. Did they understand the weight of it? Maybe. Probably not. But I like to say, yeah things sucked then but I knew in six months it would get better.

Here’s the thing about depression. Your body slips into it and your mind plays tricks on you. If you can, for a second, understand it’s not you, but your brain and body being chemically imbalanced and recognize there’s help for that! You have heart disease? You get help. Break a bone? Get that shit fixed. Our minds are crucial to our being. To creating and doing the most amazing things. Why wouldn’t we care about their health like we care about the health of our knees, our hair, our skin?

I knew when I was laying on the bathroom floor that I had a doctors appointment in a week and it wouldn’t be long before I felt more like myself. And it’s funny because in this time frame two different people I’m friendly with said to me, “Your life looks so fun on Instagram! What are you doing!?” LOL. Isn’t that something?

I was able to keep that thought of I’ll feel better soon enough loud in my mind. But not everyone can. I, like Debra, am lucky enough to afford a wonderful therapist who has helped me make life choices and transitions in relationships, careers, and much more. She’s guided me through the tough spots that life presents. Yes friends and family are wonderful but do they have a degree in fucked up? Or a PhD in it? I mean. Are you going to let your friend operate on your heart?

Within my circle we’ve become more vocal about mental health and our journeys to therapy. We’ve shared our therapists phone numbers and recommendations on books that go deep. I think I can confidently say we’ve helped our sisters take the leap to helping themselves. I think my story of “yes, I was at the bottom on my bathroom floor but I knew deep down there was a light.” makes people believe me when I say what you’re going through has a light, too, I promise. And it’s your body working against you. It’s chemicals. It’s not YOU. And you have me. You have us.

So today I’m taking that story out of text messages and putting it here. For you to know you’re not alone and you’ll be ok. Cause we got you.


*disclaimer: I wrote this on my iPhone. And it’s emotions. Disregard grammatical errors.