From Antidepressants to Advocacy: My Journey Through Depression, Motherhood & Healing
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been someone who has chosen radical honesty over silence. It hasn’t always been easy, but speaking the truth has been my way of making sense of the chaos and of helping others feel less alone.
My journey with mental health began at 18 when I felt what I would now call depression. Like so many young women, I didn’t have the language or tools to understand what was happening, I just knew that life felt impossibly heavy.
But that wasn’t the end of the story. Years later, while pregnant with two of my children, depression came crashing back - twice! I was juggling solo motherhood, neurodivergence in my family, financial upheaval, and the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix. Again, antidepressants were the bridge that kept me functioning, for more than a decade.
Rebuilding from the Inside Out
What changed for me wasn’t an overnight miracle. It was a slow, stubborn process of reclaiming my health and my power. I leaned into nutrition, learning how food could support my body and mind. I shifted my mindset, rewiring beliefs that once held me captive. And, perhaps most importantly, I made the choice to back myself, even on the days when it felt impossible.
It wasn’t about rejecting traditional treatment. It was about complementing it with tools that allowed me to feel stronger, more self-aware, and more in control of my story.
Motherhood in the Middle of It All
Being a solo mum of four neurodivergent children adds a whole extra dimension to the conversation around mental health. My kids see the world differently, and they’ve taught me more about resilience, honesty, and acceptance than any self-help book ever could. At times, it’s messy and overwhelming. But it’s also beautiful, because healing and motherhood aren’t linear. They’re layered, complicated, and deeply human.
Why I Share My Story
For a long time, I thought vulnerability would make me less liked. Now I know the opposite is true. Sharing openly about depression, about the years on antidepressants, and about the slow climb back to myself has given me strength and human connection to others I didn’t know I could have.
I share because I know there are women right now in the thick of it, exhausted, burnt out, maybe ashamed that they can’t “just snap out of it.” To those women, I want to say: you’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re simply human. And with the right support, mindset shifts, and a willingness to keep showing up for yourself, you can walk through the darkness and come out the other side.
A Voice of Radical Honesty & Hope
Today, I see my story not as a source of shame, but as a testament to resilience and self-advocacy. Depression doesn’t define me. My motherhood, my healing, my determination to live honestly, that’s what defines me.
If my journey can help even one woman feel less alone, or give her the courage to take the next small step toward her own healing, then sharing has been worth it.
Because the truth is, you can rebuild. You can heal. And you can write a new story, one where your past no longer holds all the power.