Things to Think About

Stopping the Stigma – Let’s Talk Depression

This past week the world lost 2 visionaries.  Their creative sparks burned out at their own hand.  I feel like we are seeing this more and more .  People have committed suicide since time began, but It seems to be an epidemic as of late.

b kind

I have battled depression since I was a teenager.  I often refer to it as my darkness or my demon.  Honestly , what started my depression was just usual teenage bullshit.  I hated the way I looked and I always thought I was ugly.  I wasn’t the one that boys went after.  I always felt second best.  I never did anything amazing or Incredible.  I liked to write my morbid poetry , which I still like to do.

When I was 14 , I decided I had had enough.  What motivated  me in that moment, honestly, I don’t know.  But I woke up for school and decided to swallow somewhere around 50 asprins.  After I did it I immediately regretted it and woke my mother up to tell her I did something stupid.  Parent freak out ensued as it should have.  They rushed me to the hospital where I got my stomach pumped.  If you have never had it done before, it is not a process I recommend.  Its sucks .  Interestingly, the room I was in when I was in the hospital as a double room.  My roommate was a very large girl who was restrained at her wrists and ankles.  Now, I have no idea what she was there for, but her guardian with her kept saying ” you should not of done that to your sister with a wire hanger”.

I wanted out of there.  But since I was a dumbass and tried to kill myself , it doesn’t work like that .  They wanted to send me in an ambulance to a mental hospital.  I fought my parents about the ambulance and they ended up being able to drive me.

I was sent to McLean Hospital in Belmont MA.  The admissions building was beautiful.  It took forever.  Once I was checked in , I was taken to the unit I would be staying at .  Now remember how I just said that the admissions building was beautiful? Well the unit – not so much.  It was a run down building with a mix of troubled teens to kids with severe issues. I clearly remember walking down the hall to go to the bathroom and there were several rooms with doors open and all you could see was a kid and a mattress on the floor.  It got better – I get to my room and my room mate is very vocal about Not wanting a room mate.   It was at that my point my knight in shining armor saved me.  My dad , he told them I am not staying there and that place as not for me.  My parents had to sign all sorts of paperwork since I was leaving against doctor orders, but man am I glad they did.  I was grounded for a while, actually confined to the porch, but I was so glad not to be there.

I had to go to , well, I was already in therapy.  Once a week on Saturdays I had to go . My mother would bring me, then on the way home we would stop at Sanborns candies .  We used to joke that going there and getting truffles was my reward for being fucked up.

When my oldest baby was born, I was still a baby.  I got pregnant at 17 and when he was born I was 18.  Instant adult.  It was not easy and I had many dark days.  My husband and I had our ups and downs and I am not going to lie, there was definitely moments where I thought it would just be easier if I was not around.  I wanted to give my child the best life possible.  And here I am , mom of 3 amazing creatures , still feeling as though , I have not done a good job.

I used to think about killing myself all the time, to be honest.  Something dramatic.  But even after I did try and take my life, I felt like a failure, couldn’t even kill myself right.   I feel like my life has not been stress free but I suppose everyone out there could say the same.  As much as I would fantasize about ending it all, once I had kids, there was just no way I could ever do it.  When I got sick and as the days, weeks, month, now years went by and I was in constant pain and at the mercy of this nameless disease, I really had some dark days.

Now , more than ever, I try looking on the bright side.  My mother was such a positive force , she went through hell and back , and despite all of it, she was a always a positive beacon.  My biggest cheerleader was always my mom.  When I lost her, I feel like a piece of me went along with her.

I struggle with my demon every day.  Some days she stays asleep inside and some days she is a raging psycho bitch.  I try to find the balance.  Despite being almost 38 years old, I feel like the demon will always be a part of me and who I am . The good, the bad and the demon, I guess that is me.

It is frustrating .  I feel like lately I do need some professional help.  I called numerous doctors that my insurance approved and said were taking new patients, but for the life of me, I cannot get anyone to call me back.  This is the start of where the system for mental health in this country is amiss.  Most people do not even recognize that they need help.  And when we do reach out, there is no assistance.

Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in America. Each year over 44,000 people in America take their own life.  Its incredible to me that this number is so large. Being depressed needs treatment, instead there is this stigma that being depressed is bad.   We need to accept that these demons exist within most of us and we need to seek help when they start to emerge.  Its not easy , but there is a better way .

For a list of Suicide statistics, click here

We need to stop this stigma and speak up when we see someone in need.  Be the positive change in this world.

If you or someone you know needs help, please reach out:


Remember , through every darkness the light is fighting its way though on the other side.

ont stop bel




Daily Rants and Raves

Miss Mary Sunshine aka Morbid Megan

This blog is about me and my journey, so I thought I’d share some of me with you.

That being said, for those that know me, I am an outgoing goofy kinda gal.  Always cracking a joke about my weight.  Most of you don’t know that I have suffered from depression since I was a teenager.  I am not talking teen angst depression, I am talking attempted suicide depression. Yes, I tried to kill myself when I was 14.  It was a stupid thing to do, I am forever ashamed.  I am thankful I was unsuccessful.  I am forever sorry for what the experience did to my family, especially my parents.  I remember being terrified in the hospital as they pumped my stomach.  It didn’t help that they put another person in my room who had to be restrained and was freaking out.  The doctor told me had I had waited to go to the hospital, I would of died.  Now, is that true? Probably not, but it sure as hell scared the shit out of me.

Pile in the depression with my self esteem and I am a therapists dream.  I had a therapist, he was great, and my prize for being fucked up was a stop for truffles at Sanborns Candies on the way home from the session.   You ever notice that all therapists have the same way of talking? That drove me insane, not mine, thank God.  That being said, I probably should go back.

Born from my depression was one of my greatest passions, writing poetry.  Hence the name Morbid Megan.  My friend Amanda’s mom named me that 🙂  I love to write, though I find I come up with my best stuff when I am having a bad day.  For the life of me, I can’t write anything happy or cheery.  And honestly if I am not riddled with depression, I can’t get anything out.   I love the release that writing gives.  Most of what I write is about me, sometimes about things I know of, and sometimes shit I randomly think of.   When I was in the 8th grade I wrote a poem about a kid who goes beserk killing his family just leaving his little sister.  Yes, I know its fucked up, but I won the Write Away Contest ( after I submitted a letter that I was not crazy or suicidal).  For me, to know that people appreciated my work was an amazing feeling.  Its fascinating when something that is organicly you is received well.

So, I continue to write, just for me, to get it all out.  Here are a couple if you are interested :


She feels the darkness roll in like a fog on the water when the day breaks
An inexplicable feeling
But not worth the deaf ears the words should fall on
Like sand blowing from her lips as the words are said
So she shall stew in quite solitude
Screaming on the inside, the darkness trying to crawl through
Clawing and tearing
As if dear life could be sustained here, more like her own purgatory
There are no reasons , no thoughts, no concerns, no feelings
It just is
A living breathing entitiy that she shall never be able to shake
Demons that wither away at her very being
True undeniable happiness seems so lost
And maybe its not this deep dark depression that takes her over
Maybe she is just lost
Searching for something she will never find and can never have
She screams in the middle of the night
She screams at the top of her lungs
She screams in silence in her dreams
She screams like she did when she first begun
Searching and questing for something
A purpose
A meaning
A place in this world
To make a difference in someone’s life
To witness something amazing
To BE someone Amazing
Maybe she is experiencing a mid life crisis
Maybe she’s not
Maybe she’s being dramatic
Maybe she’s not

Crackling as I walk
I feel the pieces crush beneath my feet
Aimlessly wandering
A lonesome soul on a desperate search
To find the things she left behind, things she lost track of
Mainly herself and her abandoned dreams
This perception they hold is so wrong, but its the only thing she’s given, so what do you expect them to think?
She is just a silly girl with silly dreams
Wishes and wants that never pan out
There have been blessings along this road she wanders
Wonderful wonderful blessings
This dark veil shields her eyes to the beauty and keeps her drenched  in the dark
She can open her eyes, she can open her heart
She can put out an APB, she can put a face on a milk carton
But she has yet to find herself after all these years
And what happens when she loathes the “ found” self just as much as the lost one?
Feeling like such a failure
Such a horrible horrible failure
A feeling no matter how great the success, she cannot shake

So there you have it – some depressing poetry courtesy of me. Hope you enjoyed.

Back to the point – I am journeying to find myself.  I was only 17 when I was told of my impending motherhood and only 18 when I had to become an adult in more ways than 1 .  The more I think of it, how could I have myself figured out?  I know that I am a wife and a mother to 3 amazing kids.  But I don’t know WHO I am.   My identity was a mom and it was not about me before it ever was, does that make sense?  Don’t get me wrong – MOM is my greatest and proudest accomplishment .

I KNOW I am fat.

I KNOW I was skinny.

I KNOW I am committed to losing weight and getting fit.

I KNOW I have found the right program for me.

I KNOW I need to eat better.

I KNOW this current state is not what I AM and is not me.



Its my time!!! and its about time!


Keep up the swim and we will get there folks 🙂