To Hell and back

Like me, many of you feel like you’re running out of resources, options and time to help your loved ones suffering from the serious Neurobehavioral impact of Traumatic Brain Injury. I have been fighting this battle with a loved one for 7 years and although I feel the weight of heavy losses, and tiny wins, I Have not lost hope in God to provide the way for us all. Through years of suffering I Have learned that this issue comes down to a lack of resources and treatment options we need for healing to happen. That is why my clothing line exists. I figured if I Could raise awareness and funds, I could create a place where healing happens in a Trauma informed, collaborative, inclusive and dignified way.

There are very few places across this country that can handle individuals suffering the most severe symptoms of TBI including psychosis, serious mental illness, drug addiction and extreme behavioral issues. These issues typically lead to exclusion or expulsion from programs promising costly solutions and the key to a better life. Instead of finding healing, these individuals are villainized and shunned all while taking precious resources away from families who are loosing everything in the battle. As a single mother, I alone have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars hoping and praying for an end to a devastating downward spiral of addiction, isolation and mental illness.

I have fought desperately for providers to recognize the Link between Traumatic brain injury and severe Neurobehavioral and addiction issues to no avail despite empirical evidence the link does indeed exist. I have been met with pride and ego in places where there should have been compassion and understanding.

So, instead of continuing to fight a system that refused to hear me and that I couldn’t beat, I began gathering knowledge and wisdom to start building the blueprint for a place where true healing could take place. A place where families could come for information and support, and where they could find a safe place where their loved ones could find peace, redemption and healing. Instead of running and hiding, I held God’s hand and followed my loved one into this fire for the soul purpose of using the light God gave me and showing others the way out of this nightmare. I figured if I could make this clothing line wildly successful I could build this facility free of the greed and corruption that haunts this industry that crushes the hope we so desperately need.

There was one particular incidence long ago that fueled this idea and resulting passion project. Not his particular day I was desperate and hopeless, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook when I came across a post.

There was woman whose son had experienced the same dangerous drug addiction my loved one was facing and for the low price of $79.99 she would tell you the solution that saved her son’s life and restored their relationship in miraculous ways. She had the answer to saving my loved one and that answer was behind a freaking paywall! I was immediately, indignantly furious that this woman held the secret that could potentially save my loved ones life but instead of giving me the answer, she held it for ransom for her own monetary gain. I was so distraught and disgusted I vowed to find a way to fund the solution so I could give away the answer for free.

That’s how my clothing line was born and evolved. I figured if people could resonate deeply with my designs we could collectively fund the solution and offer it back to humanity for free. The idea was incredibly simple, but the execution of the idea has been a long, extremely difficult process.

The prices of learning to design clothing, build a website and learning the nuance of SEO was a cake walk compared to identifying what to say about my experience, my loved ones struggles and what details to share about our walk through this particular hell. I was fraught with fear and shame about our story. I was terrified of rejection, judgement and the torture of telling the truth. I was appalled and ashamed at our mistakes and terrified I would loose my loved one by telling the truth behind the madness we had experienced. I did not want to offer our story up to be ridiculed by the masses, especially when we were already under heavy judgement by friends and family who were supposed to love and support us but instead chose to run, hide, villainize and terrorize us for their own enjoyment. Nothing is more dehumanizing and heartbreaking than when people you have loved an entire lifetime, pray on your downfall, laugh at your pain and take joy in your suffering.

It is almost impossible to crawl out of the pit of despair and suffering when there are those who stand at the abyss and kick you back down when you try to stand up. I say almost because with God all things are possible and he helped us gain ground one millimeter at a time and lovingly tended our wounds when the enemy kept attacking us at our lowest, most vulnerable moments.

I Have agonized about telling you the truth, our truth, out of fear of suffering more humiliation, rejection and further isolation. How could I open ourselves up to such vulnerability knowing the enemy is waiting with baited breath to ridicule and destroy us? How could I take that chance knowing we are one arrow away from complete destruction? I can tell you how it is possible and why it is time to speak out…despite everything we have been through we are Divinely protected by God whole we worship in the darkness. Of this I am certain. Perilous arrows may form against us but they will not prosper. We may be battle worn but we are still standing. We may be loosing but we are still fighting. If I know this to be true about ourselves, I Know it to be true about you dear friends. Our story is incredibly painful and extremely unhinged but we are not alone. We stand in solidarity with you in this fight and it’s time to take a stand and roar the battle cry. I may be one insignificant woman, but together we are an army of warriors. Alone our battles are overwhelmingly hopeless, but together we can save the world one beautiful piece of clothing at a time.