Running Towards Healing

Hello there!

For quite a while I have been looking for a way to share my story in hopes that I can let at least one person know that they are not alone, and to assure them there is indeed a rainbow at the end of the storm. This FRC platform along with the start of Fishers Mental Health Awareness Week seemed to be the right time to finally share my story, raw and unedited.

To give you a bit of background, things did not go easy for me growing up. I come from a broken home. My parents got divorced before I turned one. Post-divorce, my dad moved overseas and mom pursued her architectural career, along with personal goals leaving me feeling neglected, unloved, unimportant, and unfortunately we both had to endure domestic violence at the hands of her partner. I am thankful for my grandparents and a very dear aunt who took me in and showed me what a household of love looked like. Even though I had that going, I would always feel I did not belong. This way of thinking pushed me to a dark hole and depressed paths where the only thought stopping me from ending my life was the thought of facing my God after doing so. When I was seventeen I decided my life needed a change, so I graduated high school and came to the US. This move gave me opportunities and many many blessings. I met people I dearly love. For a while I felt great and thought I had made it through, like I sucked it up long enough I would never have to face my dark days again…that was until I became a mom and all the fear and anxiety of having this new baby under my care, having his life entrusted to me, suddenly had my world crushing down. I did not have the time to adjust to all the changes when I realized I was pregnant with my second boy.

The next 3 years of my life would be the worst in terms of my depression with 3 instances where I considered ending it all, but stopped short of doing so by holding up both my boys, crying desperately and thanking my God for his help, for these thoughts to go away. Postpartum depression was in full swing along with all the bottled up messiness of the past, and now a sense of “you better not screw this up as you feel your parents did or your kids will suffer even worse” further complicated it all.

Looking back, my second pregnancy was a mess. It started with bleeding and an ultrasound to find out if the baby was even alive. The next nine months were filled with isolation and food as comfort. I became obese. After having my “miracle baby,” my husband and a close relative helped me get into Zumba and exercising. Slowly I started losing all the weight. I reached a remarkable body and with that I gained the adulation of many, but in my heart and soul I still felt empty, unloved for who I was and unaccomplished. I finally faced the societal stigma surrounding mental illness and called my doctor and ask for help. I started a prescription medication and also found a life coach that will forever hold a place in my heart.

Along with this mix, I found running and completely fell in love with it. I loved it because with each mile I felt strong. I felt I could overcome any pain, any negative thought. I felt empowered after each run, but I was still missing community. My husband and kids were my all, but outside of them the people I was close with had moved out of state, and the woman I referred to as my American mom passed away to heart disease. In the midst of this I started to connect with runners, ran my first half marathon, and came to find RUN XPT. These people were the best. I was not always able to show up, but when I did these people made me feel like I belonged, like they had my back, like they were rooting for me to complete my miles. That is why when FRC became established I was one of the first to jump onboard. As the saying goes, “Come for the cardio, and stay for the community!” Boy oh, boy! Are they right, or what? We surely stay for the community. All four of us!

I am so blessed to have found this group. And I am not saying every day is a breeze, but is absolutely freaking fantastic when I have had a crappy day to go for a run with my group. To run with someone who has no idea of the day I had, but manages to give me a high five at the end totally makes my day.

As a side note I would like to publicly thank my husband who deserves the “Best Husband Award,” as he endured the worst of me. He gave me love, understanding, and stayed committed through it all. Also, if you happen to get a glance of my wrist tattoo, you’ll see it’s a dragonfly. (They are my favorite!) But if you look closely you will see that the wings are two hearts for each of my boys, and its body happens to be a semicolon, because my story is not yet over.

A few years have passed now, and I am happy to share I am at a good place thanks to a lot of forgiving, past leaving, and the counting of blessings. The miles logged on my own, and most importantly with the FRC peeps by my side, have definitely been a huge part of this journey!

Thanks for taking the time to read my story. And please, if you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness, don’t hesitate to seek help.

Hope to see you on the running trails soon!

Love, Jenn