What if peace isn’t something you find when life finally calms down… but something you practice right in the middle of the mess?

Hey climbers ❤️ Today’s episode is our season finale, and it honestly feels surreal to even say that. When we started this podcast, we didn’t know if anyone would listen—we just knew we couldn’t keep walking through this story quietly.

It’s also a big marker moment for us: Ileini is coming up on three years “clean” (no hospitalizations), and that doesn’t mean life is perfect—it means we’ve built support systems and coping tools that help keep her out of that darkest hole. There are still hard days. But there’s also hope now… and that’s a mountain we’ve been climbing together.

And then there’s our guest: Diana Oestreich—author, peace activist, Iraq War veteran, and a real-life friend in our community. Diana’s work has been one of those “handhold” moments for me as a parent—like, oh… this is what it looks like to keep choosing love when things are heavy.

We talk about war and PTSD, yes—but even more, we talk about the kind of war that happens inside a person. The invisible kind. The kind that shows up in parenting, mental health, identity, and the everyday courage it takes to keep showing up anyway.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Peace isn’t the absence of conflict—it’s presence in the middle of it. Not avoiding. Not numbing. Not pretending. Just showing up.

Healing can’t be only “crisis response.” We need tools for everything under the red line—the daily “0–10” check-in days where you’re not in danger, but you’re not thriving either.

Courage rarely feels like courage. It often feels like fear… and doing the next right thing anyway.

Violence isn’t only physical. Words—inside our heads or out loud—can violate dignity too. Peace starts when we stop agreeing with the lies that crush us.

Support systems change outcomes. You don’t always know who you’ll meet along the way—until someone becomes the mentor, the friend, the “next handhold.”

Kids need “clean slate” support. Not the weight of past failures projected onto the next attempt—because teens are changing fast, and they deserve room to try again.

Our Favorite Quotes

“Peace isn’t the absence of conflict. It’s showing up in the middle of it.”

“If bravery is real, it usually feels a lot like fear.”

“Violence is anything that violates human dignity—by word or by deed.”

“You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“Peace is when each one of us has a seat at the table.”

Chapter Markers

03:03 Three years without hospitalizations — what “clean” means in our world

06:17 The line that anchored the whole season: peace in the middle of conflict

10:35 The “red line” problem: crisis care vs. thriving care

17:01 Courage, fear, and telling the truth anyway

29:26 Making violence the enemy (not each other)

49:58 The summit moment: senior year, new hope, and the next mountain

Your Turn

This week’s check-in prompt: Where in your life are you waiting for things to calm down before you let yourself choose peace—and what would it look like to practice peace right here, right now, in the middle of it?

MB01TTAC9RUMCLG

Sometimes the climb isn’t about getting to the top. Sometimes it’s about noticing who’s beside you—who’s slipping—and choosing, again and again, to reach back and help each other stand.

In this episode, Mom and I take a breath and zoom out. We’re calling this one “Helping Each Other Up the Slope” because it’s kind of a recap… but not in a boring way. More like a “what have we learned so far?” moment—about healing, about family, and about what it looks like to keep showing up when life is messy.

And I want to say this right away: this episode is lighter than some of our previous ones, but it’s still real. We talk about the things that actually move the needle—acceptance, asking for help, advocating for yourself (and others), and finding support systems that help you keep going.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Growth isn’t a solo sport. Healing often looks like connection—letting someone in, letting someone help, and learning how to be there for each other without shame.

Parents and kids are both still becoming. Teenagers don’t know what their parents lived through, and parents don’t always know the “right” thing to do—because they’ve never parented this version of you before.

Coping vs. defense mechanisms. We talk about the difference between tools that help you adapt and heal… and habits that numb, distract, or keep you stuck (including substance use and doom scrolling).

Mental pain deserves real urgency. If a child was physically injured, you wouldn’t say “walk it off.” This episode holds that same seriousness for emotional pain—without judgment, ego, or minimizing.

Grace changes the whole dynamic. Even after conflict, you can come back. You can apologize. You can try again. Nothing has to be “final” just because it was hard.

Our Favorite Quotes

“We love each other… but we also like each other. And that hasn’t always been easy.”

“Just because one argument was had and things look bleak… that doesn’t mean you can’t go back and try again.”

“In this moment right now—my kid needs help.”

“Not only helping other people up the slope… but being kind to yourself and helping yourself up your own slope.”

“Ending your life doesn’t just end the pain—it ends all possibilities of hope.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — Sometimes the climb isn’t the point

02:30 — Helping each other up the slope: the big themes

04:40 — Love, like, and rebuilding after hard seasons

07:20 — When someone can’t imagine tomorrow

08:40 — The playground analogy: urgency without ego

12:50 — Parents, teenagers, and giving each other grace

21:15 — Coping vs defense mechanisms (and what we normalize)

25:25 — Caffeine, cortisol, and why we snap

27:20 — Technology + the dopamine loop

32:35 — Go touch grass (seriously): nature + connection

34:30 — Don’t lose hope: your life can change fast

Your Turn

Where in your life do you need to stop “powering through” alone—and let someone help you up the slope?

And if you’re the one doing the helping… where might you need to give yourself more grace for not always knowing the perfect thing to say?

MB01ZB2NEHADDRH

What if the win you’re chasing isn’t on the scoreboard—it’s the moment a kid believes they still belong?

Today’s episode is about the kind of coaching that keeps a light on when the season—and life—get heavy.

We’re in a four-part series I’m calling Finding Help Along the Way—the real, practical ways people step in for our kids (and for us) when life asks more than we think we can carry. Sports became that classroom for us. It wasn’t just drills and line changes; it was where my daughter learned language for her feelings, and where I learned how to let go without disappearing.

Our guest today is Coach Ali—a hockey coach with a mental-health lens, a suicide-prevention background, and the courage to say out loud what most rinks never name: there’s a whole person under that helmet. Ali has been a steady grown-up for our family—one who can celebrate a perfect backcheck and, in the very next breath, remind a player, “It’s okay to not be okay.” This conversation is part reflection, part playbook, and fully a love letter to the power of adults who show up with both standards and softness.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Whole-human coaching: Skills matter, but so do private check-ins, confidentiality, and clear safety plans.

Normalize the conversation: Mental health isn’t a side note; bring it into the room—briefly, consistently, with care.

Belonging vs. isolation: Teams draw circles. Coaches and captains can widen them on purpose.

The Lorax rule: “The tree falls the way it leans.” Culture follows the daily lean—fear or trust, shame or grace.

Tough love + empathy: Players often need both. Correct the rep; protect the kid.

Parent posture: Lead with humble questions, assume good intent, and advocate through the right channels.

Resilience in real time: Imperfect days count. Smiling after a mistake can be a skill, not denial.

Our Favorite Quotes

“Under that helmet is a person—this is their first time living.”

“The tree falls the way it leans. If we lean toward trust and camaraderie, that’s where the season goes.”

“Anything human is mentionable, and anything mentionable becomes more manageable.”

“One bad rep is one fish in a very big pond—smile, reset, try again.”

“No coach wants to imagine a locker room without you. You’re worthy here, whether you score or not.”

Chapter Markers

00:01:15 — The Series & Why Sports

00:04:53 — Coaching a Whole Human

00:09:26 — Making Mental Health Mentionable

00:16:23 — The Lorax Rule

00:18:36 — Circles of Belonging

00:26:42 — Comparison & Pressure

00:31:39 — A Message from the Mountain

00:43:27 — Tough Love or Soft Landings?

Your Turn

This week’s reflection: Where do you need to lean differently—toward trust, toward asking for help, or toward giving someone else the benefit of the doubt?

Write one sentence you can say the next time you (or your kid) miss a rep: “That was one fish in a big pond—smile, reset, try again.”

MB0101BEKZHOWDD

School is supposed to help us become who we’re meant to be… but for a lot of us, it’s where we first learn what it feels like to not belong. This episode is for anyone who’s ever felt alone in a room full of people—and still had to show up the next day.

Today we’re talking about school—not grades, not test scores, not the “typical” stress. We’re talking about the real stuff: identity, mental health, social pressure, and what it takes to keep going when your cup is already full before first period even starts.

I (Ileini) share what it’s been like navigating school as a mixed-race student, through the weirdness of middle school, the intensity of high school, and the ripple effects of the pandemic years—while also trying to survive the pressure to “just keep going.”

And I (Ashley) share what it’s been like parenting through it… learning when to step in, when to step back, and how to advocate when systems don’t know what to do with a kid who’s hurting.

This conversation is a little lighter than some of our past episodes—but it’s still real. And if you’ve ever needed help but felt scared to ask for it… we’re right there with you.

Key Themes + Takeaways

School can be a mirror—and when you already feel different, it can amplify everything (identity, belonging, confidence).

Microaggressions and exclusion are real, and they don’t always look dramatic—but they leave marks.

The pandemic changed social development for a lot of students: connection, emotional regulation, and just learning how to be around people again

Asking for help is a skill—and it’s not weakness. It’s evidence you care about yourself and your future.

Just because other students aren’t asking questions doesn’t mean they don’t need help—you don’t measure your needs against other people’s silence.

There is hope: supportive teachers exist, resources exist, and growth can happen—even if it takes years.

Our Favorite Quotes

“School… we all go through it. It’s inevitable. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

“Anything can be weaponized. Microaggressions exist everywhere.”

“What’s the worst that’s going to happen? They’re going to tell you no.”

“Just because your peers may not be asking your teacher for help does not mean they don’t need the help.”

“Never be ashamed to take care of yourself… and you never know what anybody else is going through.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — When school becomes the place you feel “different”

03:12 — “Barbie society” and growing up mixed-race in the classroom

05:26 — Middle school: hormones, pressure, and the jump to high school

07:10 — COVID kids and what we lost socially

08:52 — Your cup is already full before you even walk in

15:27 — “Screw it, we ball”: learning to ask for help anyway

26:28 — Mental health clubs, stigma, and choosing support without shame

Your Turn

This week’s check-in / journaling prompt:

Where have you been telling yourself you “should be fine,” when what you actually need is support? 

And what would it look like—just one time—to raise your hand and ask anyway?

What if the first place you heal is the space you come home to? What if changing a room—light bulbs, colors, the way the bed faces—changes the way a day lands on your heart?

Today, I’m sitting with my daughter, Lainey, and we’re talking about the place that held us after crisis: home. After hospitalization and outpatient, “normal” didn’t exist for us anymore. Coming back meant medications, therapy, and a thousand tiny decisions—like when to rest and when to come downstairs; when solitude is care and when it’s a red flag.

Before discharge I asked the counselor, “What can I change as a parent?” Then we asked Lainey, “What needs to be different at home so it feels less dark and more inviting?” Her answers led us to a weekend of rearranging, thrifting, and—yes—Pinterest. We spent about $400 and rebuilt her space as a signal: you’re not alone, and this next chapter can look and feel different.

Key Themes & Takeaways

Environment is medicine. Light, color, privacy, and flow can support nervous systems—especially post-crisis.

Isolation vs. restoration. Alone time can be healing; chronic hiding can be a warning. We built check-in phrases to tell the difference.

Co-created safety. Simple scripts (“Are you okay to be alone right now?” “Do you want me to sit with you?”) made hard moments more honest.

Budget-friendly change matters. Curtains as doors, a small TV on a swivel, warm bedding, a desk with art supplies—practical love.

Tell the truth you can. If “I’m fine” isn’t true, try: “It’s a weird day. I need rest,” or “I’m overwhelmed.” Precision is powerful, even if brief.

If home isn’t safe, reach outward. 988 exists for a reason. There are coaches, teachers, friends, and strangers online who will hold a light with you.

Our Favorite Quotes

“There was an actual result of me saying what I needed. I felt seen.”

“We found a way—sometimes hour by hour—to interact differently and make it through that growth period.”

“If a loved one asks if you’re okay, tell the truth you can tell.”

“If someone says ‘you should just do it,’ that’s not your people. Find light. Build your own fire.”

“You may not see the top of the hole you’re in—but there’s a tunnel. Keep going.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 Mic check & content note — grounding before heavy topics

00:49 Coming home after outpatient — meds, therapy, and the long game

03:25 The makeover — from dark to warm, privacy to breathe

07:00 “I felt seen” — art desk, swivel TV, and signals of safety

12:59 Alone vs. together — family code words and double-checks

19:11 Whose life is this? — letting teens shape their environment

30:08 Hard conversations — identity, disagreement, and safer language

35:08 When it’s crisis — 988, finding help when home isn’t safe

39:03 Light and tunnels — hope as a daily practice

Your Turn

This week’s reflection: “What one change in my home (object, routine, or boundary) would help my body feel safer to rest, and my heart feel more welcomed to speak?”

If today is heavy and you need someone now, you can call or text 988 (U.S.) for immediate mental health support. You matter. Keep going.

MB01CRKDPTUZROA

Sometimes the hardest place to ask for help is inside your own head. The thoughts get loud, the feelings get tangled, and suddenly even the idea of reaching out feels like climbing a mountain with no rope.

This episode kicks off our Finding Help Along the Way series, and honestly… it’s the one that hits closest to home. We talked with our friend Casey Michaelson from St. Louis County Public Health — someone who stepped into our story long before we ever sat down to record this.

Casey was there on a day when everything cracked open for me. When a training we went to stirred up more than I could handle, and I had to step out of the room. He followed. He noticed. He stayed. And he didn’t try to fix me — he supported me. That moment changed the course of the entire day, and honestly, the next steps in my healing.

So talking with him now, on the podcast, about what happens inside our own heads felt like closing a loop. Not a perfect one — but a human one. Because this episode isn’t about pretending we knew what we were doing. It’s about the real messiness of trying to be okay when you’re not, and how help looks different for every person.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Help isn’t one-size-fits-all. What works for someone else might not work for you — and that’s okay.

Silence can be support. Being with someone doesn’t always look like talking.

Parenting through a mental health crisis is messy, uncomfortable, and full of learning moments — for both sides.

Coping skills are deeply personal: movement, creativity, grounding, breathwork, distraction, connection, nature.

Asking "Are you thinking about suicide?" does not put the thought in someone’s head — it opens a door for honesty.

A full cup helps you help someone else. You can’t pour support from an empty place.

Our Favorite Quotes

“Silence is powerful. Sometimes sitting with someone is support all on its own.” — Casey

“I didn’t know how to help myself, so when people asked how they could help me, I didn’t have an answer.” — Ileini

“We don’t go into a fire fight with an empty fire truck. If you’re going to support someone, your cup has to be full first.” — Casey

“If you light one candle with another, you don’t lose your flame — you just share the light.” — Mom

“It’s not a one-size-fits-all situation. Everybody has their own way of dealing with things.” — Ileini

Chapter Markers

00:00 — The Mom Disclaimer

02:03 — Introducing Casey & the Mental Health Training World

05:50 — When a Training Triggered More Than Expected

07:19 — Relearning Life After the First Hospitalization

11:12 — Mom Fills Her Own Cup (Hockey, Community & Trying Again)

14:54 — The Niagara Falls Trip: Two Different Experiences

18:21 — Sophie's Squad & Realizing I Wasn't Alone

23:14 — Casey on Support vs. Fixing

27:43 — The Power of Sitting in Silence

31:52 — Touch, Consent, and Knowing What Helps You

35:22 — Understanding 988: What Happens When You Call

40:23 — How to Actually Find Local Help

43:53 — Coping Skills that Don’t Require a Crisis

55:23 — Safety Planning & The Words We Use

01:03:02 — Closing Thoughts: Finding Light Again

Your Turn: This week, check in with yourself gently:

“What helps me feel safe and grounded when my thoughts start to spiral — and how can I make that tool easier to reach for next time?”

No pressure. No perfection. Just honesty.

What do you do when the hospital says, “She’s ready to come home,” but your heart whispers, “I’m not ready at all”? This is the episode where we talk about the messy middle—when hope returns and fear tags along anyway.

Before we dive in, a gentle content note: we talk candidly about mental health and suicide. If you’re in crisis, call 911 for immediate danger or call/text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You are loved. You are not alone.

Today I’m telling the story of the days between discharge papers and real life—when my daughter was doing “well enough” to leave inpatient, and I was suddenly the one responsible for keeping her, and our home, safe. I had jobs, two younger kids, and a brain full of “what-ifs.” We didn’t get a manual; we got a moment. And in that moment, I realized the work wasn’t over—it was changing addresses.

We talk about logistics and love—asking for work accommodations, securing a rare spot in an outpatient program, and turning our house from “dark and cramped” to a place that felt lighter and more possible. We talk about DBT skills, butter knives, arts-and-crafts with shaking hands, and the small, brave steps that add up to a new kind of life.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Discharge isn’t the finish line—it’s a handoff. The care continues at home.

Safety is practical and compassionate: locks on drawers, rides to outpatient, language for hard moments.

Skills matter: DBT tools (grounding, asking for help, “happy place”) can turn panic into participation.

Environment impacts wellbeing: light, space, and small home updates can shift how a day feels.

Shared language builds trust: “Are you really fine?” became our agreed-upon second door of honesty.

It’s okay not to know: parents and kids are both first-timers at some point. Asking for help is a strength.

Our Favorite Quotes

“Discharge didn’t mean ‘all clear.’ It meant, ‘She’s coming home—and we need a plan.’”

“I wasn’t ready to go back to boom-boom-boom life without a single breath to myself.”

“A butter knife felt like a mountain—so we started with a plastic one.”

“You’ll live in a world with people who haven’t taken the training—and you’ll use the skills anyway.”

“It is okay to not be okay. It is okay to not know yet.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — Disclaimer & lifelines: naming hard things and how to get help

00:52 — The discharge meeting: relief meets responsibility

03:21 — Real-world logistics: work hours, summer gap, and childcare math

07:49 — Home matters: the dark house, Duluth winter, and making light again

12:37 — A golden spot: landing an outpatient seat and juggling schedules

14:28 — Safety plan at home: locks, codes, and keeping everyone safe

23:25 — Hands shaking, still trying: DBT, scissors, and arts-and-crafts as exposure therapy

29:22 — Language we agreed on: “Are you really fine?” and choosing trust

32:19 — Closing loop: breaking small harmful cycles, together

Your Turn

This week’s gentle journal prompt: “Where in your home—or your schedule—could one small change make safety and honesty a little easier?”

If you need support right now: Call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline). You matter.

When the room gets stripped bare—no belt, no hoodie, no photos—you learn quickly what’s left: breath, fear, and love trying to find a way in. This episode is the story of how we kept knocking until a door opened.

Content note: we talk about suicide, hospitalization, and trauma. Please take care of yourself and listen in your own time. If you’re in crisis, call 911 or dial/text 988 for immediate support.

Last episode, we reached the threshold between ER and inpatient—the transfer that changes everything. Today, we step inside. The scrubs change, the rules change, and the walls are bare. As a mom, nothing prepared me for handing my kid over to a locked unit and being told “we’ll call at four.” I wanted to fix it, build a ladder, tear down the door—anything.

What we found there was complicated: safety first, dignity second, and a system doing its best while running on empty. Somewhere inside that week-and-a-little, one conversation with a social worker left me staring at a blank face and an even blanker list of resources for parents. That gap—the silence where help should be—became the catalyst for this podcast.

Key Themes + Takeaways

Safety vs. Self: Inpatient rules protect life, but the loss of personal belongings can feel destabilizing.

Diagnosis in Motion: Considerations around bipolar II surfaced, alongside caution about teen hormones, athletics, and stress—reminding us that labels are starting lines, not verdicts.

Belonging + Identity: Moving towns, being one of few Polynesian teens, and fielding “What are you?” questions added weight to an already heavy season.

Caregiver’s Powerlessness: Scheduled calls, limited access, and explaining the unexplainable to younger siblings—this is the quiet grind of loving someone through crisis.

Filling System Gaps: With few resources offered, we built our own—letters from friends, room makeovers, sunlight through new curtains—small changes that signaled big love.

Seed of a Mission: The moment a professional couldn’t point me to parent support is the moment this show started forming in my chest.

Our Favorite Quotes

“They took everything, even my clothes—and the bed crinkled every time I breathed.”

“Safety is the point. Dignity still matters.”

“We can’t always change the system overnight, but we can change the room you come home to.”

“It’s not what do you have to be depressed about—it’s what have you been carrying alone?”

“If help isn’t on the list, we write the list.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — Disclaimer & Doorway: naming hard things and choosing care

01:19 — Intake Reality: belongings surrendered, bare walls, thin blankets

04:44 — Covid + Contact: limited rooms, scheduled calls, the ache of waiting

09:35 — Tests & Tension: MRI, labs, and hearing “bipolar II” considered

12:29 — Belonging Is Medicine: identity, being “the newcomer,” and exhaustion

23:15 — Designing Safety at Home: light curtains, new bedding, a room that says “stay”

26:43 — Catalyst Moment: the empty resource list—and why this podcast exists

29:39 — Breaking Stigma: “What does she have to be depressed about?”—and the answer

32:43 — Cliff to Next Episode: discharge on the horizon, outpatient ahead

Your Turn

This week’s gentle check-in: “Where could one small change—more light, a softer pillow, a scheduled check-in—signal big love for you or someone you care about?”

If you need support today: dial/text 988. You’re not alone.

What if the hardest part of loving someone is surrendering control so they can learn to breathe again? Today, we step onto the mountain together—one careful, shaking step at a time.

In this episode, we move from the base of the mountain to starting the climb. We talk candidly about our first ER visit after an attempt, what it was like to be separated for hours, and the moment we held hands again and knew there was work to do—even if we didn’t know what that work looked like yet.

I (Mom) speak to the shock, anger, and grief of a parent realizing she can’t keep her child safe alone. And I (daughter) share the numbness, the fragments my mind won’t let me access, and the fear of disappointing my mom more than the fear of dying. 

We walk through ER protocols, locked units, paper scrubs, and the transfer to inpatient—how terrifying it felt, and also how it became the first real foothold.

Content note: We talk about suicide in clear terms. If you need support, call or text 988 (U.S.). Pause when you need to; we’ll be here when you’re ready.

If you need to talk, the 988 Lifeline is here.

At the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, we understand that life's challenges can sometimes be difficult. Whether you're facing mental health struggles, emotional distress, alcohol or drug use concerns, or just need someone to talk to, our caring counselors are here for you. You are not alone.

https://988lifeline.org/

Key Themes & Takeaways

Naming the mountain: Mental health isn’t a single summit—it’s ongoing care, like physical health.

Two truths at once: Parents carry shock and grief; teens carry shame and fear. Both stories matter.

Systems & safety: ER holds, locked units, and inpatient care can feel dehumanizing and lifesaving.

Letting others in: Teachers, counselors, coaches, clinicians—community is part of safety.

The reframe: “Starting the climb” begins with admitting we can’t do it alone.

Quotes To Take With You

“What if you were more afraid of disappointing me than of dying?”

“I can only remember snippets—my mind is protecting me from myself.”

“I realized I cannot keep my child safe by myself anymore.”

“It felt like a dystopian dream… paper scrubs, plastic pillow, nowhere to hide.”

“Light bulbs went off: this is real, and I have to address it—or I’ll never get out.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — The Disclaimer, Again - Why we revisit the content note and what “the climb” means for this season.

01:16 — ER, Separation, and the Hand Squeeze - Hours apart, then the moment we knew there was work ahead.

04:18 — Memory as Armor - Numbness, missing pieces, and the brain’s way of protecting itself.

06:08 — Labs, Confession, and Complicated Anger - What the bloodwork revealed, the fear of consequences, and a mother’s shock.

18:03 — The Hold - Paper scrubs, locked doors, and why safety sometimes feels like punishment.

24:16 — Two Stories, One Crisis - Why the parent’s story matters too—and how both truths can coexist.

28:02 — Inpatient Transfer at 1 a.m. - The referral, the waitlist, and finally crossing the threshold.

31:35 — A First Foothold - Guarded openness, taking time for self, and the choice to begin.

Your Turn — This week’s reflection:

Where do you need help holding the rope—so you can take the next step?

If you’re feeling unsafe, please reach out to 988 (call or text). If that feels too big, start smaller: a teacher, a friend, a counselor, a coach—someone who can sit with you while you find your footing. You are loved.

Some conversations change you while you’re still having them. This is one of those—and I’m inviting you into it, messy nerves, shaky voice, hopeful heart and all.

Before we get into anything, a quick “mom disclaimer”: this episode talks honestly about mental health and includes mentions of suicide. If you need to pause, breathe, or come back later, please do. We cried recording it. You might cry listening. There’s light here, but we don’t skip the tunnel.

This conversation began because of our real life. COVID years scrambled our family’s map—Vancouver, a Mississippi hotel room for school, a brief stop outside Memphis, then Duluth. 

Middle school turned into a storm no one was ready for. By the end of 8th grade, my daughter Ileini had her first hospitalization. Another came after 9th. Now she’s starting her senior year, and we’re both different people. Today we opened the mic to name what happened, so maybe one person out there feels less alone—and so we can keep healing, together.

If you need to talk, the 988 Lifeline is here.

At the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, we understand that life's challenges can sometimes be difficult. Whether you're facing mental health struggles, emotional distress, alcohol or drug use concerns, or just need someone to talk to, our caring counselors are here for you. You are not alone.

https://988lifeline.org/

Key Themes & Takeaways

Naming the hard thing is the first kind of help.

Parents don’t need all the answers; they need to listen and get resourced.

Systems can feel cold, but mandated steps exist to keep kids alive.

Identity, isolation, and transition compound—race, place, age, ADHD, and the pressure of “adulthood.”

Control is not love. Presence is.

It’s okay to be terrified and still do the next right thing.

Quotes To Take With You

“I will always fight for you—even if it means fighting against you.”

“You don’t have to have the blueprint to be a good parent; you have to show up and listen.”

“I couldn’t say the words, so I typed them in my Notes app and handed over my phone.”

“When we walked into the ER, hope and fear held the same hand.”

Chapter Markers

00:00 — The Mom Disclaimer -  Why we’re talking about mental health, and how to care for yourself while listening.

01:20 — Why We’re Here - COVID, moves, isolation, and the spark for this podcast.

06:26 — “Adulthood Is Coming” - The 8th-grade cliff: fear, identity, and the weight of growing up.

10:34 — Finding Words Without Speaking - Ileini’s counselor, the Notes app, and the moment help became possible.

13:45 — Mandated Next Steps - The therapist, the call, and what happens when safety comes first.

17:21 — Straight to the ER - Muscle memory from my old job, locked doors, and a parent’s terror.

22:04 — Waiting on the Other Side of the Wall - Powerlessness, caseworkers, and learning that control isn’t care.

31:04 — Choosing Life, Again and Again - Why telling someone is an act of hope—even when you feel done.

33:21 — Dear Parents: Shut Up & Listen - The hardest advice I give myself, and the invitation to grow with your kid.

36:53 — What We’ll Share Next Time - Holding some details for Part 2: the ER play-by-play and what changed after.

Your Turn

This week’s journal prompt:

“Where do I reach for control when what’s really needed is presence?”

If you’re the parent, try: “What would ‘shut up and listen’ look like in my next hard conversation?”

If you’re the teen (or the you-that-still-feels-like-a-teen), try: “What’s one safer way I could say what I can’t say out loud?”