Welcome Aboard the Hot Mess Express!

The First Rule of Fight Club Is Silence
(And I’m Breaking It.)

Today has been a hard day. Actually… scratch that. It’s been a hard several weeks. I’ve literally had to will myself to get out of bed most mornings, and to “just breathe”. The thought of waking up and going through motions to get through each day has been exhausting. And I’m done pretending it hasn’t. I want to talk about something that most people would rather sweep under the rug: mental health and depression. Those who know my story know I’m not quiet about mental health reform. I believe in access. I believe in support. I believe in catching people before they fall through the cracks.

And what can I tell you from personal experience? The system is exhausting. It’s red tape. It’s waitlists. It’s being told you’re “so strong” while you’re barely holding it together. It’s calling for help and getting voicemail. It’s doing the right things and still feeling like you’re losing.

It’s frustrating. It’s defeating. And sometimes it feels like complete and utter nonsense. But the bigger problem?

The silence.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Fight Club with Brad Pitt and Edward Norton. In Fight Club, we meet a man who looks like he has it all together on the outside: job, apartment, routine, but inside he’s unraveling. He’s exhausted, numb, disconnected, and desperate to feel something real. Enter Tyler Durden: bold, reckless, magnetic. Everything the narrator thinks he’s not. What starts as a secret outlet for frustration in a grimy basement spirals into chaos, rebellion, and destruction.

In Fight Club, the first rule is simple:
You do not talk about Fight Club.

And the second rule?
You do NOT talk about Fight Club.

This is all too familiar to me. Because when it comes to depression, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, burnout, trauma, the unspoken rule is the same:

You don’t talk about it. You smile. You function. You post the cute picture. You say, “I’m fine.” Meanwhile, there’s a full-blown fight happening in the basement of your own mind. And no one sees it.

Depression isn’t dramatic most days. It’s subtle. It’s cunning. You wouldn’t believe the number of people I’ve had come up to me and tell me, “You don’t look like you’re depressed!” As if I’m supposed to go out in public, unshowered, hair not brushed, clothes wrinkled and dirty, just so I can keep up appearances.

Unfortunately, this is not how depression works. This is why it’s known as “The Silent Killer”. Its victims suffer in silence while it slowly destroys them from the inside out, because society has told us that it is taboo. That’s the way it has to be. Not to be talked about. We don’t talk about Fight Club.

It’s folding laundry and feeling nothing. It’s driving in silence because music feels overwhelming. It’s being surrounded by people you love and still feeling alone. It’s being productive and still feeling like you didn’t do enough. It’s showing up for everyone else while quietly wondering who’s showing up for you.

And let’s clear something up. This isn’t some edgy, made-up fight club people join for attention. This is a real battle. A fight for your mind. A fight for your peace. Sometimes, a fight for your life.

One of the most haunting parts of Fight Club is the twist. Realizing the chaos wasn’t some outside villain. It was internal. It was coming from within.

Depression can feel like that too. Like there’s a voice in your head that doesn’t sound like you, but somehow knows exactly where to hit.

“You’re not enough.”
“You’re failing.”
“Everyone else is handling life better.”
“You’re just lazy.”

You can be blessed. You can be loved. You can be successful. You can have faith. And still struggle. Both can exist.

And here’s where I’m going to get real. Faith doesn’t mean you won’t fight battles in your mind. Strength doesn’t mean you won’t feel weak some days. Being a mental health advocate doesn’t mean you’re immune from mental health struggles.

I can love Jesus with my whole heart and still have hard weeks. I can encourage others and still need encouragement. I can preach resilience and still feel tired.

That doesn’t make me fake. That makes me human. The silence is what keeps people stuck. Silence whispers:

“You’re the only one.”
“No one else feels like this.”
“If you were stronger, you’d be fine.”

But I promise you, there are way more people fighting in that basement than you realize. They’re just really good at hiding the bruises.

So here’s me breaking the first rule. I’m talking about it. Because pretending everything is fine when it isn’t? That’s exhausting. I am not okay right now, but guess what?

It’s okay to not be okay!

And if even one person reads this and feels less alone, it’s worth it.

If you’re in a hard season right now, hear me: You are not lazy. You are not dramatic. You are not weak. You are not a burden.
You are fighting something invisible. And that takes strength people can’t even see.

If today (or this week) has felt heavy for you too, I see you. Truly. And if you’re ever in a place where the fight feels bigger than you, please reach out to a friend, to family, to a counselor, to 988. You do not have to fight alone.

We don’t need a secret club. We need honesty. We need community.
We need light.

And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk up those basement stairs and open the door. Because every day you are able to get up and just breathe, is another day that depression does not win 🤍