Fighting My Brain: A Mom’s Real Battle

What I wanted to do yesterday.
What I told myself to do.
& what I actually did.

Yesterday was a battle with my own brain.

It started with a sick child clinging to my arm. The kind of clingy that was past cute & deep into I love you, but I also love space.

Meanwhile, when I finally reached for my phone, I nervously checked for confirmation that a friend & I were still going out—& that’s when the spiral began.

My brain whispered:
“She’s not answering because she doesn’t want to go.”

Reality: she’s just one of those ‘unless I hear otherwise, we’re still on’ kind of friends.

Then I learned my husband was taking the kids trunk-or-treating.

My brain whispered: You’re a bad mom for choosing your own outing over your favorite holiday with the kids.

Reality: I had to remind myself—out loud—that self-care for moms is allowed. That I’m still a good parent even when I take time for me.

But guilt is sneaky.

photo credit: @realdepressionproject

I felt the cloud rolling in. I felt my self-esteem drop. So, when I saw the red on the traffic map, it felt like a metaphor—everything slowing down, everything blocked.

My brain: It’s not worth it.
Driving through shady streets: Why did I even try?

Too many thoughts for something I was supposed to be excited about. The depression—every choice felt not just wrong but consuming.

photo credit: @realdepressionproject

Finding Joy Through the Fog

Reality: Then—she showed up.
We said hi.
& just like that, the cloud started to lift.

I remembered why I was excited: this friend is safe.

The kind who would ask, “How are you doing?” & I could answer honestly: “I’m a friggin mess.”

We talked a bit about the hard stuff, while doing little kindness missions. & the day I almost didn’t show up for became exactly what I needed.

The Psychology of Depression as a Parent

Depression isn’t just sadness—it’s a cognitive & behavioral pattern that distorts truth.

It rewires your thoughts, makes you question every decision, & convinces you you’re failing—even when you’re not.

It’s not weakness.
It’s a symptom.

Sometimes, it’s a cloud that rolls in & blocks my view of myself. & like all clouds, it passes.

So today, I remind myself—
☁️ Clouds don’t last forever. ☀️

photo credit: @realdepressionproject

🧠 For Anyone Fighting Their Brain Today

If you’ve ever felt the weight of intrusive thoughts, mom guilt, or invisible sadness—you’re not broken.
You’re human.
& you’re not alone.

💬 What helps you fight your brain on the hard days?

Share in the comments or reach out—because talking about mental health is how we change it.

Things I’ve Learned

Before I end this post, I wanted to share some things I reflected on while writing this…

It can feel hard to have honest conversations with friends—about love languages, needs, or realities. But the truth is, the harder it felt to bring up, the better it felt afterward. Knowing how we each communicate & care strengthened our friendship in ways I didn’t expect.

Even small things—like checking how to confirm plans, or whether someone prefers a text or a call—make a difference. It’s not overthinking; it’s understanding.

I also learned the importance of respecting each other’s ways of being. My friend brought activities for us to do while we chatted, & that helped me more than she could’ve known. Having something to focus on pulled me out of my mental snowball. I didn’t have to stare at someone’s face & feel the full weight of my emotions—I could just listen.

Then, when we got kicked out of one location, I could’ve used that as an excuse to go home, but I didn’t. I found strength in saying, No—let’s keep going. We moved somewhere nearby & ended up doing some amazing #11kActs there. It reminded me that sometimes, pushing past the easy exit is what lets joy find me.

I also learned how much alignment can exist even in disagreement. I love everything about Mary’s happiness, & that we can laugh about our differences—like when she said she hates the phrase “holding space.” We didn’t shame or shut each other down. Instead, it was: “Tell me more about that.” That openness is what real friendship looks like.

& finally, one of our little joy missions brought happiness to someone who “didn’t know they needed it.” Watching her smile reminded me—we all have invisible battles in our brains. She was sitting there with friends, smiling on the outside, but still holding something heavy inside.

That’s what connection does. It reminds us we’re not the only ones. We’re not alone.