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Do you have a minute?

Do you have a minute to talk?

Words that some people need to hear, words that some want people to ask them, words that some people avoid.

I recently got interviewed on the podcast Do you have a Minute (link below, the one I'm interviewed in is called "The I in BrIttany")

Two beautiful ladies, Allison and Lacie, took the time to interview me with such kind, thoughtful, gentle, open and compassionate hearts and minds. In this interview I talk very openly and honestly about my story and about my sister's story. I talk about mental health and suicide. I also talk about the day my sister took her life which I remember so vividly. I've actually never written about or talked about publicly due to it triggering my PTSD.

The morning after I did the interview I woke up feeling lighter. I woke up feeling calm and free. This day is one I will never forget. It was so traumatic, I wish there was another word to describe it. It happened when we were all there (my parents and I) and I remember the sounds, the smells, the faces, the details. When I was telling this story it was almost as if I had to just spit them out with careful abandon ( I was going to say reckless but my thoughts, opinions, views and words were anything but reckless). I had to keep going because I feared if I hesitated or stopped at any point my PTSD would catch up with me. It was a game of cat and mouse and I had to keep running before I was caught. Before I would collapse and crumble and my heart would break all over again. I just kept going. I kept talking. I kept forming the memory until it took place no longer in my mind but took residence in the room. I can't even remember if I took a breath. If the oxygen just flowed in without me noticing. My mind racing so rapidly. Part of my PTSD are vivid pictures, vivid images that pop up about specific parts of that day. If they materialize and do not disappear I have to physically close my eyes and shake my head to get them out. I expected this to happen when I was telling the story but every time I felt one coming I would close my eyes and push through.

deep breath

deep breath

Finally, it was over. One long needed breath. My tense shoulders let down and my heart searched my soul for the sadness it was expecting to feel. I talk, post and write so openly about my story but this was the one thing I've never done. It was as if I had a secret that I couldn't tell and it was the one last piece I needed to whisper ever so gently into someone's ear. A secret that wouldn't hurt anyone for telling but would slowly eat away at my insides if I kept it in any longer.

Thank you Allison and Lacie for allowing me the safe space and time to tell my story without any judgment. Also a warning, you may want to avoid listening if you have a sensitivity to talk of mental health disorders or suicide. I do go into detail of the day my sister took her life and it may be a trigger to some. If you are fine with the above, please click the link below and take a listen.

Be kind. Be open. Be understanding. Be compassionate. Be honest.

I am BrIttany.

Link Below

(The ladies of Do you have a Minute- Lacie- left, Me- middle, Allison-right)


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