me, my mental health & i.

With it being mental health awareness month I contemplated openly discussing my love hate relationship with my own mental health and share my stories and tips on how to deal with it if you’re struggling. 

So buckle up buttercup. This is a judgement free zone and may come as a shock to some.

I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression and PTSD at a very very young age. Like, started seeing a counselor at like age 11 and saw one until I was about 16/17. Let me be hopefully not the first to tell you that seeing a counselor does NOT make you weak. You are just working through your shit and sometimes it helps having a paid professional who has no personal ties to you to talk to.

Without going into the heavy details my childhood compared to most was a little rocky. Overall it shaped me into the person I am today so I can’t pity myself for it. Shit happens. As my grandma likes to say “you were the one who had a bad situation and instead of dwelling on it you used it to better yourself”, cue water works right before my college graduation.

I learned at a very young age how to cope with my thoughts and how to process things in a different way when something bad happens or just thoughts in general. At age 25, sometimes I still struggle with how to handle things in a healthy way. Guess what though? That’s okay. There is no age limit.

I did my time trying out different medications. It’s not for me. I know some people who swear by it and love it but for me personally it left me foggy and sometimes made the awful things running through my head much much worse. Sadly, it also is like a trial and error when it comes to medication because not all works for everyone the same. Plus the withdrawals…oh my gosh the withdrawals can be a bitch. I’ve heard weed helps for some people as well. That’s a negative ghost rider for me as well. When I was younger whenever I did smoke I’d have anxiety attacks. I did not like not being in control. I never have and most likely never will.

Ways I have combated my own head:

  1. This website for starters. I found an outlet to get things out in hopes of not just helping myself and having something to look back on and reflect but also possibly help others if needed. Writing is therapeutic 100%.
  2. I’ve taken personal days where I will just go somewhere and just walk around and be with myself and just as corny as it sounds…be alive. The most recent one was Earth Day in April. April is a hard month for me given Bri’s death anniversary and her birthday. I went to Middleton Place Plantation and walked for hours. I sat by ponds and just was “there”. I don’t know how else to describe it but it helps. 
  3. I cut back on my drinking. I would go on binges where it would be days of just drinking. If I couldn’t sleep I’d have a drink. If I was stressed, I’d have a drink. I’ll still go out or have wine occasionally but I had to have a sit down with myself a couple times when life got tough and be like “Hunter….don’t use that as a crutch.”
  4. Art. Pick your poison. Be it photography or painting etc. 
  5. Video games help with frustration and concentration. Your mind goes from concentrating on the vile things in your head to blowing up stuff on your TV or computer.
  6. Music. When I am feeling down driving and blasting music has been my go to for years. Again, I think it is due to you have to concentrate on driving so it takes your mind off the negative. Blasting your favorite songs and just dancing it out is so therapeutic as well.  

One topic I wanted to talk more about is post traumatic stress disorder. Guess what…it’s not only a war thing. When I was younger I had a pretty mild case of it due to some situations that I couldn’t process and over time the thoughts went away. A lot of therapy helped. About two months ago I was diagnosed again with PTSD only this time it was a lot…heavier than I expected. The ironic thing was I made jokes like “I bet that shit gave me PTSD”….welp.

The thing with PTSD that I’ve learned recently is that your triggers don’t have to be a direct link to the thing that caused it. As my lovely counselor says it can be literally a feeling and then BAM there you are. Another scary thing, one second you can be fine and another you can have an extremely visual nightmare or I call them “daymares” (because you can be wide awake) and boy can it mess with your head. They can be flashbacks to the event itself or just horrible visuals. I remember back in October/November I kept having daymares for like a week straight. I could be sitting in my office at work or shooting a concert and randomly I would picture someone close to me dying right in front of me. Different ways sometimes but overall it was the same result. Then the uncontrollable urge to start crying happens. Imagine being in a public as fuck place and randomly start to cry. lol I laugh because I just remember myself working the Allen Stone show and standing on the stairs taking photos and realizing I was crying. There was ZERO reason for me to be sad at that moment.

That’s PTSD. It’s like a hidden bomb within your head and one second you are fine and the other it’s like “time to cry bitch” or “Oh, life is going perfect and you’re happy? Here is a nightmare of this person blowing their brains out at your front door one night and another night let’s have them OD.”

I warned you to buckle up.

The mind plays games with you. Sometimes (for me personally) the visuals can mess you up so horribly that for a day or so you really have to question “did that happen or did I imagine it?”

I’m not a professional but even anxiety and stress has caused nightmares. There have been a few that shook me to my core. One being that (and if you know me personally like my mother who reads these don’t call me freaking out hahaha I’m good.) about four years ago I had a dream that it was me standing in our doorway of my bedroom. Crying and borderline psychotic laughing I guess and just outright blew my brains right out. I woke up in the middle of the night screaming and in a cold sweat. No reason to have it, but after a few days I realized it was due to stress.

It was like a visual representation of me losing my shit and mind.

This brings me to my second topic, anxiety. Over the last few years I’ve noticed many people now have “anxiety”. I don’t know when the entire planet (exaggeration) became so anxious but if you do have it I feel your pain. It’s crippling. It really is some days. Some days I wake up and have to physically make myself get up and go about my day. It makes relationships hard as well. Some days I’m happy as can be and then other’s I can fall off the planet like no one matters to me and just be a hermit. When my anxiety is bad I’ll either forget to eat or eat everything. There have been days where it will be like 10 at night and it dawns on me that I hadn’t eaten a single thing all day.

For me personally, not speaking for everyone, it can also make you question the people around you. For instance I am sometimes in a battle with thinking “do my friends even like me?” and I’m talking friends I’ve had for YEARS. Friends that if they didn’t like me they have a really funny way of showing it haha. Then, ya know relationships. I remember a few years back when I had started taking prozac and needless to say…it did not agree with me. My boyfriend at the time was working out of town and I was withdrawing because I just did not like how it made me feel and just not having a fun time with it (haha). At first he thought I was over exaggerating and then one night I vaguely remember going on a rant about being a burden. My head went to a dark spot and he realized I was not exaggerating after all and was really struggling with the coming off the medication and his mom came and checked on me because he was so worried I wasn’t okay. For the record, I wasn’t “okay” but I was “okay”. If that makes sense. After my attempt at 16 and seeing it’s toll on my family and then seeing and feeling the affects of my best friend dying….don’t worry. My ass isn’t going any where. For anyone reading this who may need to hear it… NOTHING AND NO ONE IS WORTH LEAVING THIS WORLD. There is always a light at the end of that tunnel and please for the love of whatever…remember that. There is always a sunrise. Every morning. Without fail. Make sure you see that.

But it’s moments like that…being with someone who sometimes doesn’t always love themselves is a struggle. For a while I hid my anxiety from guys I talked to or dated. I was embarrassed and also thought they’d be like “oh this bitch crazy” haha It takes a special person to handle it. Friends or partners.

There is a Halsey song that I feel like if you have any form of mental “disorders” or what ever you may relate to. Her lyrics “I’m well acquainted with villains that live in my head. They beg me to write them so they’ll never die when I’m dead. And I’ve grown familiar with villains that live in my head. They beg me to write them so I’ll never die when I’m dead.” hit home. Because if you have EVER had an anxiety or a panic attack you’ll know when I say…they’re fucking terrifying. Once you have one though you fucking remember the warning signs. One thing that I started doing was when I started to feel anxious or like an attack was coming along I would count with one hand to 4 over and over. Like thumb to pinkie, to ring finger, middle and pointer. 1, 2, 3, 4 until I could feel myself catch my breath. Now sometimes sadly that plan fails haha then your whole body (or for me my back and shoulders) tense up and you (well me) do this nervous tick of like rolling your shoulders. As a way to shake it off basically. I’ve drawn blood on my palms from my grip during an anxiety attack.

*claps hands together* “And that kids is anxiety as told by Hunter.”

As I am writing this I can feel the anxiety build. Because I’m a very open person for the most part. I used to not be and then I got to the point where I’m like “I kind of just don’t give a fuck what people think at this point I can’t change it.” I’ve openly discussed my suicide attempt at 16 (which if ya didn’t know…ha well), my best friend’s death and it’s toll on me, my personal struggles with feeling good about myself and battling your own self destruction to not push yourself further. There are some topics however I am still terrified to open up about. I have them saved in drafts and will I publish them one day? I don’t know. Should I? Maybe if I think it would help someone.

My own mental health…falls into that category. Why though? Because even though we are slowly becoming more and more open to talking about mental health…there is that fear of judgement. There are so many platforms that have the #itsokaytonotbeokay or something along those lines but not everyone shares their stories.

Share your stories. Share your struggles. Don’t be ashamed of your demons. Blow them up so that they don’t scare you anymore. Like (total nerd mode) Boggarts in Harry Potter. Don’t let fear take over. Yell Riddikulus and turn that shit into Snape wearing lady’s clothes.

That’s all I’ve got today. More than I expected but ya know what…if it helps someone then great. Fellow writers…isn’t this a bitch? You feel this urge to share personal stories.

Much love as always,


If anyone reading this is struggling and needs an outlet. 


Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255




I remember the day I found Norma. I felt around a few times and was thinking “what the fuck is this?!” It was in the fall of 2016 and I can’t even remember why I felt my right breast at that moment but you talk about a moment of panic.

I then ignored it for a bit. Thinking it was just a fluke of some kind but occasionally feeling a sharp pain randomly almost like an alarm clock saying “hey…..hunter….go to the doctor.” Finally in March of 2017 when I had my yearly I mentioned it to my doctor. He told me to lower my caffeine intake and that it could be like a cyst or something and that “some women just have lumpy breasts” and also said that sometimes they move around or get bigger and then go back down.

Well….I lowered my caffeine and checked it EVERY DAY. No change. Not even a little. It did not move around. It was stuck in the same spot inside my boob like some chained prisoner. April I went back and spoke about my concerns and he brushed it off again and said that we just switched up my birth control from hormones to no hormones (ladies…I know IUD’s are scary but switching to the non-hormonal IUD was the best choice I’ve ever made! Anyways..) At this point I was becoming very angry and scared. I asked my family if we had any people in our family who had breast cancer. Nope. So then I was looking up the odds I had it. In May, I went to my family doctor who I’ve had since I was like 12. Explained what was going on and had him feel what I was referring to. The look of slight anger on my doctor’s face when I told him how my “lady doc” had responded to me when I told him was priceless. He immediately said he was scheduling a mammogram or at least an ultrasound.

The earliest appointment was June.

June 20th, I met my “boob mate” Norma. Have you ever seen Bates Motel? You know the mom…Norma? That sneaky bitch? Yeah that’s where Norma got her name from.

Meet Norma.

Norma, she was about an inch and a half here and I think almost an inch or so wide at this point.

During the visit and after two doctors looked at this mass in my boob they asked to do a biopsy. I remember just sitting on that doctor’s bed thing and calling my at the time boss and telling her that my quick doctor visit on my lunch break was going longer than I expected and then just breaking down crying. She asked if I was okay and asked if I wanted anyone to come be with me and I just said no. She gave me the rest of the off because I was about to be poked with a big ass needle and probably wasn’t going to be feeling so hot after.

If you’ve never had a biopsy done this is how it goes. They numb up the area (or at least for me they did) and then they take this big ass needle thing that looks like it has a trigger on the other side and some how it takes parts of whatever they are needing to biopsy. You know those heavy duty staplers? Think of that sound. You feel pressure and hear it but I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t watch them do it but I watched through the ultrasound. After they’re done taking some samples they leave like a clip (I don’t know the technical term sorry haha) so that if you ever have an X-ray or ultra sound etc they will be able to see that you’ve had a biopsy before.

On my Instagram I used to record myself doing “car chats” and I filmed this..posted it…and then took it down because I was terrified. I’m more open now about it but at the time I was freaking out.

The next 48 hours were hell. My boob looked like I had been brutally attacked or had some flesh eating disease (deep purple and green bruises) and when I finally got the call they said it was a fibroadenoma. Basically a non cancerous tumor that happens in younger women. They told me I would be fine but if at any point it caused me discomfort to get it removed given it’s size. They said that it may become an issue when I decided to have children because of breast feeding etc etc but I had to come back every 6 months for follow up appointments.

Cool right? Just what every 23 year old wants to hear.

Fast forward to December. Norma was a bitch. I would randomly have these shooting pains that the only thing that would help would be to just hold it. Legit hold my fucking boob until the pain passed. I got my letter around Christmas reminding me that I needed to go for my follow up appointment. Let me also add…I noticed Norma grew. Hence why I was having more pain because she was on the move. I still refused to go to the doctor. I was in denial and just felt that I was better not knowing.

My bosses said otherwise. They talked me into going and finally in February I went and had a follow up appointment.

I was right she had grown. She had gone from about 1 1/2 inches to almost 2 inches long. They said that fibroadenomas didn’t always grow that fast and were concerned it was a phyllodes tumor which in fact some CAN be cancerous. They then recommended instead of waiting to go ahead and meet with a breast surgeon.

After my appointment I posted this photo on my feed. In case you don’t feel like clicking that link it was:

“There’s days that I wish I would have just stayed in bed and ignored the reality of things. Then another part of me knows that’s not the answer and that you have to stay positive and strong. Even when you’re needing to cry in the parking lot of a hospital. Norma (my breast tumor), has gotten bigger. I had my follow up check in on it and got the lovely update. The doctor thinks it may be a different type of tumor but without another biopsy we won’t know for certain. Basically, they’re saying it needs to come out sooner than later just in case. As I sit in my car typing this I know many don’t care to know my business. Which is totally fine. This is more for me. To look back on a year and beyond from now and remember how small I feel but how I also know that I have to be bigger than this whatever it is and I can’t let it get the best of me. The sun rose as I went over the bridge this morning as pictured above and it should be a sign that things are going to be okay. ❤️ Right now however I just want a stiff drink and it’s not even noon….”

f3524f43-dacc-407c-98bf-2d2051cbe7e4I was so angry. So so angry. I sat in my car for over 30 minutes just crying. I don’t have the exact measurements from that day but I remember seeing Norma on the ultrasound and seeing how even the shape had changed. A couple weeks later I met with my surgeon and when she measured it again…it grew more. By the end of it or at least the last time they measured it and told me the measurements Norma was about 1.7 inches long and 0.78 inches wide and about the same thick. She was like a mini brick just chilling in my boob causing me pain.

March 27th 2018, Norma was evicted. The last thing I remember was them putting something in my IV and then two seconds later it seemed I was out cold. I woke up facing a wall in post-op and starting to freak out. I had no idea where I was, I was in pain and just alone. The nurse came over and the first fucking question I asked was “Where is Norma?” She had no fucking idea what this drugged up girl was talking about. But I repeated myself and then also said “I want to take her home I made her” hahaha I didn’t get to see her. I did look up youtube videos prior to my surgery though so I have a good idea as to how she looked.

2018-10-21 11:06:11.976

The following couple weeks and month’s were a..struggle. I couldn’t find the videos of before surgery but I was very angry for a while there. Here I was 23 and having body altering surgery and as a young woman…as vain as it sounds I was pissed that I wasn’t going to look like myself anymore. There is a size difference now. I have a scar going right over my boob and some clothes or bathing suits don’t fit the same way they used to. Bras?! Forget about it. I’m never going to find a comfy bra ever. One side will always be either too tight or too loose. Small problems to have but ya know…

I remember a couple days after my surgery crying to my at the time boyfriend about how disgusting I looked. My entire boob and I mean ENTIRE BOOB was bruised and parts were shades of green. I kept calling it Frankenboob.

2018-10-21 11:05:02.884

Everything came back good though I’m happy to report. I just had a angry fibroadenoma that liked to grow and cause me pain. It’s been a little over a year now since the surgery and I’ll still have some discomfort. Which is normal. My nerves are still adjusting apparently. I also…which I don’t know if this was intentional but, part of my boob is basically numb. I can feel things but it doesn’t feel the same I guess is the best way to put it.

Now the doctor bills…oh my lord the doctor bills. Thank God for insurance but it still is costing me about $4k (one bill alone before insurance was over $10k..)

I decided to write about this because you never know. You don’t. Many girls and guys my age don’t think to check into these things. What if it would have been cancer? What if I would have just ignored it. What if what if what if.

If any one has further questions of any kind or has also experienced something similar feel free to reach out. I had a lot of questions when I first started learning about Norma and believe you me I was terrified.

If you made it this far wonderful, if not then that’s fine too. 🙂

Go ahead and brush ya shoulders off..

The other day someone who I have not seen in forever made a comment that has stuck with me.
Paraphrasing but:
“I’m so glad you got out of that. I always felt like it brought you down when you’re a cool girl all on your own.”

You don’t think about things like that until someone points it out to you.

Year 24 I feel like has been a year of growth. I’m still working on myself. It’s going to take time but progress has been made for sure. I still have a couple months until I turn 25 (wait what…I feel like I just had a birthday…) but I feel like I aged more this year than any other fucking year of my life.

One adjustment is the whole being “alone” thing.

Why are we as humans so scared about being alone? At the end of the day you have yourself. Surprise surprise right? Only you can be responsible for you. You have to remember your self worth. Yes, have your breakdown nights where you drink too much and get emotional. Do that shit in moderation though because the next morning you wake up thinking “bitch, get a hold of yourself because you are awesome.”

Also… IT’S. OKAY. TO. CALL. YOURSELF. BITCH. it’s not always in a mean way. I do it all the time when I have to have a talk with myself.

Sometimes you need to have a talk with yourself. It’s not crazy believe me. You have to be your own cheerleader or that dude at games that pumps up the crowds and gets the people going.
Physical health is important but mental health is possibly even more. For real though. Lately, I have felt hypocritical if I’m honest. So this is a letter to whomever needs it as well as to myself.
You can get so down and so anxious that the only thing you want to do is stay in bed and binge watch Gilmore Girls or The Office until you pass out. As Lorelai Gilmore says in her most perfect way

“Get back in your pajamas, go to bed, eat nothing but gallons of ice cream and tons of pizza. Don’t take a shower or shave your legs or put on any kind of makeup at all. And just sit in the dark and watch a really sad movie and have a good long cry and just wallow. You need to wallow.”

Yas freaking queen. *insert those hallelujah emoji hands*

Once that’s done though, be the boss bitch you are and pick yourself back up. It’s okay to not be okay. It makes you human. If you didn’t have low moments I’d be a little worried about you.

For me personally, whenever I am stressed out or anxious I become the worst workaholic EVER. I will keep myself as busy as possible even if that means working insane hours to avoid having to just sit and be with myself. What’s that saying I hear the younger generations say? “Bish what?” Because legit bish what?? No. Like Steve Carell yelling no over and over. Just no. Because all that is going to do (and I say this from experience) is make you crash and burn one day and you’re going to look like an exhausted mess that starts crying and not realizing it because you’re so damned tired. (waves to herself as she was working a show in October…ha ha)

Basically ladies and gents…again it is okay to not be okay. Just don’t lose yourself in the process. Water yourself like you would a plant (also stay hydrated because that a legit issue too…I feel you on that). You’re going to grow daily. It’s okay if you’re not in the same place you were a month ago…shit even a day ago. So much can change in a day.

That’s all. I’ve gotten better about being more open about things. (Y’all seem to like it too so win?)

Okay, go be awesome.

Love, H

“Boss up and change your life.” – Lizzo




I make the joke that 2018 was basically two years in one for me.

Because looking back on January 1, 2018 and yesterday (New Years Eve 2018) I don’t feel like the same person.

Everything in my life changed this year. Literally everything I was used to.

Last New Years I had bronchitis. I was extremely sick after wandering D.C. with a cold in 30-40° weather for two days. To me that should have been a sign that 2018 was going to be a shit show haha.

January, I gained a promotion in my job. (Yay!)

February, I found out I needed to have a lumpectomy for breast tumor Norma.

March, I had said surgery.

April 1st…was one of the worst days ever and the days following. Which led to us saying goodbye to one of our dogs.

May, I graduated from college and turned 24 (yay!) on the same day but was crying during my college graduation ceremony because my at the time boyfriend didn’t show up.

The end of May and June were both a blur for me personally. A lot of personal things changed and set the path for an even bigger change.

July, I ended a 6 year chapter of my life and basically started over.

From January to July I cried a lot. I was extremely depressed and I honestly didn’t realize how depressed I was until I ended everything. I had lost weight due to stress and basically chain smoking. I was drinking very heavily after I broke things off for about a month or almost two. I went out a lot more than before because I could. I felt numb. Like I didn’t really know what to do because it was like a huge weight was gone.

Then it was like a light switch.

I started laughing more. I started doing better at both jobs. I was able to concentrate more on me.

I started to feel happy again. My nightmares started to go away (that I had been having for about eight months) and I wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night panicked. Friends and family stated they saw a difference in my demeanor and just saw how happy I was overall.

I became more open to letting people in again. My coworkers and friends talked me into dating again because I was scared to. At first I was worried about what people would think. “Oh my gosh she moved on so fast!” “Oh wow it’s only been a couple months.” “She obviously didn’t love ______” the list went on in my head. Then those around me told me that the people who matter know everything and won’t judge me.

So I said fuck it. The support was overwhelming and it was actually wonderful.

When I say 2018 felt like two years it’s because one felt very dark and very lonely and the other one was a breath of fresh air and full of happiness and love. As corny as fuck as that sounds but literally I can’t think of anything bad that has happened since July for me. I even quit smoking.

If 2018 taught me anything it’s that sometimes you have to do what scares you to do what’s best for you. There is no rule book. You have to do it on your own.

Here’s to 2019. If it’s anything like my last couple months then bring it on.