Thirteen.

For some, it’s considered unlucky. For me, thirteen was the number of years between my two hospitalizations for depression. These years represented a time period of ups and downs, of profound despair intermixed with times of joy. My two hospitalizations were bookends for a tumultuous time in my life.

Now, thirteen is my number of hope.

This morning, while driving my children to school, I glanced up at the overcast clouds blanketing the sky and thought, “Let It Rain!” Uncharacteristically cool and dark for a May morning in Dallas, this weather has proven to create the perfect day to officially launch the Welcome The Rain movie.

I wonder why I have the tendency to use superlatives when describing my birthdays? My happiest birthday. My worst birthday. My darkest birthday. (Dark being my euphemism for depressed.) My most fun birthday…EVER! I, as I’m sure many of you, have such high expectations for this day. This day carries with it an extra weight. Have I accomplished what I thought I would accomplish? As a child, did I envision that my life would be different than it actually is? Do I really behave like a ___ - year old?

Today, I turn 31.

It’s easy for us to talk about our physical health. We’ll discuss, at length, our cholesterol numbers, our exercise habits, or our physical ailments. But, ask us about our mental health, and most of us tend to clam up.

I’ve spent years and years and years working on my own mental health, yet I often feel vulnerable when I discuss depression. (You’ll notice, we are nearly in June and I’m just now posting my “May is Mental Health Month” blog.) Although I sometimes find it difficult to talk about mental health, that doesn’t stop me. I write and speak on this topic not because it is easy for me to open my heart, but because I feel it is important for me to do so. Why waste pain? The whole point of making it through life’s challenges is so that we can help others. So today, I’m writing about mental health awareness.