All Blog - DO NOT DELETE

Victorious September

Earth, Wind & Fire once wrote with the lyrics, “Do you remember, the 21st night of September?”

For me, September is not one night, it is a lifetime. A month stitched with loss, rebirth, grief, calling, and ultimately, victory. It is the month that has held my deepest wounds and my greatest transformations. September is where my story keeps turning, again and again, toward purpose.

Loss, Change, and Unexpected Blessings

My Septembers began with heartbreak. On September 10, 1981, a drunk driver killed my best friend, Angela. I carried that grief like a secret burden for more than twenty years, convinced it was mine alone to hold.

Three years later, on September 8, 1984, life surprised us. Our daughter Angela arrived. Unplanned by us but fully planned by God. She was joy wrapped in redemption. She may have wondered if she was a mistake; I knew she was a miracle. She saved me, and she saved my marriage.

September kept shaping us. In 1998, we left Liverpool for Tampa, Florida. It was a three-year assignment, or so we thought. But the move became home. By September 2001, we chose to stay in the United States permanently, relocating to North Carolina so my company could sponsor our green cards. We were building a life, even as the world shook on September 11, 2001, when the Twin Towers fell and everything changed.

Grief, Survival, and Calling

September did not spare me from pain. On September 9, 2012, a phone call during church shattered my world: “Mum has died. Call home.” Just weeks earlier, she had celebrated our daughter’s wedding with us.

Two years later, September became the month I nearly didn’t survive.

In September 2014, I “graduated” from my outpatient facility after my first suicide attempt. The very next day, I boarded a cruise for my daughter’s 30th birthday, carrying a plan to say my goodbyes and end my life when I returned home. But on the final day of the cruise, something shifted. The medications I had been taking finally “kicked in.” It felt like a light bulb was switched on. I felt normal again. No one had told me psych meds can take six to eight weeks to work.

I returned to work that same September, still fragile, still healing. That is when I first heard God whisper: Mental health advocacy.

On September 17, 2017, Hurricane Irma struck Central Florida. During the storm, I slipped on my driveway and went straight to the emergency room, where I learned I had broken my wrist.

The experience revealed a painful difference: people with physical illnesses often receive a level of compassion that is not always extended to those facing mental health challenges. The contrast deepened my commitment to mental health advocacy and strengthened my resolve to end the stigma surrounding mental illness.

But the battle wasn’t over. On September 24, 2020, thirty-nine years after losing Angela, I attempted suicide again. I spent two and a half months in a private residential facility. This was different from the government-run one I had experienced before. Even in the darkest Septembers, hope flickered. Recovery was possible. I am living proof.

Purpose, Community, and Renewal

September began to transform from a month of survival into a month of purpose.

In 2021, I joined an eight-week NAMI Peer-to-Peer class, eventually becoming a co-facilitator and speaker. Later that month, at the AACC conference, I heard Dr. Amen speak on brain health for the first time, another divine breadcrumb on my path.

We moved out of our big lake house, with a private lake and beach in September 2021 to a 55+ community into a 1500 sq. ft. manufactured home. The Zellwood Station Community is incredible. I love the Zellwood Ladies stretch class, book club, swimming pools, restaurant, golf course and much more. 

On September 24, 2021, I celebrated life with my husband and two dear friends who had carried me through the summer of 2020. They gave me a lemon tree, a reminder that I could make lemonade out of lemons, and September could be reclaimed.

The following year, September 24–25, 2022, the Inaugural Rest & Renew Speak Out event came to life. Adults shared their stories on Saturday, youth on Sunday. It was storytelling, education, engagement, and entertainment woven together. A vision I still believe God will resurrect in His timing.

Then came September 2023, after my third suicide attempt that left me in an induced coma for seven days. If my husband had not found me, I would not have been here. But God. I began working as a cashier in a local grocery store, the most humbling job I’ve ever had. God used it to strip away my idols. For more than two years, He led me through the desert, crushing me like a grape so I could emerge as vintage wine. I lost everything materially, yet gained joy, peace, and contentment beyond anything I had known. I found my purpose. I found my reason for living. My why is my family.

Taking the Past to Use My Passion to Live on Purpose

September 2026 became a month of harvest.

I attended the AACC conference from September 10–12, hoping to secure Dr. Amen’s endorsement for my next book LuvUrBrain: From Awareness to Action. I received far more, podcast invitations, speaking opportunities, and what I can only describe as God connections.

I contracted with an executive coach to begin in January 2027. And I graduated from Amen University with an upgraded Elite Coach certification.

As a newly trained speaker for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, I delivered multiple times their signature presentation; Talk Saves Lives: An Introduction to Suicide Prevention™.

Invited to join the Amen Brain Health Warrior Global Network as a Global Ambassador. A small group of influencers who are changing the conversation from mental health to brain health. 

September had finally become a month of rising.

Claiming Victory

With every moment, painful, beautiful, devastating, miraculous, I choose to declare September my Victory Month. Not because it spared me, but because I survived it. I have been transformed because of it. It taught me transformation is not a single event; it is a rhythm. God really does make beauty from ashes. And I can confirm it is brain health not mental health. I have the pictures to prove it.

September tells my story. What month tells yours?