07/07/2026
*Trigger warning*
Today, I’m posting something a little different. This picture lives on my fridge, so I see it every day. It’s a family snapshot—siblings and cousins, taken at our home in the 80s, probably before school one morning (I suspect it was my brother’s first day). See that cool, taller girl at the back? That’s my cousin, Kristy. And see that scrawny kid to her front left, with the bad fringe and a delirious smile? That’s me, basking in the glow of my way-cool older cousin.
Today is Kristy’s birthday. She would have been 49. It should feel celebratory, but today feels heavy.
Earlier this year, on January 9th, my amazing, courageous, wickedly funny, and incredibly artistic cousin—the one I had looked up to my whole life—reached the end of her line. After years of struggles, she took her own life. It has been devastating for those of us who loved her. It is still hard to comprehend that I will never hear her stories or jokes, never hear her laugh again, and that there won’t be any more "fruity kiwi" creations to admire or surprise packages of soap arriving in the post.
The thing is, struggles with mental health is an illness—one that still doesn’t get the understanding, treatment, and care it deserves. I’ve walked that path myself, and while I’m doing okay today, I know that could be turned upside down tomorrow. I live with that reality daily.
I wish I could go back and change that night for Kristy. I wish there was some magical way I could have alleviated her internal battles. But going to war with your own brain, day after day, is exhausting. Our minds can be our greatest gifts, but also our most terrifying adversaries.
There is still so much stigma surrounding mental health, and so much pressure to pretend things are okay when they aren't. We find it hard to communicate our fears, our needs, and our feelings. We are so afraid of being judged, and so afraid of "failing" at this thing called life. We live in a world of increasing pressures and demands, often feeling like things are falling apart, so it is no wonder that so many reach their breaking point.
When you’re in the thick of it—in that deep, dark abyss—there is an overwhelming, incorrect belief that you shouldn't be here, that your pain is insurmountable, and that the world might be better off without you. It feels so real in that moment, regardless of what anyone outside might say. It’s incredibly hard to see a way out. For many, you just want the hurting to stop. Once you reach that point, it is exceptionally hard to pull yourself back.
Even if you have all the love in the world surrounding you. Even if you are funny, insanely talented, have the best music taste, and the biggest heart. Even if you are the world’s coolest older cousin. Even then, you can get so tired—so very tired—of fighting off the demons. You just need it to be over.
I can’t change anything for Kristy. I can’t bring her back. But I can make the choice to live a life that honors hers. I’ll honor the courage and determination it took for her to stay as long as she did. I’ll keep these conversations open, and I will always celebrate the phenomenal person she was by speaking her name.
Kristy Jones is so loved. A cherished daughter, sister, mother, niece, friend, and, of course, the coolest cousin in the world.
My ask today is that wherever you are, please be kind to yourself and to those around you. Share a smile or a laugh with someone—the more warped the jokes, the better (Kristy would approve). And please, if you are at battle with your own mind, share your burden. These fights should not be fought alone.
Love you forever, cuz.
