Why I Started A Minute for Mental Health (And What Keeps Me Going)

It started with exhaustion—and not just the kind that sleep can fix.

A Minute for Mental Health started as a passion project—honestly, more like a coping tool I built for myself as I worked on recovery after trauma and grief.

In 2016, my dad was diagnosed with ALS. For months he had been losing weight quickly, and as a family we had no clear answers. When we finally saw a neurology specialist, he explained that my dad’s pattern of muscle loss wasn’t common, which made it hard to diagnose. Getting the diagnosis brought some relief, but that relief quickly turned into grief when we learned there is no cure.

In 2017, my younger brother Michael was in Montreal studying anthropology at Concordia. We were close and talked almost every day. At the same time, I was finishing my master’s degree at the University of Waterloo and learning how to be a new parent. When Michael’s communication changed, I assumed he was just busy too. Then my mom called, worried that he didn’t sound like himself. We drove to Montreal and found him struggling. We brought him home, and he spent time in treatment programs. For a while it looked like he was doing better. But later that year, Michael died by suicide.

The shock and grief changed me in ways I didn’t expect. I experienced a range of emotions including regret and guilt that I couldn’t save him.

My dad passed in August of 2020, which is when I learned that there is no ‘good’ time to lose a parent.

I was already working in social work and mental health, but navigating those losses alongside parenting active kids, going back to school on a mission to learn more about health studies and how our healthcare system can better support people suffering with ALS, lead me on a path to burnout like I had never experienced.

I didn’t have the words for it at the time but later learned that what I experienced was a psychosis induced by stress and insomnia, exacerbated by post partum anxiety and depression that started after I had my first baby, worsened after my second, and caused a break down after my third. I now (playfully) blame this cascade of mental illness on stubbornness (my own), guilt, shame, stigma and a system that’s just not built for prevention.

Through my healing journey I learned the unique challenges that helpers face.

I feel very lucky to have had support from caring family, friends, professors, mentors and colleagues, that were patient with me and encouraged me as I processed my own challenges in this process before taking the leap to seek out formal therapy of my own. It’s hard to describe how challenging it can be to be the one needing help when you’re usually the one giving help to others.

Now, my work is rooted in one belief: You shouldn’t have to wait until everything falls apart to start taking care of your mental health.

This project is my way of giving back to the helpers. The parents. The burned out. The ones holding it together for everyone else.

I created what I wished I’d had.

A Minute for Mental Health started with a simple question:
What if support could come in small, meaningful moments?
What if mental health resources didn’t require an hour, a therapist, or a perfect plan?

What if one grounded breath, one reflection prompt, or one honest check-in could start to shift things?

When I was struggling, I was reminded about how therapies like CBT, DBT and ACT can help with recovery. But, I couldn’t find tools that felt realistic—everything out there seemed to require time, energy, and clarity that I just didn’t have.

So I began to create the tools I needed during the hardest seasons of my life—grief, motherhood, co-parenting, career shifts, and caregiving. Tools that were trauma-informed, practical, and gentle.

The first ones were for me.
The next ones were for my clients and patients.
And now—they’re for anyone who needs them.

What keeps me going

It’s the messages from nurses using grounding cards on night shift.
It’s the teacher who said the journaling prompts helped her reconnect with herself.
It’s the parents trying to explain grief or trauma to their kids—and finding a way in.

It’s knowing that small tools, used with intention, can bring real relief.
It’s believing that self-care isn’t a luxury. It’s how we stay whole while doing hard things.

And on the hard days? I remember that I’m not building this business on perfection—I’m building it on honesty, lived experience, and the belief that healing is possible, even in small moments.

Why “A Minute”?

Because that’s all many of us feel we have.
And sometimes, a minute is enough.

Enough to pause.
Enough to ask, “How am I really doing?”
Enough to remember that you matter too.

Thanks for being here. I’m so glad you found your way to A Minute for Mental Health.
Whether you’re a parent, therapist, first responder, educator, or quiet caregiver—this space is for you.

You don’t have to do it all. You don’t have to do it alone.
You just have to start… with a minute.