I met Sarah Buttenweiser through some writing friends, and even though I’ve never met her in person, we’ve talked on the phone, and I’ve been the recipient on numerous occasions of her largesse of spirit and support. I always say that there are people whom I’ve met online that are closer to me than ones that I know in person, for years and years and years. That’s just a fact. Sarah is an amazing writer, a truly nurturing soul and a fellow MoFaCa. She is a graduate of Hampshire College and the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College, writer, parent to four, spouse to one and community organizer and board member of Collective Power for Reproductive Justice.
These are her words:
When I was growing up, I knew mental health challenges lurked in my family. I knew, without any language for it, that my dad struggled with depression. I did my best, not always all that well, to keep my own depression at bay. There were hushed stories about extended family members’ struggles. And then, I became a parent.
When life unfolded and mental health was a bigger factor than I’d previously imagined possible, I was unprepared for how all the things I’d imagined mattered—grades, test scores, college applications—didn’t. New things few of my friends were talking about mattered, like therapists, plural. With their support, we rethought achievement and goals to include notions of overwhelm and happiness. I drastically oversimplify here, careful not to share too many details.
What became very clear was that, when I began to reframe myself and my family, I had previously no idea how many people surrounding me also needed these stigmatized and necessary support systems. It was as if we occupied a different lane altogether. Years of a new kind of caregiving ensued. We were coached and learned to trust our family as we come not as is “ideal” or idealized. Instead of diplomas, maybe there was a steadier young adult than we’d thought was possible at times. Instead of mourning a certain kind of launch to college, one that might leave a parent feeling left behind, I resented parents who didn’t realize how lucky they were to ache like that, a “good” ache of watching their kid able to just go off into the world. And, as the work ensued and we all became more real to and with one another, I have felt grateful in ways I might never have known possible. Have the years flown by? They have not. And that is more than fine. That imperfect and not always photographed for public consumption life, it is my life, one I cherish.
You can read more of Sarah’s work here:
My God, Sarah's words are powerful. Thank you for introducing me to her. You and she have helped me today more than you can imagine, in ways that I will one day be at liberty to share. You make my world richer, larger, deeper, more intensely aware, and I am grateful to you, for it.
It was Sarah who introduced me to your writing--love this all so much 🥰 + 💔 + 💓