Message of Gratitude – Carlie Sauntry

Most people that know me, know that I love to help people. But most of them still don’t understand why.

Being an adopted individual, a good amount of the start of my life was predetermined. My adoptive parents had an amazing life to offer me, filled with promise and opportunities for success — the opposite of what my life could have been had they not adopted me.

I grew up grateful that there really were people who wanted to love me but at the same time was still fighting the thoughts in my head telling me that there was still someone who didn’t want me. And that person just happened to be the only person with all the answers to all my questions.

I grew up constantly fearing the loss of my family members. Being so young and knowing they were all I had in this world was anxiety inducing leading me to develop intense separation anxiety. While at about the same time, I was also diagnosed with ADHD.

Constantly monitoring my own behaviors and emotions sparked curiosity inside my mind, even at a young age. I wanted to understand why I was feeling the way I was but no matter how many people I asked, no one had the right answer.

Because of my adoption, the knowledge I had of my family health history, let alone family history at all was and still is completely nonexistent. I was left feeling like any sense of self I had was not a product of myself, but instead a product of what I let my environment mold me into.

I let this mindset carry out through almost my entire adolescence. Allowing my peers, mentors, family members and pretty much everyone else to influence the way I thought of myself not just on the outside but also my thoughts and actions. Growing up in a predominantly white and privileged community I stuck out everywhere I went. So much so that I would go to bed and wake up every morning wishing I could just be like everyone else, thinking maybe I would enjoy my life more that way.

No matter how hard I tried, my environment made sure that I stood out from everyone else. To the point where I even allowed people to refer to me any way they wanted, even if that meant bullying me for straying away from the white norms in our community or referring to me as a racial slur — I thought this was just “normal” because there was no one in my life to tell me otherwise. 

As I continue to grow through adolescence, I became more anxious and depressed than ever. Trying to grow up and stabilize my sense of self was one of the most difficult obstacles to overcome. The time I spent alone from my peers was used to dwell and beat myself up for feeling like I was not good enough to ever deserve a happy life that I thought everyone else had.

It took me 18 years to understand that my identity was not for those around me to decide. For the first time I was able to recognize that my identity was for me to solidify.

But doing this had to be done on my own which was my biggest fear since I had constantly been so reliant on the people around me for so long. Taking that first step to being independent was the most difficult but empowering stage of my life that I would never take back.

When I first learned about the peer support job at Bert Nash, I was instantly intrigued. My past struggles with mental health have continuously fueled me with the energy and desire to help people who are experiencing similar struggles. It’s extremely important to me to be able to let those around me know that they aren’t going through life alone. I can think back to so many times I just wished I had a friend to listen to me like us peers do for our patients. Through this position I knew I would be able to help erase the stigma around mental health by sharing my lived experience with other community members in crisis. I think that is the most powerful part about the work we do.

The most special part about my experience as a peer support specialist at Bert Nash would be how it’s not only benefited other community members but how it’s also significantly benefited my progress in my own mental health journey.