New Memoir
My Personal Mental Health Journey Encountering OCD, PTSD, and Depression — and what kept me above water.
A clear account of OCD, PTSD, and depression—without euphemism.
Moments of light that guide the recovery journey.
Language and perspective for loved ones and supporters.
“I absolutely would suggest your book to clients, in fact, I have one long-term client, in particular, NEEDS to hear your story. In reality, there are tons of my clients, and people in general, who will gain hope and feel understood because you shared your story.”
This memoir reflects my personal journey with mental illness and is told through my memories and perspective.
I understand that others mentioned in these pages may have experienced things differently. Still, I share my story openly, in my own voice, and without reservation.
My hope is that it will resonate with those facing mental health challenges and with those who love and support them.
For the sake of privacy, I’ve used only first names, changed some others, and, at times, chosen not to include full identifying details.
Mental illness doesn’t just affect the person struggling—it ripples outward, touching everyone close.
This is a resource for those living alongside someone with severe mental health challenges.
I include the voices of my loved ones in this book to give representation for those who walked beside me, even when they weren’t sure how.
Throughout my journey, there were moments when I felt unreachable, but others were still reaching. Their reflections are honest, sometimes raw, and always rooted in love. They ask the questions you have probably wondered: What’s going to help? What can I do differently? How do I support myself while supporting them? How much of myself do I need to give? Am I helping, or is this too much for me?
If you’ve ever asked yourself these questions and didn’t know where to turn—I wrote this book for you.
Retailer links will go live soon.
I shouldn’t be here today.
I was a meek, brown-haired, shy girl whose elementary world was consumed with carefully stepping to avoid cracks and counting every step with precision. From the moment I woke up until my eyelids closed at night, this ritual dictated my every move. If I had the misfortune of stepping on a crack or losing count, an overwhelming fear took hold that something bad was going to happen.
I shouldn’t be here today.
I was an uncomfortable, introverted, awkward teenager whose daily routine revolved around ensuring my closet remained in perfect order, with my clothes meticulously arranged from white to black. Afternoons were spent curled up in the back corner of that closet, creating a different life for myself, one that felt safer than the one I lived.
In high school, my emotionally fragile frame remained on high alert at all times. Whether walking alone or checking the back seat of my car as obsessive thoughts consumed me—constantly strategizing how to navigate the world without being taken, hurt, or simply seen.
I shouldn’t be here today.
The painfully shy and inwardly chaotic teenager who feared walking two blocks to school, whose brain was filled with constant noise, somehow graduated from high school. That should not have been possible. My second-grade teacher, Mrs. D, once told my parents, “She is not going to amount to anything—she can’t even use scissors properly.” And yet, I am here.
I shouldn’t be here today.
I was only accepted into college because, somehow, I must have interviewed well. I remember sitting in the admissions office at Stephens College, thinking, How the hell did I get here? I knew I had to nail this interview because I needed a path forward. How was I supposed to sit across from the dean, make eye contact, and answer questions like: Why do you want to go to Stephens College? What do you hope to accomplish here? Where do you see yourself after graduation? Looking someone in the eyes wasn’t something I was used to. Eye contact meant vulnerability; it meant being seen. And for the past eighteen years, I had been hiding.
Fast forward to today, and I should not have:
But behind the outward survival, I was silently battling a war within myself. My mind was a relentless storm of intrusive thoughts, an endless loop of irrational fears and rituals that I had to perform just to get through the day. I didn’t want to die. However, I didn’t want to live.
So, that left me no choice but to survive. The weight of undiagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) dictated every action, every breath, every decision. And as I grew older, it wasn’t just OCD—it was the creeping darkness of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and severe depression that suffocated me, and made me question why I was the way I was, and why I couldn’t simply turn off the noise, the loud background music playing twenty-four-seven in my head.
I spent years trying to unravel myself. I was desperate for answers, desperate to understand why my brain functioned this way. The fear, the rituals, the exhaustion of constantly trying to control an uncontrollable world—it never went away, it only evolved. And yet, through all of it, I found a way to keep going.
I shouldn’t be here. And yet— I am.
Karen B. Gerson has lived in Leawood, Kansas, for over 25 years. She was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio—the Buckeye State. Karen began her education at Stephens College and earned a Bachelor of Science in K–8 Education from The Ohio State University. She later received her Executive Master of Public Administration from the University of Missouri–Kansas City.
Karen has taught in both public and private school settings. Her passion for education led her to a 20+ year career in the Jewish community, where she specialized in program development, implementation, and relationship-building for children and young adults. She also spent several years working for First Call an organization that reduces the impact of alcohol, drugs and addiction and continues to service this organization in multiple ways including being on the Board of Directors.
She lives in Leawood with her husband, Jeffry and two sons Gilli and Eitan. One of their families favorite pastime is soccer either watching our boys play or Sporting Kansas City.
Karen enjoys practicing yoga, working out, traveling (especially Israel and Costa Rica), reading, cooking, volunteering, and spending time with friends and family.
