My name is Alyssa Marie Shoultz.  I’m 30 years old and I was suicidal for nearly my entire life.  Both of my families have a history of mental illness and depression.  My father, Michael David Swanson, also suffered from depression.  He was only 33 when he took his own life; at the time I was 12 years old (3 weeks before my 13th birthday).  If it wasn’t for my partner, Ryan Mikal Christianson, saving my life daily for over a decade, I would have taken my own life.  I dropped out of college at 19 because I was increasingly suicidal and I was only getting worse each day that went on.  Instead of inquiring why I had decided to stop going to college, my father’s family pressured me to reenroll.  If I would have killed myself at any point, most of my family members would have played a large part in pushing me too far for too long.  Both of my families failed me.  My mother abused and neglected me for my whole life and it only got worse as I got older to the point where at 22 years old, I needed to get a restraining order against her to protect myself.  Members of both of my families continued to talk with her even after I had gotten a restraining order, further violating my trust in them.  I genuinely thought telling anyone in my family I was severely depressed and suicidal would make my life harder not easier.

Note:  My Mom has since gotten sober and I am willing to attempt reconciliation once I’m not drowning with life

My mental health continued to deteriorate to the point where I was unable to continue my job as a professional house cleaner, or even be a functioning adult.  Even simple things like eating food and taking showers were too much for me to handle.  My mental health was also affecting Ryan’s ability to work, because I would frequently call or text him while crying in a bathroom stall on campus, and he was working in government and healthcare buildings with strict phone access policies.

I wrote a letter telling my mental health story and sent it to my family when I was 27; I never got the responses I deserve.  I even wrote a second letter a year later calling people out for not responding, to which nearly no one responded to either.  I poured my heart and soul into those letters (linked below), naively thinking that if I was brave enough to tell my story things would get better.

I have since found out that Bob has been lying behind my back, instructing people to not communicate with me.

My traumatic life continues to be downplayed by the very people who need to be held accountable.  Some family members have referred to my life with sentences like “I am sorry that you have felt like crap” and “I know that you struggle with depression due to very bad experiences growing up”.  I didn’t feel like crap or have very bad experiences, I wanted to fucking die from the moment I woke up till the moment I fell asleep, and even in my nightmares which were daily.  

My grandfather Bob Swanson presents himself as a mental health advocate who champions the message of mental health awareness and discussion through online blogs, podcasts, and at in-person speeches, yet has repeatedly threatened and vetoed every attempt Ryan and I have made to discuss the very very serious and life threatening issues within our family.

Below you can find my Family Letter 1, Family Letter 2, and the screenshot of the incident that occurred on May 11th.  I will continue to update this website regularly.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, I deserve a chance at a happy life after living and surviving through hell since birth.