I See You,  Because I Was You

I know the despair, the hurt, the unbearable sadness.
I know the guilt and shame that you carry, the endless searching for answers that never come quickly enough.
I know the feeling of failure when school didn’t work out, when the world didn’t make sense, and when life threw every possible challenge your way to strip away every bit of confidence and self belief you had.

I came from a loving family but experienced adversity arising from a number of factors.

That pain followed me into school, where I struggled to engage, turned to inhalant abuse, failed my exams, and slowly began to believe the lie that I wasn’t good enough. So I succeeded only in what I thought I could — blaming and destroying myself from the inside out.

I found myself in damaging, toxic, abusive relationships. I became a single mother, overwhelmed and exhausted, struggling to pay the bills, keep the mortgage going, and keep my family afloat.

And then came my children’s adversity, born from the very cycles I had once fought so hard to escape, yet unknowingly carried forward. The path I had chosen to break free became theirs to walk, without choice. I watched my son struggle with ADHD, Autism Spectrum Condition, and Tourette’s syndrome after surviving a near-fatal battle with meningitis,  all while I grappled with my own (then undiagnosed) ADHD and trauma. My daughters, too, carried deep wounds, shaped by their father’s neglect and the abusive, toxic environment they were forced to witness. Their pain emerged through self-destructive behaviours, eating disorders, and, once again, signs of unrecognised neurodiversity.

The chaos, the fear, the isolation, it was unbearable. I know that fear of asking for help, keeping away from people due to the terror of not being accepted or being judged, the aching shame of considering whether services might be better placed to support your child, even if it breaks your heart to think of it.

I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of blame, from family, friends, professionals, and how hard it is to keep standing when the world feels like it’s pointing fingers instead of offering help. I know the impossible juggle of trying to work, be a parent, survive, and hold everything together ,  just for one more day!

I know all of this because I have lived it.
I was you.
I am you.

And I want to tell you this: You are not to blame.

This is not your fault.

You are not failing – you are surviving in a situation where many would have already given up.
You are holding the pieces together the best way you can.
You are not weak, you are exhausted.
You are not alone.

Accepting that you’re struggling with your mental health can feel overwhelming, struggling to be a parent or carer, it’s like admitting defeat, showing weakness, admitting failure. But it’s not. It’s one of the bravest, most powerful steps you can take. Living with emotional pain, anxiety, trauma or overwhelm doesn’t make you broken; it makes you human. 

There is strength in facing what hurts. There is hope, even in the darkest moments. Things can change. You don’t have to carry it all alone. With the right support, healing is possible and life can feel manageable, even joyful, again.

That’s why HABS exists,  because of people like you, like me, and like my team. It was born from trauma, yes, but it moves forward with love, passion, and a determination to make life better for individuals and families like yours. I only wish a team like HABS had been there for me and my team when I felt so alone, isolated, and overwhelmed.

If you feel like you’ve hit the edge, know this: you don’t have to stay there. I hear you. I see you. We will listen, help, and stand beside you until you are able to stand alone.

With warmth, care, and love.

Leigh Cole

CEO and Founder