Soundcheck for the Revolution

As a young girl, I always knew I’d be on stage. I wish I would have understood back then that the stage may have been a metaphorical one, but it would still include singing…and puppets.

Every rockstar has to endure some sort of incredible journey to sing about. What good is a tour without one?

Setting The Stage

The lights changed in 2017. New voices chanted. The world as I knew it was rewritten.

The medical world calls it “psychosis”. I call it the moment I broke free from a reality that was never built for me—only to return stronger, louder, and as my true self.

There were hospitalizations. There was the long, brutal work of recovery. And then there was the moment I had to make a choice.

Do I keep running? Or do I confront the voices that were leading my escape?

It happened in a hospital room, a place where everything felt out of my control—except one thing. Me.

I could fight this world, reject it, stay in the reality I created…Or I could surrender to the truth. 

No one was coming to save me.

I had to save myself.

That moment—the moment I decided to stay, to rebuild, to figure out why I wanted to run in the first place—that was the true opening act. It was a choice that would echo in every act that followed. A musical reprise that would return, over and over, whenever I needed it.

And in that moment, even if I didn’t know the details or the lyrics yet—the tour had begun.

Discovering My Bandmates

Healing is not a solo act. You don’t fight your way back alone.

Somewhere along the way, I found my bandmates. The people who knew what it meant to fall and rise again. The ones who weren’t afraid to get loud about the fight to recover, to reclaim, to rewrite the setlist.

I stepped into a world where being broken wasn’t weakness—it was part of the song.

Where every scar was a lyric.
Where every battle was a verse.
Where every comeback was a chorus that deserved to be screamed.

Because recovery is not quiet. It’s loud, raw, messy, and real. It’s standing on the wreckage of your past, throwing your arms wide, and screaming, I’m still here.

And when you’ve made it through the breakdown? You belt it out for the whole world to hear.

Discovering My Voice(s)

I always knew I had a killer voice. What I didn’t know was that I had an entire cast of characters living rent-free in my head, just waiting for their moment in the spotlight.

Mental hospitals? Check.
Internal voices? Oh, plenty.
A completely unexpected plot twist? Enter puppets.

Yep. You read that right. Puppets.

Turns out, when you’ve spent years hiding in the shadows, stepping into the spotlight feels a little… exposed. So, I did what any deeply self-aware, possibly unhinged person would do—I let something felt-covered take the lead.

Why bare your soul when a puppet can do it for you?

They got to be fearless when I wasn’t. Loud when I was still finding my voice. Unapologetic when I was still learning how to take up space. And the best part? No one questioned it. Because if society has taught us anything, it’s that a puppet can say things a person never could.

At first, they were a shield. A way to speak without really speaking.

But then, something wild happened.

I realized these weren’t just characters—they were me. The parts of me that had been waiting in the wings, desperate to be heard.

And once I gave them the mic? There was no shutting them up.

And after much debate (because, trust me, they had opinions), they finally named themselves The Mental Felts.

And now? They’re ready to take the stage—louder, bolder, and in their truest form.

Finding the Sound

I built something incredible from my story. I took my pain and turned it into art. I gave my voices a stage, and for the first time, they sang.

But something was missing.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was trapped in my own story—like I had built a stage but wasn’t really stepping onto it.

Recovery puts us on a path of self-improvement. It’s necessary. It’s life-saving. It gave me the tools to heal. And I will always be grateful for that.

But how I owned that healing? That was up to me.

And I realized—I was owning the hurt. I was owning the survival. I was owning the struggle.

But I wasn’t owning the celebration.

I wasn’t owning the music.

And that’s when Rockcovery was born.

Because survival isn’t the finale—it’s the opening act. The real show starts when you step into the spotlight and sing it loud.

Creating the Album Cover

If Rockcovery is the soundtrack, then photography is the album cover—the image that captures the energy, the fight, the truth of it all.

I’ve been an international award-winning photographer for years. But when my mind shattered, my passion for the camera blurred out of focus. Photography felt like a life I had left behind, and I wasn’t sure it would ever come back into view.

But it wasn’t gone—it was waiting.

It wasn’t until I coined the term Rockcovery that I realized where my camera belonged.

The most fulfilling moments I’ve had behind the lens weren’t about perfect lighting or flawless poses. They were about people standing in their truth, unafraid, unfiltered, and fully seen.

Photography became my way of capturing Rockcovery.

Not just for myself, but for everyone ready to be documented in their power. Everyone who wants to stand in their story, not as a victim, not as someone recovering, but as someone who has arrived.

So I’m building it. I’m working with people who want to be seen in their truth, captured in their resilience, and immortalized in the energy of their Rockcovery.

Taking the Stage

Everything is in place. The setlist is written. The instruments are tuned. The lights are up.

Now? It’s time to take the damn stage.

I’ve spent years finding my voice(s), defining my sound, and building the vision that would bring it all together. And now, I’m ready to share it.

Speaking engagements – Because Rockcovery isn’t just my story—it’s a movement, and I’m ready to bring it to the people who need it most.
Photography – Because capturing resilience and truth isn’t just my passion—it’s a purpose.
Consulting – Because organizations, businesses, and communities need a way to talk about mental health that’s real, that’s loud, that actually reaches people.
A reality puppet show launching on World Mental Health Day, October 10th – Because healing isn’t boring, and mental health deserves more than a whisper—it deserves a spectacle.

Because this celebration is real. And I’m done keeping it to myself.

I’m ready to share this journey with those who are on their own. I’m ready to showcase the stories of others who are standing in their Rockcovery.

I’m ready for us to celebrate together.