When we talk about mental health,
we also have to talk about family history. If we take a look within our family
of origin, some of us grew up around depression, addiction, anxiety, emotional
instability, or other mental health challenges before we ever had the language
to name them.
We just knew something was there.
We saw it in the drinking. We saw
it in the sadness. We saw it in the anger and even in the silence. We saw it in
the way people coped, shut down, exploded, isolated, or tried to survive.
And
somewhere along the way, some of us started wondering: Could that happen to
me too?
That question is part of what led
me to Biopsychology. I did not choose that major by accident. Part of what
pulled me toward the brain-body connection was a question I carried personally: Does alcoholism run in my
family?
I had watched my father struggle
with drinking, and somewhere deep inside, I wondered if that meant I was at
risk too. I was not just curious academically, I was concerned personally. That
concern eventually shaped my thesis, which focused on the neuropsychological
effects of alcoholism in children of alcoholics. The results showed genetics could
play a role in how my brain functioned and risk of having my own mental health
challenges.
But despite the data, my faith and
life experiences have taught me this: Being at risk is not the same as being
doomed.
Having a family history of
addiction, depression, anxiety, or other mental health challenges can increase
your vulnerability. It does not mean you will automatically experience the same
thing, but it does mean there may be patterns worth paying attention to. That
is why we cannot talk about mental health without also talking about genetics,
family systems, coping patterns, and the environments we grew up in.
Some things are inherited
biologically while others are learned behaviorally.
Some things are absorbed emotionally while others are passed down because
nobody ever talked about them. And let’s be honest: in many families,
especially in families of faith, we did not always have the language for mental
health.
We called it “nerves”, or “having a
hard time.” We called it “drinking too much.” We commented that he is just “in
a bad mood most of the time.” We said “that’s just how they are.” It was called
“private family business.” But not naming something does not mean it is not
affecting us.
Sometimes silence keeps a pattern
alive.
Risk is information, not a
sentence
One of the most freeing lessons I
learned is this: Risk is information, not a sentence.
Yes, I may have had risk and there
were times when I was vulnerable, but I was not without power. After drinking
more than my share of alcohol at a few college parties, I really had to ack ask
myself “was I at risk for becoming an alcoholic?”
I realized that having a family
history of alcoholism did not guarantee I would become an alcoholic. It meant I
needed to pay attention. It meant I needed to be honest. It meant I needed to
understand my risk and make choices that protected my brain, my body, my
future, and my peace.
For me, that meant recognizing a
simple but powerful truth: I did not have to drink.
That realization
changed how I thought about my own behavior. It helped me move from fear to
prevention. I could choose differently and not have to live in fear.

Genetics can influence
vulnerability. Twin studies and family studies have helped researchers
understand that conditions such as addiction, depression, and other mental
health challenges can have a genetic component. But genes do not tell the whole
story. There are other things that matter including your: environment, stress
load, sleep, nutrition, coping skills, spiritual support, relationships,
choices and access to care.
That’s the good news. Because even when we cannot change our
family history, we can make decisions that support our present and protect our
future.
Now, let me be clear. This is not
about blaming people for their mental health challenges. This is not about
saying people can simply choose their way out of depression, addiction,
anxiety, trauma, or emotional pain. We are not doing shame over here.
Sometimes people need counseling,
treatment or medication. Sometimes people need community support and medical
care. Sometimes people need a safe place to finally tell the truth.
But prevention also matters. And
knowing your risk gives you an opportunity to be proactive instead of waiting
until life is in crisis.
What runs in the family does not
have to run unchecked
This is where honesty becomes
powerful. If addiction runs in your family, you may need to be honest about
your relationship with alcohol, prescription medications, or other substances.
If depression runs in your family,
you may need to pay attention to your mood, sleep, isolation, energy levels,
and thought patterns. If anxiety runs in your family, you may need to notice
when your nervous system is living on high alert.
If dementia, memory loss, or other
brain health challenges run in your family, you may need to become more
intentional about brain-supportive habits earlier rather than later.
This is
not fear. This is wisdom.
Knowing your family history can
help you ask better questions, make better decisions, and seek support sooner.
It can help you to say:
·
“I need to take this seriously.”
·
“I need to talk to someone.”
·
“This pattern stops being ignored with me.”
·
“I want something different for the next
generation.”
Because what ran through your
family does not have to run unchecked through you.
Faith and prevention can walk
together
As women of faith, sometimes we are
quick to pray about something but slow to pay attention to the pattern. Please
hear me clearly: prayer matters. But prayer and prevention are not enemies. Faith
and wisdom belong together. It is not a lack of faith to learn your family
history.
It is not a lack of faith to get counseling. It is not a lack of faith to avoid
substances that may put you at risk. It is not a lack of faith to ask your
doctor questions and you do not lack faith if you support your brain and mental
health before everything falls apart.
Sometimes the blessing is in the
awareness. The breakthrough can begin when somebody finally tells the truth. You
are not dishonoring your family by naming what affected them. You may be
protecting yourself, your children, your grandchildren, and the people assigned
to your life.

Prevention is a form of protection
Prevention does not mean you can
control everything. It means you are choosing to care for what you can.
It may look like:
·
Choosing not to drink because alcoholism runs in
your family.
·
Talking to a counselor before your sadness
becomes unbearable.
·
Learning your family’s mental health history.
·
Paying attention to sleep, stress, mood, and
memory changes.
·
Building support before you are in crisis.
·
Being honest with your doctor.
·
Setting boundaries with environments that pull
you into unhealthy coping.
·
Replacing shame with self-awareness.
Prevention is not paranoia, it
is protection. It is saying, “I know what has shown up in my family, and I
am going to be intentional about how I care for myself.” That does not mean the
road will always be easy. But it does mean you do not have to walk through life
unaware, unprepared, or ashamed.
This week, I want you to think
about your own family history with compassion and honesty.
Do not allow fear, shame, and blame
to hold you back. Choose wisdom. What patterns have shown up in your family
around addiction, depression, anxiety, emotional distress, memory loss, or
other brain and mental health challenges?
What have you been afraid to name? What
have you normalized because “that’s just how our family is”? What would
prevention look like for you? Maybe prevention looks like making an appointment.
Maybe it looks like having an honest conversation. Perhaps it looks like
changing your relationship with alcohol. Maybe the answer lies in getting more
sleep or finally saying, “I need help.” Whatever it is, start there.
Because knowing your risk is not
about in fear. It is about living with your eyes open.
It may run in the family, but it
does not have to run your life.
Blessings,
Dr. Janice R. Love