Gloome (pronounced gloomy) was born out of desperation—my own struggle to feel better. I was drowning in postpartum depression, unable to work, snapping at my family, and barely functioning. I stayed up all night, too anxious to sleep, and binge ate to cope. I was desperate for affordable ways to pull myself out of the darkness, but everything came with a steep price tag.
It blew me away how many people were profiting off pain. I get it—services cost money, and everyone has bills to pay—but the sheer cost of healing? Hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars. Even the apps promising help locked relief behind outrageous subscription fees. Frankly, it pissed me off. I knew I couldn’t be the only one suffering like this. If I couldn’t find an accessible way to feel better, I’d create one.
And so, Gloome began. Slowly. Painstakingly. Some days, the weight of anxiety and depression was too much, and I could barely survive, let alone build something. I second-guessed every decision. I overthought until I shut down. I started over more times than I can count.
But through it all, one quote replayed in my head: "You gotta be rich to be insane. Losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle class."
I wanted to change that perception. I wanted self-care and emotional well-being to be something everyone could access—not just those who could afford to struggle. It’s been a tough road, and honestly, it still is. But Gloome is meant to evolve, to grow with me and with whoever joins me on this journey.
I’ve battled depression and anxiety for years. I won’t say how long (no need to age myself), but let’s just say my anxiety is old enough to drink. I know firsthand how hard it is to take care of yourself when you’re struggling. Gloome is a love letter to everyone who’s ever felt stuck in the dark—it’s a reminder that even in the gloomiest moments, there’s still light.
