Today we’d like to introduce you to Ezra Israelian
Hi Ezra, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
Thanks for asking about my story, it’s been a while since I’ve looked back. I grew up in a family that never stayed in one place long, always packing up and moving, chasing something solid that didn’t quite stick. It was just my mom, raising three of us, holding things together as best she could. My dad showed up now and then, but he was mostly gone, pulled under by alcohol and mental health challenges. That wasn’t just his fight, it was all around us. My older sister had her own heavy struggles, and I felt the pull of it too. Mental health wasn’t some outside idea; it was what we lived in.
With no steady male figure around, I ended up shouldering a lot as a kid, more than I should have, too young to really know how. My father walked out when I was 9, leaving me trying to hold things steady while everything around us kept shifting. It threw me off back then, made growing up a little messier. But later, that same pressure turned into something useful, it taught me how to roll with the voids and constant changes, to keep things simple. Till this day, I live light, travel light, a habit that stuck from those days.
Then came my first love, back in high school. Her name was Augustine Dresden, a bright, electric soul, a singer-songwriter and guitarist with a true artist’s heart. We connected deeply, instantly. But she moved back to Texas, and I couldn’t let go. At 15, I ran away from home, chasing that love across state lines. We held on for a year before drifting apart, though I never wanted it to end. Years later, her mother called me out of the blue, something that doesn’t happen, an ex’s mom reaching out. She said Augustine wasn’t well, couldn’t say much more, just that she was asking for me, calling my name. That stirred something in me, a pull I couldn’t ignore, and I flew to Texas with no idea what I’d find.
What I walked into was one of the hardest moments of my life. We drove out past Fort Worth, down long country roads into the middle of nowhere, and ended up at a mental asylum. I’d never seen anything like it. As I walked through the longest hall I’d ever walked, I heard her calling my name repeatedly. There she was, Augustine, lost in psychosis, an altered state I couldn’t even recognize. It shook me. For years, I tried to help her pull through, but it wore me down until my own mind started slipping too. We couldn’t keep it together, and when we finally parted, it broke me, sent me reeling. In that wreckage, I saw my own struggles weren’t so far from hers, or from the chaos I’d known growing up. That hit me hard, woke me up, and set me on the path to what came next.
That’s how Painted Brain found its spark. In 2009, I teamed up with Dave Leon, while coming in and out of madness, frequenting hospitals like 7/11. We began tossing ideas around in the Annex off of Mateo and Willow Street, now known as the Downtown LA Arts District. We set the motion for the peer movement in California building something real, mixing art, tech, and peer support for people who get it. That grew into Peer Mental Health in 2019, using online tools to reach more people, and neuroTree, digging into broader ways to heal the community of individuals living with mental health, neurodiverse, and chronic pain challenges. It all came from those years of figuring out my own head and finding a way through.
Things kept rolling from there. I worked on Senate Bill 803 in California alongside Rayshell Chambers, who joined our Painted Brain founding team in 2016. After years of effort, it passed in 2020, making peer support a Medi-Cal-covered service. It was a real win for the recovery approach I’d seen make a difference, and Painted Brain stepped up to train peers to lead the way. Now, I’ve stepped into music too. I signed with BMG Records, thanks to Daniel Blanck and Brad Marrapodi giving me a shot, and I’m making songs about mental health, that edge where creativity and chaos meet. It’s raw, just what I know.
So, how’d I get here? A childhood always moving, a breakup that shook me loose, and my own struggles that somehow pointed me somewhere. My family, her battles, my own, they led me to Painted Brain, to pushing for change, to putting it into music. I’m still that kid trying to sort it out, just with a rhythm to go with it now.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It’s been everything but smooth, honestly. Starting with Painted Brain back in 2009, I was just patient 0, scribbling ideas in a mental hospital, trying to make sense of my own struggles. Dave Leon and I wanted to create something real for people like us, but we had no roadmap. Early on, it was tough just getting folks to take us seriously, mental health wasn’t the hot topic it is now, and peer-led ideas felt like a long shot to a lot of people. Cash was tight too; we were scraping by, figuring out how to pay for a website, let alone staff, let alone a cheeseburger.
Then there’s the personal toll. I’d be lying if I said my own head didn’t get in the way sometimes. Those early years, I was still learning how to manage my symptoms while convincing others we could build something lasting. I have a background in Computer Science, and being able to program web applications and websites helped significantly but still, it was like trying to fix a car while driving it and pumping gas at the same time, very messy and exhausting. With Peer Mental Health in 2019, the challenge shifted, going virtual sounded great, but the tech wasn’t always there yet, and getting people to trust online care took time. I am proud to say, in 2021 we launched the very first Virtual Reality trauma-intervention program for mass shooting victims in the United States working with the Boulder Strong community in Colorado.
Pushing Senate Bill 803 through in 2020, that was another beast. I was part of the effort to make peer support Medi-Cal billable, which meant wading through policy muck, endless meetings, and proving to skeptics that peers could be legit providers. It passed, but not without a fight, lots of late nights and doubts about whether we’d pull it off. neuroTree brought its own hurdles, tying holistic care into a system that’s often rigid and fragmented isn’t easy. We’d pitch these big ideas about blending mental health with community, and sometimes it felt like shouting into the wind.
The struggles? Burnout’s real, I’ve felt it. Balancing my own mental health while running these things has been a tightrope walk. And the stigma, oh man, it’s better now, but back then, people still saw mental health challenges as a weakness, not a mission. Funding’s always a grind too; you’re fighting for grants one day, juggling budgets the next. But the flipside? Every time someone says Painted Brain kept them going, or neuroTree reached them when nothing else did, it’s worth it. The road’s been bumpy, still is, but it’s taught me how to keep moving, even when the wheels wobble.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’ve spent the last 15+ years building mental health companies rooted in lived experience. I co-founded Painted Brain in 2009, CodiePie in 2012, teaching at-risk youth with mental health challenges learn how to code. Peer Mental Health in 2019, focusing on virtual solutions to bridge the digital divide, making care accessible online, like the VR trauma intervention I designed for mass shooting survivors in Boulder. And neuroTree’s my latest push, holistic care blending nutrition, therapy, and peer support for individuals living with neurodiverse, chronic pain, and mental health challenges. I specialize in turning personal struggle into practical tools, peer-driven stuff that actually works.
I’m known for shaking things up a bit, pushing the recovery model over the old top-down system (medical model). People might point to Senate Bill 803 in California, which I helped get passed in 2020, making peer support Medi-Cal billable. That’s a big one, Painted Brain’s now training peers to lead the charge across the state of California. On another track, I’ve turned to music. I was recently signed with BMG Records, thanks to producers Daniel Blanck and Brad Marrapodi giving me a chance. I’m crafting songs that tangle love and mental health into something jagged, teetering where creativity frays into madness. It’s like fractured echoes from my mind, splintered yet woven with melody that spills through me, washing the black-and-white into colour. My second album titled, “Painted Brain”, brings it full circle.
What am I most proud of? Honestly, it’s seeing people find their footing, someone who felt stuck coding a website with us, or getting a job through Peer Mental Health or neuroTree’s network. That, and hearing my music hit someone right where they’re at. What sets me apart? I’ve been on both sides, hospital beds and boardrooms. I get the mess of it because I’ve lived it, and I’m not afraid to build from there, whether it’s policy, tech, or a song. It’s not about fixing people; it’s about giving them room to figure it out, with tools that make sense.
Do you have any advice for those looking to network or find a mentor?
I’ve stumbled my way through this one, so I’ve got some thoughts. Finding a mentor or networking? It’s less about hunting for the perfect person and more about showing up where the real conversations happen. For me, it’s worked best when I’ve just been myself, flaws and all, and put my energy into spaces that matter. Early on with Painted Brain, I’d hang out at mental health meetups, co-working spots in L.A.’s Arts District, anywhere people were talking recovery or tech. That’s where I met Dave Leon, pure chance, just two guys in a Annex with moveable walls, and a room full of ideas. No grand pitch, just swapping stories.
My advice? Start with what you’re already doing, your work, your passion, and let it pull people in. Don’t force it; share what you’re about, and the right folks notice. I’ve found mentors in unexpected places, like a patient at a hospital who saw me coding on paper and sketching Painted Brain’s revamped website and pushed me to keep going, or later, policy folks I met while grinding on Senate Bill 803. Networking’s not schmoozing for me, it’s showing up consistently, listening more than talking. I’d cold-email people too, but always with a real question, not a generic “pick your brain” line. Something like, “Hey, I love what you do, anyway I can help, volunteer, get involved?” People in positions of power are always being solicited to give but never being offered support.
What’s worked well? Being honest about where I’m at, my struggles, my wins. When I started Peer Mental Health, I leaned on folks I’d met through Painted Brain, peers, techies, advocates, and just asked for what I needed. Same with music, Daniel Blanck and Brad Marrapodi at BMG found me because I was already out there, putting my story into songs. I’d say, don’t chase big names; connect with people who get your why. And give back, help someone else out, even small, and it comes around. For me, it’s been less about a mentor on a pedestal and more about a web of people who’ve nudged me along, some I’ve never even met in person. Just keep showing up, and the network builds itself.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.neurotree.io
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/david.israelian
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DavidEliIsraelian/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/davidisraelian
- Twitter: https://x.com/davidisraelian
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEcKRDteVfxA__vxJRIZhA
Image Credits
Daniel Blanck with the peace symbol image. I blurred the other photos, let me know if you don’t want to include that in.
