Smooth Criminal is a song constantly sung in my household. Never the whole song, but the hook goes on and on around here… “Are you otay, Annie?” I honestly don’t remember where it came from. It could be from a camp where we met a kid named Annie, but I think it was before that.… Continue reading Are You Okay?
I’m sad about Chester Bennington, but I didn’t know him. I’m sad because someone who helped me fight could no longer fight himself. But I’m hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this tragedy will remind some of the many who spent years in the past with Linkin Park reminding them that they weren’t alone in the battle that it’s okay to keep fighting.
Netflix is buffering and there’s 15:13 left of 13 Reasons Why on the television screen and my heart is heavy in the way that the writers intended it to be. I’m thinking about friendships that have dragged me through dark days in such a way that suicide not once crossed my mind. I’m thinking about… Continue reading Chapters & Stories That End
I stood outside a crowded room today, taking slow breaths and trying to coax my feet into moving towards the room. Inwardly I begged them to move, begged my mind to be still enough to just get it done, to walk in and be present and then in a few hours, I could go hide… Continue reading It’s Okay
This Saturday, 10th September, is World Suicide Prevention Day. This is my plea for you to speak the words you’ve been afraid of anyone hearing. Have you ever bit your tongue to stop words from tumbling out? They’re trying to escape your mouth but the last thing you want is for someone to know what’s… Continue reading Speak, Please
It feels a little bit like you’re trapped inside yourself. Your thoughts move slowly and you desperately wish you could shake the clouds away, or run far away from them, but they’re all you can see and escape feels impossible. You can’t escape this moment. You’re stuck with it. In it. And you stay there.… Continue reading Of mist & battles
It’s Self-Injury Awareness Day. Here’s some words. What’s on your arm? I have friends who write words on theirs, reminders of good things or to-do list items. Others rock FitBits. Still others have bracelets that make them smile. My arms remind me of something different… On cold days, my skin tells stories of self-loathing. The… Continue reading Marks of Grace