The recent issue of Rolling Stone has an article on featuring Jamie Tworkowski of To Write Love on Her Arms.

Their blog posted a really cool video and article about the photo shoot they did with people who’ve been affected by to work of TWLOHA.

File Under: He’s pretty tall.

November 13, 2009 The Xcell Academy Design Team hosted “To Write Love on Her Arms” day.  The student body was able to wear jeans and a T-shirt to the school.  Upon arriving, the students had the Design Team paint “love” on their arms for a $3 donation. Donations will help the To Write Love on Her Arms foundation which is a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people struggling with depression,  addiction, self-injury, and suicide.

It is quite a feat to allow oneself to feel the weightiness of a broken world, knowing that we are powerless to cure it, yet remain unhindered in wholly committing oneself to the betterment of it. Experiencing the weightiness of a broken world in any measure is a feat in itself, but to add in one’s own investment to a cause that never seems satiated is like a circus act. We ask for a heart that breaks like God’s, yet we cannot handle it because our hearts are far too weak.  We ask for God to use us for his purposes, yet we are ignorant mess-ups who couldn’t possibly be of much help to God.  As ironic as it sounds, I believe this is what hope in God looks like.

I often experience this irony.  I have so much passion for evangelism and for others to know the Lord fully, but I often feel that everything is “a chasing after the wind.”  Read Ecclesiastes.

However, the apostle Paul tells us to run in such a way to win the prize.  In 1 Corinthians, Paul explains life as ferocious fight to the finish.  Sprinters train and train so that when they compete, they will reach the finish line first.  Two things confuse me about this though: Christians aren’t trying to be ‘better’ than other Christians, and if the prize/crown we receive is God and eternity, then don’t we already have that?  I still believe that when Paul talks about the crown he is talking about victory.  Although we already have victory in Christ the moment we receive Him as our Lord and Savior, we are still asked to run a race as if we have everything to lose if we fail. This is faith.  If our goal was to receive salvation, then we have made Christianity about us.  However, if our goal is Christ, MORE Christ, then we have every reason to sprint, if we indeed are madly in love with Him.   When a child has been separated from his mother for a time, he may run to her when he firsts sees her again.  This is especially true if the child comes from a place that was dark and frightening.  Why does he run?  Won’t he get to her either way?  It seems that the method of getting to his mother does not make a difference in whether he gets there or not, but his running does seem to imply a love and longing for the one who will keep in safe in her arms.

I know there are times when life seems hopeless, when this race seems aimless.  I have often felt that this world was meaningless.  I have been so weighed down by hurt and heartache that it leaves me immobilized. I have also felt depressed because of the many evils in the world.  It feels like this race is so meaningless sometimes.  Truly, the thing that keeps me going is hope in Christ.  It’s not easy because it still feels like I’m hanging by a thread sometimes, but it’s my only hope.  We all must hope in something.  If we do not believe in God, we must believe that either there is no God, or that there is some imperfect, evil, or incompetent God.  Either of the latter two options would make this life not worth living.  I want to reassure you that I am not entertaining thoughts of losing my life, but I do know that some do.  Many feel depressed.  But when depression is coupled with hopelessness then we are in trouble.  We need hope.

This is how God showed his love for us.  Christ wrote love on his arms when he allowed the nails to be driven through them.  He wrote love on his arms so you would not have to express self-hate on yours. Therefore protect your life, because Christ gave his for yours!

“Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3:13, 14

I just liked these pictures.

http://www.twloha.com/

Did you see anyone with LOVE written on her arms last Friday?

We (MissN and me) had Love written on our arms:

I guess we could have been a bit more creative, huh? Colour would have been good.  My friend Sam had photos on facebook of the most amazingly colourful arms on her and her friend!

Why did we use permanemt marker on ourselves?  To raise awareness and  show our support for the issues and more importantly to show support for those suffering from depression, self harm and addiction.  And to celebrate that there IS hope and recovery.

Thanks to Melly – I copied the post below from your blog.  I’m sure you don’t mind.

MISSION STATEMENT:

To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.

VISION:

The vision is that we actually believe these things…

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you’re part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world. My friend Byron is very smart – he says that life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you’re not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty but also to tragedy and loss. Millions of people live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know that pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real.

You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption. We’re seeing it happen. We’re seeing lives change as people get the help they need. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it’s worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it’s possible to change.

Beyond treatment, we believe that community is essential, that people need other people, that we were never meant to do life alone.

The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles.

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in Australia and around the world.

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.

The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships. The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change.

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead.

The vision is the possibility that we’re more loved than we’ll ever know.

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story.

[ from http://www.twloha.com/vision/ ]

If  suspect someone you know is self harming, please urge them to get professional help.  It’s addictive and very common amongst teens, especially girls.  Many will try it because it’s “in” (and the emo subculture is an almost-mainstream way for to express their pain) and become addicted to dealing with their pain and depression with self harm, instead of learning other ways of coping and managing their mental health.

Today I had another epic skype conversation with a friend. She and I talked for a total of 6 hours (we got disconnected once). Last week we talked for five. How do we do it? Where does the time go? Neither of us really knows. We talk about everything from social justice (something that’s big on both of our hearts), to boys (duh, we’re girls), to our faith, to every and anything else.

She and I have decided to do a blog once a day for the month of November (now that I’ve admitted it publicly I’m going to have to hold myself to it). We didn’t start until the third, so it may be a little less than the full month.

She mentioned tonight as we were getting off (at 4 am, her time) that she had intended to write today about To Write Love On Her Arms*, something we both decided to do and according to the facebook invite, it was to be celebrated today (her time) or yesterday (mine). Anyways, because of the late time, when we stopped talking, she just wrote a short blurb and went to bed.

Did she really miss celebrating it by not writing about it? I think she chose to live it instead. She spent the day totally loving on the middle school students in her youth group. Then she spent the time to talk to me for an insane amount of time. Sounds like living it to me.

For me, my biggest love language is quality time, time when I really get to talk to someone and hear their heart and open mine to them. It can take the shape of real conversation, texts, crazy facebook notes, letters, instant messenger, or tons of other ways. For me, it can’t be forced into a short conversation in a few minutes. I don’t open up about deeper things in short amounts of time.

Being so far away from everyone and everything I know has been hard for that reason. It’s hard to spend quality time with people, when there are only a few odd hours when your free (non-work/sleep time) matches up and weekends for both ends are spent doing things that are not around the computer. That makes me feel the distance more. I feel more distant from friends when I don’t talk to them regularly.

Anyways, she showed me this website and I realized I needed to share some of the things it was talking about with her. I needed someone to know some of the deeper things that were going on with me, so that I would truly be known and so that someone could lift me up in prayer. After sharing with her, I didn’t feel like I was really so far away from everyone. Also, being a verbal processor, some of the problems that I thought seemed so huge, seemed so much smaller.**

This particular friend showed me true friendship by willing to sit and listen, to share her heart. I am so thankful.

——————————

*Please note, that while this site is aimed at people “struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide,” those are not things I’m dealing with. However, I have been dealing with the distance from home (some homesickness) and making friends in a new place. It has not been easy, but the Lord has been holding me up and providing new friendships in unexpected places.
**Also, please note that this is not a cry for help, but a way to say thank you to a friend, a chance to reflect on the way I spent my day.

Today is To Write Love on Her Arms Day. For those who don’t know, it’s a non-profit organization working to put an end to depression & self-multilation, i.e. cutting.

Growing up, life hasn’t always been too kind. I had an alcoholic father who had a really bad temper, and took his anger out on whatever he could get a grip on. I’ve seen frying pans fly across the kitchen, dishes being smashed into the ground, clothes being torn, my parents’ wedding photos shredded. I spent a great chunk of my life being afraid of my father & pretty much feeling like the only girl in my class that had problems. I don’t know what a “normal” childhood/life is. My father was just never there for me, period. He wasn’t there for my sixteenth birthday, he wasn’t there for my graduation… He left us for another woman when I was about seventeen. I fell into depression.

I had suicidal thoughts. I resorted to cutting. At that time, cutting felt like the only way to cope with things. It took away my pain & anger… only temporarily.

It wasn’t until I truly found a God that saved me from cutting. However, I still do have suicidal thoughts now & then, and that only convinces me that depression is something that lingers for a long time.

HERO by Superchic[k] definitely helped me a lot growing up & easing my depression.

No one talks to her, she feels so alone
She’s in too much pain to survive on her own
The hurt she can’t handle overflows to a knife
She writes on her arm, wants to give up her life
Each day she goes on is a day that she’s brave
Fighting the lie that giving up is the way
Each moment of courage, her own life she saves
When she throws the pills out,
A hero is made.

I can only hope that people who are suffering from depression are finally free. I hope to truly be free, once & for all.

If you are unaware, today is “To Write Love On Her Arm” Day where people are encouraged not only to write love on their arms but to live out love in their lives.

Came across a great article that has some good reflections about this day, read it here. (Taken from twloha blog)

I hope that you participated in the event and if you didn’t, you still have time!! Show someone love who needs just a little!

to write love on her arms

here

here

here

13 november 2009

[mood | silly]

[listening to | Mr. Brightside by The Killers]

So…To Write Love On Her Arms Day is over. It was a huge event with my group of friends, and we spent our morning laughing together and writing all over our arms with Sharpies and pens. A lot of us drew, and I wrote a poem for everyone, which was promptly written down on any bare flesh we could find on our arms.

The poem is a sweet little thing I whipped up on the fly called “Lonely Hearts”:

Lonely hearts and twisted thoughts
Tapping on piano keys
Fingers strum an old guitar
The guitar with broken strings
The soprano has lost her voice
The notes sound pale and thin
The band is lost, broken apart
From the darkness within.

Although it hurts
It doesn�t win
The light breaks through
The darkness held within
It warms their heart
This brilliant light
And reminds them they are friends
And they will never be torn apart.

It was a magical day, and it made us all feel better about ourselves. All of us were brought together because we had the need to heal. We all had been depressed, and together we are trying to recover. Our friendship is strong because we all know that we’re going to be there for each other. I consider myself very blessed to have friends that are like family to me.

I hope you all had a fun day, and I hope to hear back from you if you participated today. I myself will be busy working and drawing.

Much love,

Victoria

Depression sucks. Literally. It sucks your energy. It sucks your joy. It eats you alive. And I’m speaking from experience. I was diagnosed with depression as a junior in high school. I didn’t want to go to school. I didn’t want to do anything. I’d lay on the couch, watching television, doing nothing. And I didn’t want to admit that something was wrong. But I got help. Five years later, I still have my bad days, but I can recognize it now. When I start to feel down, I force myself to 1. figure out what’s bothering me, and 2. make myself do something, so I don’t sit around dwelling in misery. I may never get rid of depression, but I’ve learned to recognize it and fight it.

my 2010 TWLOHA "design"

As many of you know, today is TWLOHA day: To Write Love On Her Arms, a day to spread awareness about issues such as self-harm and suicide prevention.  The organization itself is amazing, and you really should check it out and donate if possible.  They have done a lot to raise awareness about the “ugly” issues that no one really wants to address.  But if you shove something underground because you don’t want to talk about it or confront it, more and more people are going to suffer.  And TWLOHA is determined not to let that happen.

Last year on this day, I handed out postcards to my students with information about the organization that had the suicide prevention phone number on it.  This year, student-less, I have stickers, one of which is on my laptop.  It’s a little thing to do.   And I have a shirt.  And sometimes people ask me what it means, and that gives me a chance to expose someone to something they may not be aware of.  Or it gives me the chance to correct common myths.

• MYTH: “cutters” aren’t just failed suicide attempts.

People who cut do so because it meets a need.  It relieves anxiety.  It calms them down.  It numbs the pain.  It lets them escape the world for awhile.  It’s the same result as when someone drinks or uses drugs as a means of escape.

• MYTH: People who cut can just stop.

This is like saying the person addicted to cocaine can just walk away.  Self-injury is not just a behavioral addiction.  When the body is injured, the body releases endorphins, natural opiates.  That take away the pain.  Take away the thing that masks the pain, and you will have an individual going through withdrawal.

• MYTH: People who cut are stupid.  I mean, who would do that to him or herself?

I was salutatorian of my high school class and voted most likely to succeed.  I had a 4.0 during various semesters in college, graduating summa cum laude.  I began cutting when I was twelve.

• MYTH: There is no hope for people who cut.  Obviously they want to cut.

Most people who cut have a love/hate relationship.  They love the results of cutting-the escape from pain-but they hate the fact that they cut.  I hate that my arms are covered in scars and that I am self-conscious every time I step in front of a classroom wearing short sleeves. But there is hope.  There are treatment programs for self-harm now.  There are treatment modules developed specifically for people who engage in self-injury.  I did an intensive inpatient program for self-harm and was IP for three months, followed immediately by a three month outpatient program. Both used Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, and I still find those skills helpful on a day-to-day bases.

There is hope.  There is a way out.  Like anything else, you have got to want it hard enough, and you’ve got to work like hell to get there.  But it is possible.

Friday 13th November is To Write Love On Her Arms Day. It’s a non- profit movement which is to raise awareness and present hope for people struggling with depression, addiction, self- injury and suicide. Although I personally have never suffered from any of these, it has affected my friends. One of my old SL friends suffered seriously with self harm. While I was friends with her she was regularly cutting herself as a way to release any stress or depression she was feeling, usually triggered by her boyfriend. We lost contact now but according to her profile she’s left SL which is a shame. I just hope she is ok :S My partners daughter in rl suffers from depression, as far as I know she hasn’t had any bad moments lately. She’s happy now, settled with her bf, they have a little puppy and a baby is on its way \o/ (I’ll be an unofficial grandma! I’m only 24 lol :S)

I know that some people find SL as a way to get away from their RL problems, they can enter a virtual world where they can be someone totally different. In one way, using SL as an escape might help them for a short time, but eventually it will only make things worse because SL can affect your emotions more than people actually realise. I’ve had experiences in SL that have hurt and upset me, some people don’t realise that there are real people behind the computer with real feelings. That’s one of the downsides of SL. For me though, I owe everything to SL because it’s how I met my RL partner \o/ Thank you SL.

Anyways, Whisper Swansong has made a set of tattoos especially for this event. It is available through the Fabulously Free in SL group inworld. Basically people in SL that are participating in this event wear pixel tattoos with the word Love on their bodies. It doesn’t necessarily have to be on your arms. Here are the tattoos:

Credits:

Hair: STUFF ‘Emma Brunette’

Skin: Pink Fuel ‘Skye <chai> Scene’

Bikini Top: *~*evie*~* ‘Red Bikini’ (made by me, not released yet)

Pants: BOOM ‘Seaman Pants- Red Cross’

Shoes: BeetleBones ‘Satin Flats & Ribbons in White’

Tattoos: Whisper Swansong (Fabulously Free in SL group gift) ‘To Write Love On Her Arms’

(Sorry about the arse crack! lol)

Hey, I guess I’m going to post sooner than December. :]

Here’s the deal girls.

Today.

Friday the 13th.

Is To Write Love on Her Arms Day.

For those who don’t know what To Write Love on Her Arms [TWLOHA] is check their website.http://www.twloha.com/

They are a non-profit organization that strives to help those facing addictions by telling them “love is real.”

Today is the day, where people all around the world write love on their arms, showing people hope is real and alive.

It’s a helpline for cutters, druggies, etc. For this facing the world alone.

I support them. I think they are amazing.

so I’m letting the word spread.

Check them out.

Hope is Real.

Love is the Movement.

Rescue is Possible

To Write Love On Her Arms.

This set-up might be familiar for some people- I did a photo like this back around spring this year. There are some major notable differences, though: there’s daylight and the avatar is not a fantasy creation. As part of “To Write Love on Her Arms” Day, I’m sharing a story I’ve avoided publicly presenting for fear of criticism and write-offs.

This is my real life story of depression, self-harm, addiction, and – yes – suicide.

Long before the incident in April ‘09, I was writing on my arm. Not “love” or anything like that:

Life’s just a blast
Movin’ really fast-
Better stay on top
Or life will kick you in the ass.

And there ain’t nothin’ I can do,
‘Cause life is a lesson-
You learn it when you’re through.

These were all the lyrics I remember of Limp Bizkit’s “Take a Look Around” as I dragged a black ball point pin across my skin in my Advanced Placement English class after being scolded randomly for drawing in my notebook. Until that class and that teacher, I had always been an exemplary student; until that class and that teacher, no one had a problem with me doodling. After that student teacher scolded me, saying that I wasn’t paying attention – despite me being able to clearly remember what was being said – I… I guess you could say I fell.

The school counselors were fairly close to me, however, and took me under there care; my high school’s career counselor kept me out of that class while still doing work. My mother, however, had a lot harder time taking the news, initially being in disbelief and that I was somehow looking for attention. I don’t blame her- I always seemed to present myself as happy and successful, never complained about the harassment from my peers, and I was going through those ‘angsty’ teenage years. And understandably, she didn’t want another family member so close to her to go through that trauma again.

She eventually accepted the diagnosis, the ink washed off, and I began therapy treatment. I remained in a clinically low demeanor through January, aggravated in part by the History Channel’s Apocalypse Week around my birthday (I have a self-imposed rule about not watching anything about the end of the world now). With the acceptance phone call to my first choice college, a rush of euphoria picked me up and carried me to graduation.

The second major depressive episode I experienced occurred the spring of my freshman year. Through J-term, I began to develop an addiction to Second Life, with it’s open opportunity for free-form roleplay and expansive avatar customization in a three dimensional, multi-player realm.

And then along came Julia.

I honestly don’t care if her or any of her friends find this and read it- she made my life a living nightmare. She transformed our shared dorm room into her personal landfill- literally. There was dry macroni spilled across the floor and never cleaned up, garbage stacked and overflowing in the bins, and everyday I felt like I had less and less of my own space to live. I threw myself into my imaginary world, seeking comfort from the pain of reality I had no control over. I stopped going to class, stopped communicating with college friends… stopped washing… stopped eating…

When my mother picked me up that one weekend, I just wanted to be held. I think she still has the photos of the waste that… monstrosity of a human created. I tried to say something to the Residential Director of the hall of what the problems were, but Rudyard Kipling put it best: “Also, badly-treated children have a clear notion of what they are likely to get if they betray the secrets of a prison-house before they are clear of it” (Kipling, Something of myself, 1935). Julia had “friends”, and after what I experienced through public schooling, the social damage she could have caused at the time might have been far worse (at least, in my mind at the time) than what I was living through then.

Once more, I went into therapy, going through two women before I found one old-school counselor that had the balls to not only shake me out of my addiction but also give me hope for the future.

Sometime after the mess with the first evil room mate (I’ve had two, and now happily pay the extra for a single room), I connected with someone that would be my real life and Second Life partner for three years. Those three years ended abruptly on March 18th; I’m not sure how he’s reasoned away things, but from reflection and the benefit of my psychological education, I’m placing my money on a severe mental and emotional break-down caused by an inability to handle stress and re-imaging how he saw himself. He persisted in remaining friends and weaving together some magical story for his new reality… And it ended up doing more harm than good.

Despite having a number of supportive individuals around me, I still felt terribly alone and absolutely worthless. I was diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, and anxiety disorder in January ‘09, and the ability to control my thoughts kept the spiral going. To give you an idea, consider how you can get a song stuck in your head and just seem unable to get it out. Change the song to a series of persistent thoughts that override any consciously-driven thoughts; they also occur at any time and cannot be easily controlled. This is how I live day-to-day, and that one night in April, all I could think of was how exhausted I was of everything- tired of trying, tired of going on. What was the point? What difference would my life make? I just wanted to go to sleep… for good…

I had prescription sleeping pills in my room. They were given to me back in March during the break-up when I my mind would whirl all through the night hours; when I considered myself depressed but not to the point I would kill myself. Suicide was for selfish individuals that didn’t think about how they affected other people… right?

As I looked at the bottle, I wavered in my seat. I felt amiss, uncomfortable with my surroundings. I had to get out of my room and get the pills away from me. For all the marks against the all-girl hall, it saved me that night- the hall RD took the medication away, and a number of tender-hearted souls took care of me.

I lived.

I won’t be scraping angry lyrics on my arm today; instead, I will be writing the world “love” on my arm and talking to people who ask me about it. People might not believe me, of what I’ve been through; other people may not think it’s that ‘intense’.

But it’s my story, and it’s shaped who I am. If there’s a chance I’ll reach someone, to give them at least insight, then I’ll have made an impact on the world.

People who have never suffered from real depression don’t understand. In fact, that’s probably the best way to know that you’ve never been seriously depressed and you should count yourself extremely lucky.

Real depression is a road that no one should have to go down, but over 131 million people do, every single day of their lives. The worst part is that over 2/3 of those people go down that road by themselves. They never find help, they never see the light at the end of their tunnel, and most often they end with substance abuse or worse, suicide.

Depression Road is what I imagine that Hell is like. Your own personal Hell. If someone was able to turn depression into a weapon of war, the human race would be obliterated. It’s lonely, it’s dark, there are monsters, and if you’re there, you can’t find a way out.

I know depression.

I know heartbreak.

I know anger, sadness, fear, humility, and guilt.

I also know courage.

The thing is, I don’t feel courageous. I’m told I am by everyone that knows me, but I don’t always see it in myself. Every single day, I’m bombarded with guilt. It’s all my fault. I have failed both of my children. One of them, so badly that I don’t have him anymore. The other one, I failed in that I wasn’t there for him when he apparently needed me the most. I’ve failed my family. I’ve failed myself.

It’s easier to fall back to that depression than it is to pull myself out of it. It’s easier to eat a half pint of cream cheese icing and sleep for hours than it is to get up and get dressed and go outside to do something. It’s easier to swallow that entire bottle of Oxycontin than it is to live with the hurt, betrayal, and heartbreak. The hardest part of all is finding help. That’s the humiliating part.

What depressed people don’t realize though (and it’s not their fault, the depression doesn’t allow them to see), is that finding help isn’t really that hard at all. You are NOT alone. You DON’T deserve this, and you CAN fix it all. You CAN start over.

Today is To Write Love On Her Arms Day. To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire, and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery. www.twloha.com

When I picked out Carlton’s parents, when I signed the adoption papers relinquishing my rights as his parent, when I left the hospital without the baby I’d just given birth to, I knew I had done the right thing. I was just a few steps lower than what I thought rock-bottom was.

I can tell you with complete honesty, that if I’d not asked for help…I would have been six feet under, three years ago.

You are loved. Find help.

911
1-800-SUICIDE (NATIONAL HOPELINE NETWORK)
www.self-injury.com (S.A.F.E. Alternatives)
1-800-799-SAFE (NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HELPLINE)

I write LOVE on my arms today. If you stand still long enough, I will write LOVE on yours, too.

I love you.

Now, I can cover up my scars with love.

Today is To Write Love on Her Arms Day. All over the US, and maybe even the world, people write the word “love” on their arms in celebration of life and to respect those that we have lost due to addiction, self-mutilation and suicide.

To Write Love on Her Arms (or TWLOHA) is a great organization. When I was younger, they didn’t exist, so I (and a few people I knew) had to suffer in silence, and deal with issues like suicide and self-mutilation alone. When I was dealing with issues of addiction in my community, I didn’t necessarily turn to TWLOHA, but it was helpful to know that there was a community like that that existed. I guess it just made me feel less alone.

As TWLOHA says on their website, To Write Love On Her Arms Day is not about fashion. Or trendiness.

We’re inviting people to fight for their lives and for the lives of their friends. We’re inviting people to believe better things. …

Let’s continue to fight to figure out what this word “love” means. Let’s wrestle with to find how it looks and how it sounds – maybe something like humility and confidence and kindness, maybe honesty and compassion…

We’re in all these things together. It’s bigger than cute and louder than fashion.

In all of this, only one thought, and one song comes to mind. I know it may sound corny, but I’ve been listening to Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors” all morning.

Here are the lyrics. I see them more as a love letter in the non-romantic way. I send these words out today to the TWLOHA community, and to all people who are or ever have thought about committing suicide, cutting, or addiction, and to those dealing with it now.

You with the sad eyes. Don’t be discouraged. Oh, I realize it’s hard to take courage. In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all and the darkness inside you can make you fell so small.

But I see your true colors shining through. I see your true colors, and that’s why I love you. So don’t be afraid to let them show. Your true colors, true colors, are beautiful like a rainbow.

Show me a smile then. Don’t be unhappy. Can’t remember when I last saw you laughing. If this world makes you crazy and you’ve taken all you can bear, you call me up because you know I’ll be there.

And I’ll see your true colors shining through. I see your true colors, and that’s why I love you. So don’t be afraid to let them show. Your true colors, true colors, are beautiful like a rainbow.

Almost every night I join my fellow procrastinators in the hall for a late-night study sessions. Our talk is usually centered around, “We have a test in Bible tomorrow? WHAT?!” And, “Oh how neat! Facebook has a dislike button now.” But tonight, after all that talk, we found out our friend Janna was leaving ACU (Abilene Christian University) for California this weekend and wasn’t coming back. This was right after we remembered that today is To Write Love on Her Arms day. We’re all big fans of this organization, and it’s been a big part of Janna’s life, so we decided to send Janna off with a little we-love-you party. We brought out some Sharpies and eye liner to write love all over her, and ourselves. These are some pictures from our late-night TWLOHA party. I encourge you to check out the TWLOHA story at http://www.twloha.com/vision/story/. That story inspired me to become a writer, and writing eventually inspired me to become a photographer. So all in all, you can thank TWLOHA for this blog Enjoy!

If anyone want’s to send me some TWLOHA pictures, I’ll upload them in a new post! E-mail them to me at mkg09a@acu.edu.

www.twloha.com

Precious Janna above, decked out in “love.”

Writing love on our arms

And on our foreheads!

A few candids, of course.

Today on the site we are going to do something a little different.  Normally you can find all your laugh out loud stories and stupid things that people do.  But today we would like to focus on something that has truly caught our attention and we hope it catches yours too.  I can assure you that someone in your life is affected by one of the things that this day is about.

To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.

To Write Love On Her Arms Day is a day where anyone can write the words love on their arms, to support those who are fighting against depression and those who are trying to recover. On this day, just write love on your arms, and show it off, other people will ask why you have love written on your arms, and you tell them you are supporting to write love on her arms day, and how its benefiting a non profit organization helping stop depression, and make love the movement

Here are some facts if you don’t believe that depression is one of the biggest problems in the United States.

-121 million people worldwide suffer from depression. (The World Health Organization)

-18 million of these cases are happening in the United States. (The National Institute of Mental Health)

-Between 20% and 50% of children and teens struggling with depression have a family history of this struggle and the offspring of depressed parents are more than three times as likely to suffer from depression. (U.S. Surgeon General’s Survey, 1999)

-Depression often co-occurs with anxiety disorders and substance abuse, with 30 percent of teens with depression also developing a substance abuse problem.   (NIMH)

-2/3 of those suffering from depression never seek treatment.

Untreated depression is the number one cause of suicide, and suicide is the third leading cause of death among teenagers. (NIMH)

Today is also a day to fight addiction, addiction is something that has greatly affected me in my life.  I have close family members who still fight addiction to this day.  I used to blame these family members for a lot of my childhood problems.  The thing is addiction is just that, once you start with something with addictive properties it is very hard to stop.  Once you stop it’s very hard to stay clean and not slide back into that life that you know so well.  The stigma associated with addiction is one of the greatest challenges to recovery. Each year only 10 percent of Americans who need alcohol and drug treatment get the help they need. Yet with treatment and support, people with addiction can lead productive lives.  Convincing someone to get treatment is a very hard thing to do.  I have tried on multiple occasions to get help for people very close to me and if the person does not want help then it is impossible for them to receive it.  You need to convince the person that they have a problem and only when they realize that they do can they get the help they need.  No matter what don’t give up on that person that is close to you that has the problem.  They need your help,  please try and do everything you can.

Here are some websites and numbers you can call for information and help with these subjects.
National Hopeline Network (U.S.A.) -  www.hopeline.com – 1-800-SUICIDE

S.A.F.E. Alternatives -  www.selfinjury.com – Self Abuse Finally Ends

Childhelp –  www.childhelp.org – 1-800-4-A-CHILD – National Child Abuse Hotline

National Domestic Violence Helpline -  www.ndvh.org   – 1-800-799-SAFE

Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network -  www.rainn.org – 1-800-656-HOPE National Sexual Assault Hotline

National Eating Disorders Association – www.nationaleatingdisorders.org – 1-800-931-2237

You can read more about this event, donate or buy a t-shirt that all the profits help these causes at TWLOHA.com.  Here are a couple videos on TWLOHA and I truly hope that you can participate in this event today and every year to come.  It would mean a lot to many people across the world.  Thank you from everyone at Get It 2gether!

Yes, yes I did.  In permanent black Sharpie I wrote the word LOVE on my arm in support of International To Write Love On Her Arms Day 2009.  I encourage you to join me in this silent, but powerful movement to raise awareness for suicide and it’s prevention.

As I was deciding where it was going to be easiest to write the word LOVE, I instantly realized that I want this word permanently etched into my arm.  This small four letter word will be my next tattoo.  And every time someone asks me why I got the word love on my arm, I’ll have a reason to spread even more awareness.

Thank you to TWLOHA for all that you do to get the word out and to help those in need.