But it was also born out of hope. This movement turned into a non-profit organization called To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA). TWLOHA turned ten this week. Ten years have passed since Renee first decided to get help. Ten years have passed in which TWLOHA has been able to reach people, to help people, to remind people that they do not have to walk through life alone.
In 2006, something big was birthed out of someone's cry for help and someone else answering that cry. Ten years ago, a change was made in Renee's life which told her she did not need to pick up the razor anymore. She did not need to run to drugs. She did not have to feel alone. Ten years.
That was ten years ago. That was 2006. It would be another four and a half years before that story meant anything to me. It would be another four and a half years before I picked up a blade for the first time and ran it across my own skin. It would be four and a half years before I felt a little glimpse of the loneliness that Renee felt for so many years, before I left self-injury take a hold in my life.
My battle with self-injury and depression is not something I enjoy talking about; it's not something I really want people knowing; but isn't part of life letting people in so they can walk through your life with you? I guess that's what I'm trying to accomplish here.
My struggles with self-injury lasted about a year. A year of hurt and confusion and pain and loneliness. A year that was a lot shorter than some people's battles with self-injury. A year that was a lot longer than I would like to admit.
TWLOHA is ten. I think ten is a pretty significant number; a lot can happen in ten years or ten days or with ten sentences or ten words. Keeping with the theme of ten, I want to tell you ten lies that my depression and self-injury told me.
- You are alone.
- You are not worthy of love.
- You don't want to tell anyone about this.
- You can't tell anyone about this.
- Even if you told someone, they wouldn't care.
- This is the best way to deal with the pain.
- Keep everything hidden. Everyone will judge you if they see your wounds or scars.
- God does not want to hear about your problems.
- Life will not get better.
- This is all you are worth.
Harsh. I know. The good news is, I am still here. I did not give in to the lies. Actually, I did sometimes; they did not beat me though. Ten lies I believed. Ten lies I still have to remind myself are lies. The things about lies is, though, there's always a truth on the other side. So, here are ten truths I have learned through the same struggle with depression and self-injury.
- You are never alone, even when people may not answer the phone. Your Heavenly Father is here, and He will always listen.
- You. Are. Worthy. Of. Love. Even when you don't feel like it.
- You don't want to tell anyone about this (some things don't change).
- You can tell people you trust and respect about this.
- People care deeply for you, but you are very quick to forget that. Let yourself be loved.
- God has given you art and nature and friendship. These are things you can use to combat the pain.
- There is power in being honest. Not everyone will judge you, and those who do simply don't understand. Shake the dust, honey.
- God cares about you, dummy. (Sometimes you gotta call yourself names.) He already knows all about you, yet He loves you anyway. Pleasepleaseplease run to Him.
- Life will always get better. Pain is temporary; so is depression. Plus, even during the struggle, you have a better home, a better place waiting for you on the other side.
- You are worth so much more than all your pain. Someone died to help you realize that. (So listen to Him! His blood covers you.)
I say my struggles with self-injury ended the day I put down the blade and resolved I would not pick it up again (which happened multiple times with no success, but I refer here to the one time I actually did succeed in this), mostly because I don't run to the blade anymore, but the struggle is not over. Depression still exists in my life, and depression is a creature that many don't understand (even those who struggle with it). I still think about self-harm. I don't like saying that. It makes me feel weak knowing that it still has a little bit of a hold somewhere in my brain. But I do still think about it.
I can't say I have always perfectly avoided self-harm ever since the day I stopped. But I have never (by the grace of God) fallen back into it like I did before. And I have found better ways of dealing with the feelings of loneliness or sadness or not feeling anything but feeling numb. God has shown me about expressing myself through art and through writing. He has shown me wonder in His creation and how lovely and healing a day in the woods can be. He has shown me the power of friendship, the power of truth, the power of seeing lies for what they are. He has shown me that I am worth so much more than what I believe myself to be worth.
If TWLOHA is ten, I will be five this year. I am five with still some scars and some hurt and some struggles that might never fully go away. But I am five with hope and resolve and a God who loves me. I am five with a fight, and I am five surrounded by others who are five or ten or seven or one or maybe just a couple months old. But we are people with a story still going, people who will not give up because we believe in better things and in healing. We believe things can still be new, things can be better, things will not always be this way.
Healing does exist. It is not an easy road or a fun one. But it's a road you can choose.
If you're struggling today, press on.
If you're struggling today, keep fighting.
If you're struggling today, remember you are not alone.
You are not alone.
You are not alone.
