It’s Still Real To Dr. Beardhussein, Dangit!
Another Time When It’s Actually Quite Serious
Okay, so I’m new to this whole thing, but I heard about To Write Love On Her Arms on Facebook and I knew instantly that I wanted to participate. The site/organization’s goal is to raise awareness of Depression, Self-Mutilation (cutting & the like), and Suicide. The idea is that you write love on your arm (as evidenced above–yes, that’s my arm and I wrote that about 30 minutes ago) and, when someone asks you what you mean, you tell them about the site/organization.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Depression is real. Sheeit, I will always be closer to depressed than I am towards happy. That doesn’t mean that I walk around constantly sad or hopeless every day, but it happens. However. I’m one of the lucky ones that can be knocked down by this particular foe, but still have the ability to have my spirits uplifted by amazing friends and family.
Unfortunately, not everyone is that lucky–as evidenced by this part of the site. My best friend, a beautiful girl, is bipolar with an emphasis on depression. She’s been depressed for about 4 or 5 years, and has been on meds and in online support groups for suicidal thoughts for the last year and change. She came close–frighteningly close–to fading into the black completely. Thankfully, the bipolar swung around, and her condition has improved, and for the first time in a long time, she can feel the same emotions that we all take for granted–love, friendship, happiness.
And that’s the fuckery fucker of the whole thing. Sure, there are meds and shit out there that are supposed to “treat” depression, but they don’t fucking treat depression. They numb and they mask and they turn beautiful people, with friends and family, into a series of Pod Persons. I wish I was kidding. My BFF, someone who I love more than I’ll ever be able to explain, was that kind of Pod Person. She was there, physically, but she wasn’t there.
The worst part was that I am an extremely affectionate person. I love telling people that I love them. I love making huge, grandiose expressions of my love and gratitude for the people in my life. It might not always shine thru on this site, but one of the things I will always be happy about is my ability to drag people back from the brink, to get them to believe that they are worth believing in. So, plainly put, it was a living fucking hell to know that all my speechifyin’ and songwriting and blog writing and the fact that I am Mr. 25/8, didn’t mean a thing because her illness wouldn’t allow the good to get to her.
So we come full circle, and I wrote LOVE on my arm. I wrote it for my best friend. I wrote it for myself. I wrote it for the other people that have been robbed of their ability to love and to laugh. I wrote it for the friends of those people, friends like me who are paralyzed and petrified that one day the disease might win and steal someone away for good.
And most importantly, I wrote it for the people who lost the battle. I can only hope that there is more After All This, and that you are in a place where you can smile, and love, and laugh, and enjoy the warm sun on your face.
The ink on my arm will wash off. The mark you left on our hearts and souls will never be forgotten.
I love you, Peggy. I’m glad you’re better.
Is this thing on? Gooood.
New IATS coming soon.