My first TWLOHA |
Sabrina, Mom & Dad's 'love marks' |
Yesterday I had the great privilege of finally participating in my first "To Write Love On Her Arms Day." Wheww, the title is a mouthful to say, but the organization is just incredible. In their own words, the mission of "TWLOHA" is:
"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 me what this means is simple...depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide most definitley exist in our world. The rate of all of these is rising at an alarm rate with my generation. Its a scary time, and knowing from experience...these kids and young adults are just trying to find a way to release the pain. When I was thirteen years old and first picked up a knife, I didn't know what I was doing. I'd never heard of cutting before, no one ever told me what it was or why people believed it helped them...I just was in pain and wanted it gone. I used to say that the reason I'd cut was to turn emotional pain into physical pain, because physical injury will always heal.
This organization offers hope to those who suffer and shares stories of thousands of people who've overcome their addictions, dropped the knife once and for all, and chose LIFE. What better way to fill yourself with the encouragement you need than to witness so many people live happy lives, fulfilling lives, because they chose to fight for their life?
As a twenty year old, my little brain holds more tragic memories than it should...and it is still painful to remember, sometimes brutal to talk about, but always a reminder. Yesterday I found myself holding back tears at work when I got the photo from my mom and saw that my little sister and dad also wrote love on their arms. Not that a mother's love isn't cherished...because I love my momma more than anything...but when I saw that my sister and dad supported the day too, I broke down. Dad's always been one of the 'strong silent' types, and never really said he loved us first, he'd wait for us to say it then tell us. Living in a house full of girls who are all 'i love you sluts' however has changed him :) To see him supporting this cause...felt like he was somehow saying he was proud of me for where I've made it to. Here come the tears again as I write this because knowing your dad is proud of you...as a daughter, somehow that is just one of the best feelings in the world. I was blessed to have two daddy's in my life, and even though God had to call one home when I was seventeen I couldn't have been more blessed to have the one I do in my life.
I beat depression, many times over, and have since then sworn off the knife. I choose life -- with whatever curves and road bumps it has in store, I know that I have the support system to rise above anything. Not only that, but they did a great job raising us to be fighters...we all know how to strive for what we want.
Today I am a proud survivor of depression, and a proud supporter of To Write Love on Her Arms as they continue the fight to offer light and hope to anyone facing the darkness.
In Strength,
Arianne Elizabeth
Ps. For more information on this organization and to purchase merchandise so you can spread the Love Movement more than just once a year visit www.twloha.com
Proud of you!! <3 I, like you, picked up a blade without really thinking about it. And before I knew it, I had a problem. I used to do it for the release of pressure, and for control-- if I inflicted the injury myself, I could at least control it, which I could NOT do during a period of partner abuse in my teens. I'm in recovery now, and I am so grateful to the Lord for walking with me through it!
ReplyDelete