I know it’s a few days past the national To Write Love on Her Arms day, but no one’s ever claimed I’m anything but a procrastinator. It is important that there is a day in recognition of such a widespread problem, but one day is hardly enough. One day won’t help the people going through the pain of depression–it’s a lifelong, ongoing process.
For those of you who are new to the To Write Love on Her Arms movement, it’s a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping those with untreated depression. People who feel there is no hope–or, if there is, not enough hope for them. Desperate people in desperate need of love and community.
One of the most heartbreaking conditions is self-mutilation, which is often not a suicide attempt but a desperate attempt to find release. While not everyone carves words into her flesh to describe her failures (“fuck-up,” “loser,” “ugly,” etc.), every slice of the razor is a testament to her deep-seated belief that she is, in fact, a failure.
The name of the organization spells out its attempt to replace those scars of self-loathing with love. To let the suffering know that there is hope and redemption. If you are one of those suffering in silence, there is hope. Many of you are in situations that seem beyond human capability to handle, but you don’t have to deal with it alone. For those helplessly watching others in pain, reach out. Offer love, companionship, and community. Write love on their arms and hearts and lives.
God be with you.