Today is to write love on her arms day, as a lot of people do not know. So what is to write love on her arms? With its long name, its an organisation to help people who are depressed and suicidal, also those in need of love.
Why do I strongly support this movement and how did I get to know about it? I´ll tell you my story.
About a few months ago, a friend of mine asked me if I could order a t-shirt of this movement for him. I was curious about what it was. At first I thought it was a band of some kind. Than a story was told. It´s a movement to help stop (or decrease) the numbers of those who are suicidal or depressed in our world today. In this ever so fast moving millenium, people are more materialistic and yearn for power rather than being human and have a basis of being human such as loving one another. People struggle, keep quiet and not tell, no connections to the outside human world and deep inside, they are bleeding for who knows what reason. Feeling unloved, rejected, as of a failure to the human race. Than its thier last call... to end everything that is and was. Suicide happens.
So my story today is how my life and this movement goes on the same track...
I was young, a happy child with a family. A mother, a father and a sister. I´ve always thought things are going to always stay that way. A loving family, but with deeps secrets untold. A father who keeps things his way, so does his dark secrets. He was always out without notice and in the early 90´s cellphones was far from popular. In and out, until a day when I never saw him. The last was in a black suite in his dearly wooden home. What would a 5 year old like me know about life and death. Nothing. I was taken out of my kindergarten class to my fathers village where I could´nt count the days that I´ve stayed there. But in my fathers village, he was not in sight. It was more of a festival where all the village people came to give their condolences and I was running happily playing with my cousins. The innocence of a child. The unknown meaning of adults in tears. It only came to me when my uncle was screaming questioning God why his brother had to be gone forever. The first time I shed tears for my late father.
I occured to me that my father was not with us now. Not that I ever knew why or how. During my younger years, me and my sister would rummage old documents to find out the real reason why he went away. We found a report about heart failure. Our conclusion, he died of to much heavy smoking. At the age of 16, i needed proof of death of my father for me to apply a schlorship. My mother went to the bank safe to take it out. I faced reality at that time. It read, suicidal death by drinking pesticede. Of all this years, I never really knew what happened. Now its so real that what I watch in homocide movies could turn out alive. And in my own home.
Life was never easy. We have all struggled at some point, who hasnt. But suicide is not a key to happiness. It is an act of selfishness. Two young children and a single mother. Not forgetting my fathers mounting depths. We hardly had anything to hold onto but faith. I could have given up, my sister and mother could have done the same. But what would it bring us to? More pain and more suffering to those left behind. Like what happened to my family. Its not a smooth road but hey, I´m still here and in flesh. Times I would question if my life could me any different, what positive or maybe negative effects it would bring. Sometimes thinking, maybe suicidal was in my blood and no one could blame me if I did it. All evil would suggest me to do as such, but the stregth of love from people who love me was more than enough to sustain me from such an act. Not forgetting the love of my God that He will always be there for me through all circumstances.
So that was my story, not much but just a preview of what effects suicide has on the victims family. Its not cool to slice up your arms and scarr them up. Ten years down the road, you´ll know how much stupidness you put into it. Suicide and depression is not an "emo" issue nor is it a hollywood screen act. It´s an individual act of suffering and an untold dark story. You never know who is going to take their own life next. The person beside you may look happy today but gone tomorrow.
Love more and lend an ear, also a hand to those around you. You never know you might save a life from the gates of hell.
Read more about the movement at http://www.twloha.com
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