you can’t raise a baby on shame;
I had never heard of To Write Love On Her Arms, a non-profit movement dedicated to hope and help for people struggling with depression, self-injury, addiction and suicide, before last night. From the movement’s vision:
You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption. We’re seeing it happen. We’re seeing lives change as people get the help they need. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it’s worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it’s possible to change.
As you may be aware, this is a cause very close to my heart and to the hearts of many of the people closest to me. Because some of us write love on our arms, and some of us tattoo cold roses on our wrists. It’s all a part of the same circle. It’s our own way of not forgetting. Not that that part is ever a struggle.
For F, K, P, L and for everybody else. I may not talk about this stuff much, but it’s not because I’m ashamed.