Any eight-year-old child would take a mild interest, a black-and-white speckled composition notebook, their mother's colorful pens, and turn it into something fun. Some twelve-year-old's would take that same interest, years later, and turn it into an act of survival.
inkwells. is the product of the worst mental health relapse of my life, which was caused largely in part to the fact that I'd been doing extraordinarily well in ignoring and neglecting my symptoms when my body and mind were clearly warring, and I opted to remain the nonchalant referee.
For people both battling and not battling with mental health disorders of any degree, there is specific subject matter and blunt language used at frequent intervals throughout my work—poetry and novels alike—which may appear disturbing, as my work centralizes around mental health, self-harm, and thoughts of suicide. My work originated as a personal chronicling of what I quietly endured for several years before admitting I needed help—I wrote because I refused to speak. Because of this, my work remains to be an accumulation of the authentic and realistic notions which I created as a sort of self-medication to abstain from the self-destructive urges I was experiencing.
Under no circumstances should any reader compromise their mental health to analyze or endure mine, though I do believe that I might be that little, tiny voice possible of saving a life. Even just one. One is enough.
Taking your own life is a choice. From someone who has spent years contemplating suicide, I would like to say that a loved one committing suicide typically has nothing to do with you. Nothing. Even with all the support I had around me and all the privileges I've been blessed with, I still wanted to die—and sometimes still do. I would still look at my skin and want to cut it off with scissors. I still wanted to starve to death. And it had nothing to do with anybody else. True, consistent support does absolutely benefit someone struggling with mental or physical health—or anything in general—but suicide is still a choice. No one can make you kill yourself. Even if you are pressured into it somehow, it still comes down to you to do it. If you are powerless in every other area in your life, you still have the power to take your life. And you have the power to keep it. You have the power to stay.
Staying, in itself, is so powerful; however, that does not make leaving cowardly or shameful. It is just a choice. I wish I knew all the answers: If some people are meant to commit suicide, if there's some magical remedy we're all overlooking. But I don't know. What I do know is that if you are harboring guilt over a loved one's suicide, it is not guilt that belongs to you. It does you no good. And if you yourself are contemplating suicide, while it is not something to be ashamed of, I want you to stay. It is quite a curious life we've yet to live together. Wouldn't you rather live it in person than see it from the sky?
I wish everyone all the best during their mental health journeys, and I remind you all confidently and honestly that recovery is possible. Please stick around to see it.
Be safe and well,
Author, Activist, Founder
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 / 988
National Mental Illness Hotline: 1-800-950-6264
Dating Abuse and Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-866-331-9474
Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
National Eating Disorder Hotline: 1-800-931-2237
Bullying Hotline: 1-800-420-1479
Transgender Suicide Hotline: 877-565-8860
The Trevor Project (suicide hotline for LGBTQIA+ youths): 866-488-7386
Self-Harm Hotline: 1-800-DONT-CUT / 1-800-344-HELP
Runaway Hotline: 1-800-843-5200 / 1-800-843-5678
Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
General Crisis Text Line: Text SUPPORT to 741-741
Abuse Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 / 1-800-787-3224
Addiction Hotline: 800-910-3734
Exhale (post-abortion hotline/pro-voice): 1-866-439-4235
Poison Control: 1-800-222-1222