and a gray ribbon on her wrist
Facebook has once again claimed a “To Write Love on Her Arms” day. And while the original charity actually does some pretty cool stuff, and has some great information, I have come to HATE the “days” proclaimed on Facebook.
Why?
According to the TWLOHA website:
“Self-injury, like many addictions, is often a coping mechanism to deal with some manner of internal pain, many who struggle with it also struggle with other issues such as eating disorders and alcohol and drug abuse. While self-injury may be someone’s way to cope with or relieve painful or hard-to-express feelings and is generally NOT a suicide attempt, relief is always temporary, and usually only perpetuates a destructive cycle that continues the struggle. This cycle often means that those who do not get help can become more depressed and shameful, adding to the pain and need for relief, thus perpetuating the cycle.”
The fact that people think just writing “LOVE” on your arms somewhere is not going to actually make a difference. I don’t fucking care WHAT you write on your arms. If I want to cut myself, I will. I was actually (half) joking with my roommate about carving “LOVE” onto my arm with my knife and putting it up as my profile picture as a way of protesting.
I won’t. I’ll be good. Ish.
What really gets me is they always talk about the depression side of things, how writing love on one’s arms can help all the depressed people out there. First off, you’re missing the point. The idea of TWLOHA? Is the fact that they want to write LOVE instead of there being cuts. TWLOHA is a charity that supports the fight against self harm by donating to the many mental health programs that deal with the diseases that causes these urges.
Awareness is extremely important, but I’m not sure if the people doing this even know what’s going on, sometimes. This charity has received the endorsement of Hollywood poptarts such as Lindsay Lohan and Miley Cyrus. In my mind, at least, this speaks poorly for the charity because it’s suddenly become a trend. It puts me in mind of that “donate your hair to cancer!” thing that went around, which ended up being that the charity actually gave the hair to kids with a rarer disease (alopecia areata) but only about 10-20% of what was donated. The rest was thrown out (due to being in poor condition) or sold to wig makers for money to continue advertising, paying staff, covering manufacturing costs and such. Does this make the charity bad? Not at all. They’re doing exactly as they set out to do. However, public word of mouth twisted the story and then people turned around and called the charity liars when it was actually those “supporting” it who were misrepresenting it.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I want there to be awareness of mental health issues. Hell, why else would I write this blog for anyone to read? My concern is that people are going to go around writing words on their arm and thinking it’ll make some huge difference when it really won’t. Personally? I get insulted. I think “what the hell do you know about it?” I’ve lost friends over admittance of my scars/cutting. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I spend a stupid amount of money on bandaging for myself. Most of my bed sheets have the rather distinctively stripey bloodstains. (For the record? If you move a lot in your sleep, there is pretty much no way that I’ve found of bandaging so it’ll stay.)
My self injuring is the one thing I will always lie about to almost anyone who asks me in person. “What? This scratch? I caught myself on a shelf at work.” “Oh, you know cats…” “One of the tables at school.” “Yeah, I was playing with the rabbit.” “Oh, I don’t know, I must’ve caught myself on something.” “What? Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry.” Any of those sound familiar?
Tell you what, guys? If you insist on playing this silly game about writing love on your arms, at least actually READ the website of the organization. Know what you’re saying. Know who you’re saying it to. If you really want to make a difference? Find some local charities for mental health and donate or volunteer for them. Or, like I do, make sure people know they exist and that there IS help out there.
It took me three suicide attempts to try to get help the first time. After those people failed me, it took almost ten years to finally start getting the help I needed. Need. I’m not out of the lake yet.
For those who live in my area, here’s a couple of great places to start looking if you truly want to help those of us suffering from mental disorders:
Or just google “your area mental health” and see what comes up!