Thank You for ignoring the doctors when they told you to stop trying to have kids. 

Comments (3) | Posted in General by jamie tworkowski

Today, we are saying goodbye to our Spring Interns. It's hard not to fall in love with a group of people that makes their Intern Director laugh so hard that she cries on just their third week in the office. From beginning the term with Heavy & Light to the elephant ears fiasco to seeing The Hunger Games at midnight in the second row at the theater, your term has been quite the adventure.

Krista, Hannah, Caitlin, and Savannah -- you have contributed so much to TWLOHA while you've been here. We have seen growth in UChapters, The Storytellers, and Here We Collide. You've answered hundreds of messages, sending hope to our supporters with each one. Thank you for sharing your time, hearts, and baked goods with us, and thank you for allowing us to be a part of your story.

--Emmi

Comments (2) | Posted in General by Emmi Scott

I was born into a legacy of bitterness.

One side of my family consists of a long line of women whose lives haven’t turned out quite as they had imagined. They might not say it outright, but they are angry, and they have been angry for a long time. They have been left by more men than they can count; fathers, husbands, and lovers have walked out of their lives without looking back, but not before doing some deep damage. They can’t seem to forget, and those memories have decayed into a sense of bitterness, which makes itself known through criticism, gossip, and broken relationships.

It’s exactly the kind of legacy no one wants to inherit.

I wondered for a long time if this legacy was mine to inherit too, just like the women before me had inherited it from their mothers and grandmothers. Never mind that I have an amazing father who chose to stay and to fight for me through the most difficult years of my life. Never mind that I am not prone to heartbreak. When a trait runs that strongly in your genes, it’s hard not to wonder if you will have it too, like blue eyes or a long nose. It begins to seem inevitable.

But then, that thing happened, the thing that threatened to give me my own list of “if only’s,” the event that threatened to toss me into a pit of bitterness without a means to climb back out. And in the brokenness, anger, and heartache that followed, I somehow decided that I didn’t want any part in this legacy of bitterness.

I chose to disinherit myself.

I chose to forgive.

Putting this decision into action hasn’t been the simplest thing I’ve ever done. Sometimes when your heart is smashed into a million pieces, you have to dig pretty deep to collect all of them again, and along the way, anger and bitterness and resentment rear their ugly heads and try to convince you that it will be easier to just give in to them.

And sometimes, that’s a pretty tempting idea.

Those are the days when you have to take a deep breath and choose, again, the path to forgiveness. And if that’s not enough, those are the days when you find someone who will help you want forgiveness, and you sit with them and cry about how unfair it all is until you settle down and realize that what you’re doing feels terrible and the forgiveness thing is just a better idea anyway.

And after enough days, and maybe months, of deciding again and again to forgive, it suddenly becomes easy. And you’re finally not angry any longer.

Here’s the thing: harboring bitterness against someone else ultimately doesn’t affect them very much. But it could destroy you. That bitterness will seep into your thoughts, words, and actions, and it will affect your relationships with the people you love. So, forgive—if not for them, then for you.

In the end, no matter how your plans turn out, no matter how others treat you, you get to choose what your life looks like. I’m choosing fullness, joy, and forgiveness.

It’s a legacy that I hope will live on for many, many years.

Comments (15) | Posted in General, Journal by Emmi Scott

Despite being the Benefit Coordinator, 90% of the time I never meet people who plan benefits for TWLOHA. But sometimes I do. As I stepped off the plane at Cincinnati Airport (which is in Kentucky, I discovered), I was very excited for the chance to visit 2 new states, our fall intern Lindsey who helped with the event, and also for the rare opportunity to meet the benefit organizers of Fashion for the Cure.

Fashion for the Cure is an annual fashion show at a high school in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was in its sixth year of existence, but this year is the first time it benefited  TWLOHA along with the local chapter of American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

I first got an email from Tricia, one of the co-organizers, way back in July 2011 and was immediately blown away by the level of advance planning and her attention to detail. After corresponding with their advisor quite a few times, we set the plan for my arrival. Months later, the day was finally here.

We arrived at the school around 3p.m., giving us 3 hours of set up time before the doors opened. The raffles were set up, decorations were hung, and there was a nervous but good energy throughout the room and the planning team. I noticed the banners -- quotes from our vision, displayed for all to see. “The vision is hope, and hope is real.” I was inspired by how clearly these girls and the parent volunteers embodied that message. They were fighting to spread hope and to break the silence that surrounded suicide at their school.

Standing in the room setting up our table, I was struck by the memory of the first experience that set me on the path that led me to this moment. Haley and Tricia reminded me of me -- when I was in high school, I was on the executive team for planning a similar benefit to spread hope in a different way.

Almost exactly 5 years later, I still clearly remember setting up for that event, all the hours upon hours of time that went into preparations and details. At 17, I had the privilege of sharing a positive message with my community, and now I had the experience of watching a new generation of high school seniors do the same. There are a lot of people who don’t take high school students seriously, but I can tell you first-hand that Fashion for the Cure is just one example of the many, many wonderful events I’ve seen planned primarily by high school students. I am impressed every single time.

There were over 500 people at Fashion for the Cure that night. It was by far the largest and most profitable benefit ever hosted for TWLOHA, raising more than $25,000 in just one night, half going to TWLOHA and the other half to AFSP. Regardless of the numbers, the thing I was most impressed with was the speech given by one of the students.

He just got up on stage in front of all those people and told his story, honest and true. He had struggled with suicide and many other things, he said, eventually spending six months in an in-patient treatment facility. He was fortunate, he noted, to have had the support of his parents, counselors, and friends; not everyone is that lucky, he told us, which is why it was important to talk about these issues and let people know that hope and help are real. Nothing I said that night, nothing the AFSP psychiatrist said, could have possibly been more powerful and important than what this young guy in high school said. I didn’t get the chance to meet him, but I am truly privileged to have been in that room and heard his words.

Supporter hosted benefits like Fashion for the Cure financially support the other programs of TWLOHA, while also bringing awareness to communities throughout the country and throughout the world. They’ve taken the shape of fashion shows, concerts, art exhibits, 5K Walk/Runs, penny drives, friendship bracelet sales, bake sales, and more. I’ve had the honor of working with more than 117 organizers and their benefits since I started at TWLOHA part-time just over a year ago, with another 20 or so in the works right now.

Every day I hear the most amazing stories of why people have chosen to begin to fundraise for us and why it’s important to them that the message of hope reach their community. If you’re thinking about hosting a benefit for TWLOHA, or want more information, I’d love to hear from you, too! Please email benefit@twloha.com, and tell me what you're thinking, how you want to bring our story to your community. We list all events on our Events to Benefit TWLOHA page on Facebook -- come “like” us to find out about upcoming benefits in your area!

Five years ago, running around organizing my own fundraiser as a high school student, I never thought that one event would bring my heart so close to fundraising and event planning that it became my job. Consider hosting a benefit and maybe you’ll surprise yourself, too.

With Love,
Danielle

Comments (2) | Posted in General, Journal by Danielle Cantarella

Depression is a fickle foe. Just when you think you are past your struggle, it can pull you back down harder and faster than it did the first time. But there is hope. There is always hope. It comes in the form of people around you, professional help, and sometimes even the encouragement of strangers.

Last October, we posted a blog about Hyperbole and a Half creator Allie Brosh and her post "Adventures in Depression," where she takes readers along her struggle with depression that seemed to come out of nowhere for her. Pairing hilarious illustrations with her struggle, she amusingly and truthfully tells what it was like for her to experience this sudden feeling of self-hate. At the end of her post, you could be left thinking all is better and that she was back to her daily routine.

But.

"Adventures in Depression" still remains to be Allie's most recent update on the site, which has left many fans and supporters wondering where she has been and how she was doing. The question was posted on Reddit.com three weeks ago, and after five months of online silence, Allie gave an update. The ending of "Adventures in Depression" wasn't the end of her struggle with depression. In her post on Reddit, Allie shares about the place she was during the time of that post, the good and bad days, seeking help, finding support from the people in her life, and even an appreciation to everyone who has shared kind words, their stories, and any bit of encouragement they could give.

Perhaps the most telling piece of her journey was when she finally realized she didn't have to fight her battle alone. Allie came to a place where she decided she needed to talk to someone. Or a few someones. That's my hope for anyone who is struggling with depression or any of the issues we talk about. You are allowed to feel the way you feel, and you are allowed to get help.

All the best,
Chris

Comments (0) | Posted in General by Chris Youngblood

“Are you . . . sad?” Michael asked, confused.

We were on our way to go trout fishing on the banks of the Little River in Floyd, Virginia. It was a cold day in November in 2003, and I was driving my old Volvo, heat turned up high. The windshield had begun to fog over, and Michael searched my car for a napkin to wipe the condensation from the inside. As he opened up my glove box, my anti-depressants slipped from their hiding place and fell into his lap. Even though the car was comfortably warm and I was wearing my heavy jacket, a chill ran up my spine.

Michael was my boyfriend and had been for a while. He lived across the hall from me, and we met in the laundry room one night when he offered me a quarter when I found myself short. I knew him like the back of my hand, and he knew me better than I knew myself at times.

I trusted Michael with my life.

It was fair for him to be confused. His seemingly happy girlfriend was hiding anti-depressants in her car and made a daily trek to the lower parking lot to treat her depression. I had never told him about my struggles with depression and anxiety. I didn’t tell him that at one time in my life I had intentionally hurt myself and that I hadn't wanted to live anymore. I refused to let him see me as broken. I feared what would happen if he ever found out. Would he be angry? Embarrassed? Mean? Would he walk away from the relationship we built? I felt guilty for being so sad when he made me so happy. I felt ashamed of the thoughts that plagued my mind day in and out. My heart hurt to think of how my pain could somehow hurt him. I felt so alone.

That day I allowed myself to open up to Michael in a way I never had before. We pulled off the road, and as we fished, he asked me questions, and I was honest with him. I let the walls that I had so carefully crafted over the years crumble and fall around me. Michael didn’t understand my struggles personally, but he supported me in a way I never expected. He still loved me and cared for me, and he let me know that he was there for me.  That I wasn’t alone. I had found an ally to be my support in a time that was very dark. I was a sophomore at Radford University and searching for someone to understand.

My story is not unique. 10% of college students have been diagnosed with depression, the majority of which never seek treatment. There are so many others who go undiagnosed and struggle in a dark silence. 1,100 college students die by suicide every year, and 1 in 12 have created a suicide plan. Chances are, at least 2 people in your English 101 class are struggling with a mental health issue, if not more. Perhaps they are also looking for someone to understand.

I have been working with University Chapters since I started with TWLOHA in September 2009. I came in as an intern as the program launched its first 15 chapters. I watched as light began to spread across these college campuses. People were beginning to talk about mental health. Students began to come clean about their struggles. Communities of hope and support were formed on campuses across the country. Suddenly, those who were hurting weren’t so alone anymore.

And as the years have passed, I have watched 72 chapters launch, all along the east coast, into the Midwest, onto the west coast, and into Canada. We even started our first international chapter in New Zealand as a test to see how far this program can extend. Each of our student leaders is passionate, dedicated, and engaged in the program. I’m humbled every day by their willingness to be vulnerable on their campus. To start a conversation about topics that were once deeply hidden, and in some cases still are. They are touching thousands of lives.



That’s why I am excited to announce our first ever TWLOHA University Chapters Summer Conference. This conference will combine our two-day MOVE Community Conference with a two-day leadership training workshop designed to educate and inspire our leaders providing them with new resources, an opportunity to collaborate and network with other chapter leaders, and a chance to work one-on-one with TWLOHA staff. We’re also extending an invitation to student leaders interested in forming a chapter on their campus to join us for this event to ensure they are fully equipped and ready to launch their own chapter. Our hope is to continue the conversation that has been started, to allow our leaders to touch even more lives and to squelch the stigmas associated with mental health on college campuses.

To learn more about the TWLOHA University Chapters Summer Conference 2012, please click here. Please be sure to read all of the information before registering for the event. Space is limited, so we have had to tightly control who is able to attend. Our hope is to see this conference become a strong resource for our chapters and allow it to grow to a larger space for next year to allow more chapter members to attend.

This is the next big step for this program, and we couldn’t be more excited. We truly appreciate all of the support our chapters have given us over the last two and a half years and are inspired to keep growing the program.

My personal hope for the program and the conference is that no one else has to struggle in silence. That no one else has to hide their pain in the glove box of their car.

--Holly

Comments (4) | Posted in General by Holly Hallum

From Johnny Cash to Coldplay to Jon Foreman, TWLOHA founder Jamie Tworkowski reflects on the surprising birth of the TWLOHA t-shirt.

Comments (16) | Posted in General by jamie tworkowski

I remember the day the phone rang.

I was in a loud restaurant eating lunch with my friend Kelly. We were visiting a friend. Life was simple then. I was just home for the summer, working and saving money so I could head back to Florida State University for the fall term.

It was my friend Ashley on the other line.

She asked what I was doing. I responded, and she said that I should just call her back when I got home. However, I knew something was wrong. I’ve had one too many conversations with her to know when she was covering something up. I pushed her for about a minute to just tell me, and then, in an instant, everything changed. 

“Josh is dead,” she said. “Josh is dead.”

She held strong for the first three words, but her voice cracked and faded when she repeated herself. A life of feeling indestructible had been ripped from me. I sat there silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to react. There are no rehearsals for these types of conversations. I remember thinking it couldn’t be true, that there must be some mistake, and thought to myself how could this happen. But none of these thoughts seemed to make it out of my mouth. I could hear Ashley crying on the other end of the phone. Josh was her ex-boyfriend and one of my best friends. 

Josh had moved to Sarasota a few years prior to live with his mom after life with his dad in our hometown became too difficult. With his dad, there were fights and drugs and jail time. I didn’t know how to handle any of this. My parents were happily married, and the idea of drugs and jail time was foreign to me.

I didn’t know what to do, but I did what I could.

My mom and I did his laundry. Lindsay and I picked him up for school. We talked about the future and how someday this would all fade, how life for Josh would get easier. We talked about marriage and children and our dreams. He was probably considered as part of the “bad crowd” at school, but I didn’t care. He never tempted me to do anything wrong, and he would do anything for me. 

Over time, he made the decision to live with his mom again. It was a tearful goodbye outside of his dad’s house. Josh didn’t have a car so the chances of “See you soon” were slim to none. We kept in touch, but we didn’t email or text. Josh liked to write handwritten letters and draw pictures. I saved them all because the pictures were so funny -- not because I thought someday soon they would be put into a memorial box. 

Not long before Josh passed away, he called Ashley. He told her life in Sarasota wasn’t working out. He said he was spiraling out of control, using and needed to come back and live with his Dad. Three weeks later, Josh died of a drug overdose. This thought haunts me to this day. 

On the phone, my silence turned to tears and then quickly turned to anger. He knew deep down he didn’t want to live the way he was living. We watched him live it.  We were good influences but only in certain moments. I wished instantly he had moved home the weekend he said he wanted to. I wished that I had done more. I knew what he was doing was destructive to himself. I was “there for him,” but I didn’t do anything more than that. He battled the demons of his childhood and shared a one-bedroom house with his alcoholic father for years. The house reeked of mold and pot, and yet some of the best conversations I ever had were there. The scary thing is that this scenario was healthier than the one he faced while living with his mom. 

I write all this to tell you that I would give anything to change the past, to have one more conversation, one more day with Josh. This won’t ever happen. And you may not know Josh, but I do know this:  there is a big chance you know a Josh. Maybe you are Josh. Either way, you are breathing, living, reading these words, reflecting on the life that led you here.

This life may bring you more pain than you know what to do with. Sometimes it might include carrying the pain of others. No matter what it looks like, use your voice. Speak up and out. Do you need help? Is there someone who needs your help? Whether it’s a push to get out of bed today, an encouragement to say no to those voices, or enough drive to reach out to someone, I hope you will. I hope you will fight. For them and for yourself.

You are part of this life for a reason. Your reason may look different than mine, but we are important. You are important. Never let yourself forget it.

--Jessica

Comments (26) | Posted in General, Journal by Jessica Haley

Comments (48) | Posted in General by jamie tworkowski

The first TWLOHA shirt was worn on March 30, 2006. My friend Jon Foreman sings in the band Switchfoot and he wore it on stage at a Switchfoot concert at Florida Atlantic University.

Back then, it was simply an attempt to help a friend and tell a story. i wondered if we could sell some t-shirts to help pay for Renee's treatment, and i wondered if people might be encouraged and challenged by her story. There were no thoughts of a charity or a movement or a movie. We didn't have a booth set up at the concert. We didn't have information to give people, but people found their way to the MySpace page - it was 2006 and people were excited about MySpace. People read the story there. People left comments and sent messages, asking for help and how to help friends.

All of it became a bigger thing, and the t-shirts had so much to do with that. Suddenly, it was about more than simply raising money. It was about questions and conversations, giving people the chance to tell their story and trying to help people believe that their story mattered.

We have heard incredible stories of moments sparked by the question, "What does your shirt mean?" or "Why do you wear that?" or "Is that a band?" And the thing we love about those moments was not so much that you got to tell our story. We love that you got to tell your story. We loved that it was a chance to be brave and break the silence, to talk about things people don't talk about.

In honor of sharing stories, we created a series of short interviews asking why people wear TWLOHA. We'll be sharing new videos over the next couple of weeks, but we want to hear from you as well. What is your hope when you walk out of your door wearing a shirt or a bracelet? We want to know why you wear TWLOHA. You can tell us by uploading your own video or using the #wearTWLOHA hashtag on Twitter. This will lead up to March 30 when you're invited to wear a TWLOHA shirt and join us in celebrating six years of stories.



We celebrate people still fighting for their stories. We celebrate people choosing to stay alive and people choosing not to live alone. We know that some people wear TWLOHA in honor of someone they loved and lost. We join you in remembering, and we say you're not alone in your pain. 

Life is many things. Pain and hope and fears and dreams. On March 30, we pause to remember where we came from and to smile at where we're going. And to say once again, that we do not go alone, for people need other people.

If you wear the shirt and someone asks about it, we hope it's a chance to tell them our story. But we hope even more that it's a chance to tell them yours. And maybe that leads to a moment where they begin to tell you theirs, or maybe just a moment to believe that theirs does matter.

Thank You for caring about people.
Thank You for wearing TWLOHA.
We're all in this together.

Peace to You.
jamie

PS: We also celebrate our friend Renee Yohe and invite you to support her dream of doing music professionally. All of this started with Renee's story, and we celebrate the fact that it's a story still going. We invite you to support Renee's band Bearcat.

Comments (38) | Posted in General, Merch by jamie tworkowski