I feel blessed to be part of the To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) Street Team. I get to read blogs, participate in discussions, do projects, and watch videos that a lot of people don't even realize are there. So, I want to share this video and discussion with you. If you would like to answer the questions in the comments, you are more than welcome to do so. I've learned that reaching out is one of the hardest things I've ever done; it's still hard. But let me encourage you - if you are struggling, reaching out is the absolute best thing you could ever do. You are not alone. You do not have to suffer in silence. You have a voice. A beautiful, marvelous voice that can be heard. Your story is important. You may not believe it right now, but it is.
I've bolded my own answers under the questions, and that will serve as my blog post today.
I've bolded my own answers under the questions, and that will serve as my blog post today.
Jamie Tworkowski: Founder of To Write Love On Her Arms. The Power of Few.
“The Power of Few.” Discussion Guide
Although the theme of TEDxUCSD was “The Power of One, the Power of Many,” our founder Jamie Tworkowski chose to talk about the importance of living a life where we let a few key characters into our stories.
Below are some discussion questions we’ve put together in hopes of sparking conversations in response to Jamie’s talk. We hope you’ll watch the video and then work through these—on your own, with your roommates, during a UChapter meeting, at your work retreat, in your living room. More than anything, we hope you are inspired to begin living your story with a few characters by your side.
1. “And you need to let somebody know you. You need to have a conversation over coffee or over a meal...You need to be honest with someone. You need to let somebody see your questions and your pain and your struggles.”
Who are you truly honest with? What keeps you from being honest about the difficult things in your life?
I have learned to be truly honest with myself, most importantly. Too many times would I just tell myself I was fine, tucking away the shame and guilt of feeling so depressed that I wanted to dig a hole in the backyard and bury myself in it; the shame of feeling like I was going crazy, because I struggle not only with simple depression, but bipolar disorder with severe depression and psychotic behavior (self-injury/self-harm). I am also completely honest with God, as if He doesn't know what I'm going through or thinking at any given moment, anyway. My faith is important to me and although not all people believe in the same things that I believe in, my core beliefs are a strong glue that holds me together. When I started being honest with other people about the difficult things in my life, it was challenging at first. Stigma attached to mental illness held me back quite a bit in the beginning, especially when I was officially diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2012. I was called crazy, too much to handle; I was told that I used my mental illness as an excuse to not have to cope with life and that I just needed to snap out of it. If only it were that easy. If only I could just pull myself together and not feel my feelings, and not think my thoughts. If only. Then I realized I wasn't alone and that it was actually quite "normal" to NOT be able to snap out of it. That's why they call it an illness. An invisible illness, at that. I'd been familiar with To Write Love On Her Arms way before my official diagnosis. I believe I first heard of TWLOHA in 2008, when I started my road to recovery out of drug addiction and was dealing with self-injuring behaviors then. Let me tell you, struggling with those feelings and everything else going on in your mind and not knowing WHY yet is pure torture. It brings a whole knew meaning to feeling crazy. This organization, after researching and learning what it was all about, hearing the stories, seeing all of the people that struggle with the same things I do, began to pull me out of a shell I didn't even know I was in. There were other people who got so enraged on the inside that the only relief they could get was by creating pain on the outside? Yes. I was no longer standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming among deaf ears. Now, I am able to share honestly with anyone and everyone I come across. I began openly sharing in groups through a 12-step program called Celebrate Recovery and have given my full testimony twice. I will be giving it again in 2015, in front of at least 5 times the number of people I'm accustomed to speaking to. I run this blog, as well as have a page on Facebook called Ramblings of a Bipolar Sober Chick, and I can honestly say that I am an open book. There is no longer anything that keeps me from being honest.
What steps can you take to begin to be honest?
Although I, myself, have learned to be honest, my biggest point of advice to those who haven't been able to do so (and believe me, I totally understand how hard it is when we risk ridicule and facing a judgmental world, where some do not even try to understand depression or any of its counterparts, or view it as a real illness), is to reach out. I realize I am repeating myself, but it's so important. Find someone you know is struggling with something similar and just talk. You don't have to dive right in and say, "hey, let's talk about depression today," but just talk about how you are doing and what you are feeling. You might be surprised at what you end up having in common with someone. Talking to others has a power behind it. It makes you stronger without you initially realizing it. As you grow stronger, the more you are able to be honest. The more honest you are, the more you realize that maybe, just maybe, you might be able to give that guilt and shame a good swift kick in the butt, and it is there that you experience true freedom.
2. When Kevin Durant gave his MVP acceptance speech, he took the stage along with his entire team. It was as if he was saying, “This is my story. This is my real story. Not the impressive one, not the public one. This isn’t just about me. These are the people - these are the characters in my story.”
Who are the characters in your story? Who would you thank in your MVP speech?
The characters in my story are definitely my mom, my children, and many friends in Celebrate Recovery, as well as other close friends, old and new.
I would thank my mom, because even though she wasn't there for me much growing up, she took a very bold step and straightened her life up 4 years ago, getting clean and strong, and becoming the mother I'd been waiting for, for 36 years. Thank you, mom, for caring about yourself enough to leap boldly into the unknown future and coming out like a champion, beautiful and radiant. Thank you for, even in your darkest hours, somehow showing me who Jesus is so that I could grow close to Him. Thank you for becoming someone that I love to talk to, being someone that I miss dearly because we are now so far apart, and for the shoulder I know I can cry on if I need to. Thank you, mom, for becoming the mother I know I can count on through thick and thin, who will always stand beside me and support me no matter what is going on in either one of our lives.
I would thank my children for forgiving me for the mistakes I have made as a mother. Thank you, my 21-year-old son, for showing me what boundaries look like. Thank you, my 18-year-old daughter, for showing me what grace and determination look like. Thank you, my 17-year-old daughter, for showing me what beauty and strength look like. Thank you, my 14-year-old son, for showing me what joy and devotion look like at such a young age.
I would thank my closest friends in Celebrate Recovery, those that I've gone through the 12 steps with and those who are in my small group who practically know every single thing about me and my life, for always holding me accountable when I seem like I'm slipping away; for not letting me completely isolate myself on weeks when I've wanted to the most; for always making sure that I'm doing okay, but at the same time giving me honest space when I truly need it.
I would thank my other friends, some of whom I've known much of my life, yet never had a clue as to what really went on behind closed doors until a few years ago when I began talking about who I really was. Thank you for not running away. Thank you for saying the words I love you when I desperately need to hear them. Thank you for being my voice during times when I felt like I had no voice of my own.
3. “Every good story has a few characters that are trying to figure something out, that are trying to journey through something, work through something, overcome something.”
What does your story look like right now? What are you trying to journey through or overcome?
My story; right now my story feels like complete and utter chaos, honestly. I can probably attribute much of that to bipolar disorder, itself, but there are many circumstantial factors that contribute, as well. I recently overcame homelessness after a really unexpected rough patch hit me in May of 2014. I was in the hospital with a heart condition, as well as stabilizing my bipolar disorder, when I received a text from my then-fiance telling me never to come home again. I won't go into details about the reasoning he had for his decision to do this, because it isn't appropriate for this question. Hearsay never belongs in a personal answer. I will say that he was a recovering alcoholic that began drinking again, and combine that with anger issues, and it painted a very nasty picture that took its time developing over a 3-year period. Regardless of his reasons, it was the worst way to find out I had no home anymore, and even worse to know that I was leaving a hospital jobless, car-less, and homeless. My high school best friend lent me her floor by her front door for 5 months, while I acquired a job and began working, doing the best I could to work toward building my own life again. As of the middle of September of 2014, I have been living in a very small room in an extended-stay hotel. I call it my apartment, because to me, that's what it is. I'm living on my own and accomplishing what I was sincerely afraid I would never be able to do by myself again, even though I've been on my own for years before. My bipolar disorder had been very crippling the last couple of years, as doctors tried to find a proper and working regimen of medication for me, and other circumstances of life did not help the crippling at all. I'm struggling with illness again, and need such things as a lymph node biopsy done and ongoing medical care, and because I am uninsured I have to pay everything out of pocket. I barely make it financially from one week to the next, as I pay for my room by the week, but I'm still here and I'm still doing it, pain and all. When I say pain, I mean both physically and emotionally.
I am trying to overcome the heartbreak of losing someone that I still love from the deepest parts of me, but I have to keep reminding myself that I cannot fix him. He has to fix himself. He has to learn to love himself before he can truly love anyone else. He has to treat his body with respect if he is to ever honestly treat anyone else with genuine respect, and not just because he thinks he is a "good person," in general.
I am trying to overcome severe financial strain and keeping a roof over my head, while trying to get various medical diagnoses handled, with the possibility of cancer clouding my vision.
I am trying to overcome depression setting in, like a raging storm just beyond the eye of a hurricane. I am trying to overcome fleeting thoughts of hurting myself, knowing it will only be temporary relief or gratification if I were to do so. Hurting myself on the outside while trying to kill the thing on the inside. I am trying to overcome the feeling of wanting to throw everything in this small room out of my third floor window.
I am trying to overcome the physical pain and push myself through it, so I can sit in this chair and work, since I work from home and sit 8 hours straight. I am trying to overcome the aspects of bipolar disorder that distract me at least 75% of time while I am trying to work, making it difficult to earn a living where I get paid by production and not by the hour.
I am trying to overcome massive loads of fear of the unknown.
4. “It’s our belief that you deserve that; you deserve some other people who step in and remind you that your story is not only worth living but worth fighting for.”
Why is your story worth living? Who helps you fight for your story?
What has made my story worth living is the simple fact that I have helped others. Every experience I have had or situation I have had to go through, from childhood sexual abuse, to drug addiction, to emotional and physical abuse as an adult, to bipolar disorder, all the way to trying to take my own life - I have met at least one person from each struggle I've had that is going through the same thing, or has gone through it, and they need someone who understands. Many times much more than one person. They need to know they are not alone. They need to hear my story and say, "Wow. I thought I was the only person who did that exact same thing." or "I never realized anyone else had gone through that before." Hearing, "you are an inspiration" or "your story has helped me so much" is enough. It's just enough to make it all worth living for. Do I still feel like giving up sometimes? Of course. Illness doesn't leave us alone forever just because we feel like we are standing on top of a mountain for a while. I have a handful of friends who truly step in to fight for my story. The members that have accumulated on my personal blog/support page that I created are amazing people, and we all fight for each other's stories. I believe that TWLOHA helps fight for my story by constantly reminding me that it is important. God definitely fights for my story.
5. “We believe there’s such a need for people who remind us that we deserve to be loved, we deserve to be healthy, we deserve whatever help we need. I hope you have that.”
What do you deserve? What can you do to get that?
I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be cared for. I deserve to be treated with respect. I deserve to be viewed as a human being and not as a waste of space who only finds anything and everything to cry about. I deserve to be treated like any other person who has an illness that CAN be seen. I deserve loyalty. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to thrive and not just survive this life. I deserve to be told that I'm worth the fight. I deserve a chance to show the world that I am somebody. I deserve to be reminded that I am beautiful.
To get these things, I will continue being here for other people, and I will continue being who I am. Who I am should be enough.
What do the people in your life deserve? How will you help to remind them?
The people in my life deserve the same things that I deserve. I will always remind others that they are worth so much more than any mistakes they've made or any name they've been called, or any illness they struggle with, mental or physical. I will remind others that I love them, as I can only speak for myself. I will remind others that they deserve peace, grace, and happiness in this life, and most importantly I will remind them that their story is important.
