World Suicide Prevention Day

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. Today we bring attention to the silent illness, the hidden killer, the misguided ghosts. Today we hug our loved ones and remind them that they are loved, they do belong here, and that we would miss them greatly if they left. Today we remember the people we lost to depression, the people who felt so hopeless, so lost, that they decided there was no reason to live, because every day would just be another battle.
Mental illness is the war that no one wants to talk about. It's the elephant in the room. It's the murderer that no one can catch. Everyone is scared of it. Depression, anxiety, borderline, bipolar, PTSD, OCD, and many other mental ailments are frequently misunderstood. People veer around them like the homeless man on the street corner. He's dirty, he's worthless, he's a mystery, he's something that no one dares to approach.
This is the problem with mental illness. Everyone is too scared to talk about it. No one wants to tell their friends that last night they thought about taking a few handfuls of pills. No one wants to confess to their family that, every night, they cry themselves to sleep. Mental illness is treated like an idea rather than a serious thing. Teens who struggle with anxiety and depression are told that they'll get over it eventually. Adults who never got over it are told to suck it up, go see a doctor, get some pills, get some help, stop being so dramatic. Everyone tries to push away the problem that is mental illness. They won't touch it with a ten-foot pole. "Let the professionals handle it, there's nothing I can say that could help. One wrong word could send this person straight off the edge, right?"

Wrong.

There is no wrong word. There is only a lack of words.

If someone tells you that they have a mental illness, if they take the time and courage to open up to you about the demons in their head, they are trusting you to help them. They don't want to be shoved into a doctor's office or given the number of that therapist you know. They want you to TALK to them. They want to know that you will support them no matter what. They want to be treated like their pain matters. They want to know that they don't have to fight alone.

Mental illness is a war. Every day is a new battle. Sometimes, you win. Sometimes, you lose.
And some people lose the war entirely. They are sliced down by the blade of suicide.

Suicide is the other elephant, the other homeless man. No one wants to talk about it. No one wants to take it seriously. "He took his own life? He must be a coward."
It has nothing to do with fear, nothing to do with being lazy, nothing to do with being a coward.
Suicide is a gradual darkness that starts to spread through a person's brain, telling them that they don't need to live, showing them all the ways and all the reasons to die. It keeps spreading until the person finally succumbs, they finally lose control and they pick up their weapon of self-destruction.

They think that no one will notice or care when they're gone, but that is false.
Everyone notices, everyone cares.
Some people care more than others.
Some people make a joke of it, calling the dead a coward.
Some people treat it like a delicate flower, unsure if they should even approach it.
Some people break.
Some people break, then put themselves back together and become advocates for mental health.

The truth is, despite the pain of losing someone to suicide, it is not a subject that should be approached delicately as many people believe. You shouldn't shove it in anyone's face that so-and-so just died by suicide, but you shouldn't dance around it, either.
Too many people are too afraid to talk about suicide and mental illness, and that's why it stays in the dark.

Suicide and mental illness need to come into the light. That's the only way we can fight against the darkness.

So many people hide their mental illness because they don't want to be shunned, or babied. They hide their death wish because they don't want to be called crazy and sick, they don't want to scare people away.

I stayed quiet about my mental health for a long time. I didn't tell anyone when I started having panic attacks. I didn't say anything on the days when I felt like I had no soul. I didn't reach out for a long time. While I would have never actually taken my own life, the thought did occasionally cross my mind, but I never told anyone that. I just stayed quiet and kept smiling, just like I'd done my entire life. I felt this pressure to be happy all the time, because that's what everyone knew me to be. I was Smiley, I was the girl who was always laughing. How could I shatter that girl? How could I reveal the truth? Especially as a hormonal teenager whose emotions shouldn't be trusted.

When I finally did open up, it was slow. I started with my closest friend, and slowly worked from there. Telling my friends how I felt was easy, they understood.
Telling my parents was harder. I didn't say anything until late in my senior year, I was scared to tell them. I felt better once I did tell them, though. And they didn't baby me. They didn't immediately send me off to a doctor. They just reminded me that I am loved, and that I can always talk to them.

Now it's easier for me to talk about my mental health. I don't rub it in anyone's face. I don't just straight up say, "I have anxiety and depression!" It's something that I reveal once I get to know a person, once I feel that I can trust them and talk to them. And when I have a bad day, I always have someone I can talk to about it.

It's important to be open and honest about mental health.
It's important to LISTEN to someone when they're telling you about their mental health.
And it's important to speak up if you're worried about someone. If a friend or family member is acting odd, if they seem like they might need some extra TLC, talk to them. Let them know that you're there for them.

And don't dance around the topics of mental health and suicide. It's difficult to talk about, but it's something that has to be addressed.

Suicide is a tragedy, but if we can end the stigma of mental health and learn to open up, it's a tragedy that we can someday put an end to.

If any of my friends ever need someone to talk to, don't be afraid to message me!

You can also call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

The Energy of Linkin Park

I noticed something today while watching some Linkin Park live concert clips. Maybe others have noticed it, too, or maybe not, but I want to talk about.

All bands have an energy. That’s what makes rock music special, is the unique energy that it has - that pulsing red feeling of fury that makes you want to jump and scream and cry. Linkin Park is, of course, no exception. But their energy is special. The fanbase can feel that, because they’re part of what makes it special. Yes, every band has a fanbase, but does every fanbase feel as much like a family as the Linkin Park soldiers? Does every fanbase feel like they have a deep connection to the band and all of its members? Linkin Park is special because they’ve always included their fans in every experience, through pictures and videos and frequent documentation. 18 years of a million memories have given the soldiers a connection that is unique.

Alongside this is the connection of the band members themselves. Many bands that we know and love, like Metallica and Pearl Jam and Three Days Grace, have lost members, changed members, shifted and moved. Sometimes it was tragedy, sometimes it was just someone who lost their connection, who needed fresh energy.

Linkin Park never really had that before this past July. After Hybrid Theory was released, they started to really build their connections with each other, and over the following 17 years became the family that we know and love today. And they were a family. That could be seen clearly in all of those underground videos, during those live concerts. They were a band of brothers that would never be broken. They listened to each other, and they all had a special input for everything that was made. Each album defined a new layer of the band as they grew and developed. They were a family, and they opened their arms to their fans, “You’re family, too!”

Linkin Park’s energy is unique not just because of their sound, but also because of the pure love and devotion that goes into the music. Nothing is half-assed, nothing is done “just because”. Every song they make and share is a beautiful creation made with love and care. The energy is unique because the band is a family, and the fanbase is a family. It could be felt during live shows especially.

On July 20, that energy was abruptly disrupted. We, as a family, lost Chester. We lost our inspiration, our smile, our voice. Depression came and bit him hard, poisoning him, and this time he didn’t find an antidote, because the pain was just too great. 

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has said or will say that if I were somehow able to go back in time, somehow able to find him and talk to him, comfort him, I would. If I could talk him out of leaping into the darkness forever, I would.

By now most of us have seen the picture that his widow, Talinda, shared yesterday: a beautiful image of their family. The most prominent feature? Chester’s grin, the smile that we all know and love. Taken just days before his death, the picture shows just how well depression can hide. Previously, Talinda also started the tag #fuckdepression, encouraging fans to open up about their feelings and sending out words of comfort and love. She also started #MakeChesterProud, pushing fans to live every day to its fullest, because that’s what Chester would want them to do.

Depression tried to tear our family apart. It took Chris Cornell, which weakened Chester and allowed him to be taken, too. And now we’ve all been left behind, confused and heartbroken, waiting to wake up from this nightmare.

But the whole point of this long rant is that we are a FAMILY. The tag #LPonefamily has been used a lot over the past few weeks as fans send their love to the remaining five brothers, and the band has shown their gratitude for this recently with a video of different Chester memorials all around the world. This video really showed the love we all share as a fanbase, really shows how strong we are as Linkin Park soldiers, all together. We lost our shining star, but that does not mean the family is broken.

That energy I mentioned? It’s still here. Yes, it’s different. Very different. It’s turned an odd purple color as a sad blue seeps into the furious red. Every Linkin Park song we hear is now tainted with tears.

But there is still a special energy. The energy that makes Linkin Park and its soldiers more than just a band and a fanbase. The energy that makes us a family. And it’s this energy that keeps us strong, keeps us moving forward.

We are a family. Mike, Dave, Joe, Rob, Brad, and each one of the millions of fans - we are an unbreakable force. No matter what the future may hold for Linkin Park, this will never change.

Dear Chester Bennington

Dear Chester,

This letter, even though you will never see it, is a thank you letter.

When I saw the news today of your death, my world turned upside down. I was shaking, crying, barely able to breathe. I was so shocked to see your name in a headline alongside the words “Dead” and “Suicide”. I didn’t believe I for a while, because I’d also seen the article about your death being a hoax, but then I saw Mike’s tweet, and the news stories on NY Times and Washington Post, and I realized - it was true. My greatest inspiration was gone.

I can’t really pinpoint when you became such an inspiration to me. I started listening to Linkin Park when I was in seventh or eighth grade, after my mom put the Twilight soundtrack on my iPod shuffle and I heard Leave Out All the Rest. LOATR soon became my favorite song, and it still is six years later. I started listening to LP religiously after Living Things came out. I fell in love with the raw emotions of Meteora, and the clean energy of Living Things; the eager buzz of Hybrid Theory and the simple but true sound of Minutes to Midnight. A Thousand Suns completely blew my mind.

As I started to learn more about the band, I also learned more about you. I found out that you had a rough life growing up, struggling with sexual abuse as a kid, and drugs and alcohol as a teen and young adult. Depression tormented you your whole life. But you drew strength from those experiences, and became this amazing badass with a big heart who would do anything for his friends and family. You didn’t stop shows because of a broken arm, or cancel tours because a spider bit you in the ass, and even when you did have to end a tour because of a broken leg, you came right back as soon as you were able to give us the show we’d been waiting for.

You never failed to show your love for your fans, your family, or your fellow band members and musicians, and we all noticed and loved that.

I admired your dedication to the people around you, and how tough you always were, and how you stayed so strong and kept such a big smile on your face. Your amazing singing voice kept me going through the standard teenage angst phase that is high school.

For a long time, a huge dream of mine has been to see Linkin Park live, to see you and Mike and Brad and Phoenix and Rob and Joe on stage, playing all of my favorite songs. An even bigger but less likely dream was to actually meet you, hug you, and say, “Thank you.”

It breaks my heart to realize that now, that will never happen. You’re gone. Your beautiful voice can now only be heard in recordings, your grin now only seen in videos and photographs.

I still can’t fully believe that you’re gone.

And even though your death was one that seems to leave no hope, you still are and always will be an inspiration to me.

Thank you, Chester.

I know that you will never see this, but thank you.

Rock on forever,

 Sky

Died By, Not Committed.

No one "commits" suicide.

That's an outdated term.

People used to talk about suicide like it was a crime. Probably because it used to be. If someone attempted and survived, they were sentenced to an asylum where, in reality, their lives only got worse.

But suicide is not a crime. It's a tragedy, just the same as a murder or an accident. It's a cruel twist in life. The difference is that people still don't understand how someone could just...end their life.

November and December, 2016. A high school in Virginia reported two suicides in two month. One girl died just weeks after the first. They were good friends. And then they were gone.

I only knew one of them. Abby. A bubbly, bouncy, kind ray of sunshine, and a force to be reckoned with once a fencing foil was in her hands.She loved to play jokes, and make people laugh. She herself loved to laugh, and had a beautiful smile.

That was when I knew her. After I graduated, she was one of many friends left behind once I moved to New York. I still kept in touch with everyone I could, including Abby. But we only talked twice or thrice in the time between my graduation and her death. Neither of those times revealed any inner turmoil. The only clue I had was my best friend telling me that he was worried about her, especially after the first suicide. 

 Then, on a lonely December night, I got the news. A phone call from my friend. "Sky," he said. "Abby is dead."

 "No!" I exclaimed. "How?!"

 "How do you think?"

I stayed silent, not wanting to vocalize my fear.

"She killed herself, Sky. She's really gone."

He hung up soon after, as we'd been arguing earlier that day and the mood was still bad.

I sat on the couch of my dorm's living room, blankly staring at the TV.

I didn't cry immediately. I hated myself for that.

It wasn't until the show I'd been watching ended and I went into my room that I finally broke down.

In the days that followed, the mood surrounding me and all of my friends back home was low. Many of us had known Abby, whether as a friend or just a classmate. Two suicides in such a short time was hard for a school of over 2,000 teenagers to handle. And it was hard for me to handle losing a good friend. I suffered alone. I hadn't made many friends yet in school, and didn't really have anyone I wanted to turn to. Every day, I wished that I could talk to her, just one more time. 

Time does help with grief, though. I still kept moving forward, despite the tear in my heart. In March, I got a semicolon butterfly tattooed on my right wrist, in memory of Abby and as a reminder to myself as a recovering self harmer that someday, I'll fly, as long as I keep turning the pages, and don't destroy the words. 

 I'm sure you've heard the saying before: A suicide is like tossing a stone into a still pond. One moment, everything is perfect, but then we watch as the stone's impact tears that perfect image apart. And the ripples spread far.

A person does not commit suicide. They die by suicide. Something went wrong somewhere, and it kills them.

Maybe it was bullying. Maybe it was a chemical inbalance. Maybe it was grief. Maybe it was trauma. Maybe it was mental illness. Maybe, maybe, maybe, A million causes, but no matter what the cause, a suicide is not a crime. It is not something that a person commits, like a man may commit homicide.

A suicide is a tragedy. It leaves people behind who don't understand what has just happened, why it has just happened. It leaves confusion and grief as its aftermath. And sometimes, it just cannot be predicted. 

When talking about suicide, it would be more respectful to use the phrase "died by" rather than "committed". Suicide is a tragedy, and the victims deserve to have it be thought of and discussed as such. My friend Abby died by suicide, and I miss her every day. And in her memory, I have decided to stand tall and speak out about suicide and mental health.

To anyone who may be considering taking their own life, please reach out. There are people who love you and can help you, as hard as that may be to believe. All you have to do is SAY SOMETHING. That's it. And, of course, there's the National Suicide Hotline(1-800-273-8255). And to anyone who suspects that a loved one is considering suicide, please talk to them, and make sure they know that you care. 

Suicide is hard to talk about...but it needs to be addressed. The world has lost so many people to themselves. And I know that we can save them, or at least TRY.

"Who cares if one more light goes out in a sky of a million stars? It flickers... Who cares when someone's time runs out, if a moment is all we are, or quicker... Who cares if one more light goes out? Well, I do. " - Linkin Park