Persevere: a Bipolar Story of Hope

Trigger Warning: Suicidal Ideation

Junior high was a really difficult time. I never felt like I fit in. In junior high, I felt it most keenly. I was horribly depressed. Crying all the time. Spending most of my time in my room in the basement. The unfinished basement. I spent my time alone, reading, thinking, hurting.

One day, I took a safety pin and scratched the words HELP ME on the inside of my left wrist. I walked upstairs and showed my mom, wordlessly reaching out my arm so she could see. She went and got a band aid and put it on my wrist. Patted my back and told me she loved me. I stared at her, no tears. Then I went back downstairs.

Now, on the inside of my left wrist where I has scratched the words HELP ME is where I have the tattoo of my favorite word, Persevere. The tattoo I got after my first psych hospitalization.