Post by The Black Band Campaign on Jun 1, 2011 14:04:18 GMT -5
THE BLACK BAND CAMPAIGN:
The story of a broken night and a broken girl:
Walking alone beneath the lighs of the star filled sky I’ve realized that I lived a full life. In retrospect of my 17 years I’ve done more than those who live longer.
I was told by an artistic friend of mine once that our story will be told when it is ready. I put great faith in Stacy the Artist. She is smart. One night, she invited me to talk to her. She’s the beautiful type; smart, gorgeous, tan, slim, artistic- that’s why I’ve called her Stacy the Artist. I admired her for this, but most of all for her story. Her’s is one of triumph. Making it known, she said, is the easy part. Knowing when to make it known is what’s hard.
“You have suffered enough and what with yourself. It's time that you won. Take this sinking boat and point it home, we’ve still got time, raise your hopeful voice you had the choice, you've made it now”-the frames
I went home from this trip different; not necessarily changed, but different. It would be one year before I would meet Leslie, two years that I met Sarah and Hayley.
Leslie was crazy. Her thoughts and theories always had a way of leaving me in hysterics, but I never understood what was eating at her. We talked one day after I sent her the link to the TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS myspace about self-infliction. It was then that she told me that she too had suffered. It was a crazy idea to me; she was amazing… how could this happen. At that point I wanted to catch the first plane out to California and just give her the biggest hug ever. It was so foreign to me, even though I had suffered through it too.
Not too long after that we started talking again, about Sarah and Hayley and my relationship with them. It was then that I realized that this is a constant battle which all of will face.
ROTC has been a weird part of my life. Excelling through the ranks, I made a high school career out of it, being the commander of the school’s battalion, but it made something else out of me.
I’ve always been big on acceptance, wanting everyone to be loved. Sarah and Hayley came into my life like a whirlwind, taking me by surprise.
I sat on the balcony in silence, listening to her speak to me about why she hurt herself. It was a hard story to endure but one that I knew all too well. I had heard it a lot. My friends struggled a lot too. We are all broken. I talked with her for hours, letting her know that she was loved. This was not new at all either. For the past three years I have taken in broken girls and talked with them. I already had one friend, Lydia, who I was working with to pull her out of this, but Sarah was different.
Sarah I knew. Her story was one that I heard a lot; taking a blade across her arm, writing words against herself, against her soul. There was something different about her though. She had hope in her. I prayed for her as I listened, begging God to make it stop, to give her an outlet that would glorify him. I prayed over her again, asking his love to rush over her.
Before we slept that night I asked her to take these bracelets, to wear them in honor of us. It is a bond now. This is how the deal goes: she will remember this, wearing these on her right arm 24/7, and remember that we are never alone.
We are not alone. There is more to this we know. We can make it out. We will live to tell.
This was an interesting night for sure, Sarah and I talking on my balcony as Hayley slept, but there was more to the story than I ever could have guessed. Hayley herself was in on this too. I understood their pain, having been there myself. I had no clue, no idea what kind of impact I was forming with these bracelets.
When we returned from camp, I was taken back by the idea that Hayley was hurting as well. It didn’t seem possible to me: she was so stong and had it all together. Still enough, even with Hayley and Sarah being as strong as they were, they were still hurting. Pain doesn’t say ‘oh you’re strong… I don’t need to get you’. No. Pain finds strength and targets it. We have made a deal, Sarah, Lydia, Hayley, Leslie, and I. We are all in this together. We all have so much promise, let’s not throw it away. The deal goes as this: we will remember. We will spread the word. We will offer hope, but most importantly, we will love. We are not alone. There is more to this we know. We can make it out. We will live to tell.
I was asked after forming this movement who was the broken one in this story. They asked if it was Sarah or Hayley. The truth of the matter is that we are all broken...
"Cause we are broken. What must we do to restore Our innocence? And all the promise we adored.. Give us life again cause we just wanna be whole"- Paramore
Sarah thanked me as we were talking, thanking me for being there for her and all of that. She thanks me but in reality I thank her. I thank her for allowing her story to be told.
It was not too long before this that Stacy the artist had told me something that i would later remember and be told. "We are all meant to dance in white dresses in fields of blue flowers. Sometimes it doesnt work like that. Sometimes, the flowers die. That's where hope comes in. All things play out through hope." All things do play out through hope, and in hope, we are never alone.
And the story goes on…
Though we are not associated with TWLOHA in anyway, we choose to operate for the same cause, Suicide Awareness and Prevention.
Something so simple as the Black Bands, "Shag Bands", "Sex Bracelets", yet such a powerful meaning. These bracelets are a comon item, nothing special with no special design to signify that they are any different than anyone elses. The idea behind this is that we are all connected by something simple. It's something internal. It's not a declaration into the world over a megaphone, it's the little voice inside saying "i am part of something... i am not alone."
The story of a broken night and a broken girl:
Walking alone beneath the lighs of the star filled sky I’ve realized that I lived a full life. In retrospect of my 17 years I’ve done more than those who live longer.
I was told by an artistic friend of mine once that our story will be told when it is ready. I put great faith in Stacy the Artist. She is smart. One night, she invited me to talk to her. She’s the beautiful type; smart, gorgeous, tan, slim, artistic- that’s why I’ve called her Stacy the Artist. I admired her for this, but most of all for her story. Her’s is one of triumph. Making it known, she said, is the easy part. Knowing when to make it known is what’s hard.
“You have suffered enough and what with yourself. It's time that you won. Take this sinking boat and point it home, we’ve still got time, raise your hopeful voice you had the choice, you've made it now”-the frames
I went home from this trip different; not necessarily changed, but different. It would be one year before I would meet Leslie, two years that I met Sarah and Hayley.
Leslie was crazy. Her thoughts and theories always had a way of leaving me in hysterics, but I never understood what was eating at her. We talked one day after I sent her the link to the TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS myspace about self-infliction. It was then that she told me that she too had suffered. It was a crazy idea to me; she was amazing… how could this happen. At that point I wanted to catch the first plane out to California and just give her the biggest hug ever. It was so foreign to me, even though I had suffered through it too.
Not too long after that we started talking again, about Sarah and Hayley and my relationship with them. It was then that I realized that this is a constant battle which all of will face.
ROTC has been a weird part of my life. Excelling through the ranks, I made a high school career out of it, being the commander of the school’s battalion, but it made something else out of me.
I’ve always been big on acceptance, wanting everyone to be loved. Sarah and Hayley came into my life like a whirlwind, taking me by surprise.
I sat on the balcony in silence, listening to her speak to me about why she hurt herself. It was a hard story to endure but one that I knew all too well. I had heard it a lot. My friends struggled a lot too. We are all broken. I talked with her for hours, letting her know that she was loved. This was not new at all either. For the past three years I have taken in broken girls and talked with them. I already had one friend, Lydia, who I was working with to pull her out of this, but Sarah was different.
Sarah I knew. Her story was one that I heard a lot; taking a blade across her arm, writing words against herself, against her soul. There was something different about her though. She had hope in her. I prayed for her as I listened, begging God to make it stop, to give her an outlet that would glorify him. I prayed over her again, asking his love to rush over her.
Before we slept that night I asked her to take these bracelets, to wear them in honor of us. It is a bond now. This is how the deal goes: she will remember this, wearing these on her right arm 24/7, and remember that we are never alone.
We are not alone. There is more to this we know. We can make it out. We will live to tell.
This was an interesting night for sure, Sarah and I talking on my balcony as Hayley slept, but there was more to the story than I ever could have guessed. Hayley herself was in on this too. I understood their pain, having been there myself. I had no clue, no idea what kind of impact I was forming with these bracelets.
When we returned from camp, I was taken back by the idea that Hayley was hurting as well. It didn’t seem possible to me: she was so stong and had it all together. Still enough, even with Hayley and Sarah being as strong as they were, they were still hurting. Pain doesn’t say ‘oh you’re strong… I don’t need to get you’. No. Pain finds strength and targets it. We have made a deal, Sarah, Lydia, Hayley, Leslie, and I. We are all in this together. We all have so much promise, let’s not throw it away. The deal goes as this: we will remember. We will spread the word. We will offer hope, but most importantly, we will love. We are not alone. There is more to this we know. We can make it out. We will live to tell.
I was asked after forming this movement who was the broken one in this story. They asked if it was Sarah or Hayley. The truth of the matter is that we are all broken...
"Cause we are broken. What must we do to restore Our innocence? And all the promise we adored.. Give us life again cause we just wanna be whole"- Paramore
Sarah thanked me as we were talking, thanking me for being there for her and all of that. She thanks me but in reality I thank her. I thank her for allowing her story to be told.
It was not too long before this that Stacy the artist had told me something that i would later remember and be told. "We are all meant to dance in white dresses in fields of blue flowers. Sometimes it doesnt work like that. Sometimes, the flowers die. That's where hope comes in. All things play out through hope." All things do play out through hope, and in hope, we are never alone.
And the story goes on…
Though we are not associated with TWLOHA in anyway, we choose to operate for the same cause, Suicide Awareness and Prevention.
Something so simple as the Black Bands, "Shag Bands", "Sex Bracelets", yet such a powerful meaning. These bracelets are a comon item, nothing special with no special design to signify that they are any different than anyone elses. The idea behind this is that we are all connected by something simple. It's something internal. It's not a declaration into the world over a megaphone, it's the little voice inside saying "i am part of something... i am not alone."