In case you haven’t been reading long, and in case you didn’t read the About page, I suffer from major depressive disorder. I’ve tried to kill myself once, a long time ago, and I struggle with suicidal ideation periodically. After every sentence in this blog entry, I have to look up at the TV to watch a team of superheroes quip and beat the crap out of one another in order to avoid crying from talking about this. But I know that I have helped at least one person, because they told me so, by talking about my illness, and I hope I can help more than just that one person, so here we are.
This week last year I got my headshot for DCRG taken, and before it was my turn I handed some eyeliner to Tricky Lake and asked her to write “Love” on my arm. Every year, DCRG’s Pit Crew is invited to get their headshots done in case we get enough sponsors to include pit crew headshots in the season program. So far, we haven’t (and if you or someone/some business you know wants to talk sponsorship, email me at lovelylikebeestings at gmail dot com and I will totes hook you up), but we never know at headshot time. If we were in the program, I wanted to use my photo to support To Write Love On Her Arms, which was created to educate people about mental illness. For suicide prevention week, they are doing something every day. Today they want participants to talk about why we can’t be replaced. I can’t be replaced because I am the only surviving daughter my parents have; because I am the only person who is fucked up in just the right way to be exactly like me; because who else would shout “puppy!” whenever we drive by a dog and kick her legs or turn in circles to indicate amusement and welcome new volunteers and freshie skaters with a sparkly red fez and a smile and regular volunteers and current and retired skaters with hugs? (Actually, the fez, being retired, will have to be replaced. I have considered getting some sparkly pink fabric and redoing the fez for my time as an NSO, but currently I have other uses for that money, like cat food and me food and electricity, but that’s not the point)
Why are you irreplaceable? Because trust me, you are.