i said it two years ago and i felt it when we walked into the White House together last summer and it’s true again tonight: Jason Russell is my friend. It’s something i’m very proud of and we will be friends for life. i could go on and on and on but perhaps a short synopsis is this: i’m glad that my friend is okay. i’m glad that other people feel less alone and i’m glad other people have been able to find hope and strength and support because of what Jason has lived through. And something else i felt two years ago which i still know to be true tonight, is that it just as easily could have been me naked on that street corner. This life is that fragile. Mental health is that real. And i am so incredibly aware of the pain and need inside of me. If there’s a silver lining in the whole thing, it’s that we don’t have to fake it. We don’t have to play the part of the perfect hero. It isn’t real and it isn’t possible. We’re supposed to have honest conversations and ask for help when we need it and take a lunch break and sleep at night. We aren’t robots or machines and this life is not a performance or a contest. Nobody wins. Nobody is the coolest. That’s the bullshit lie. The truth is that we matter. We deserve love. We simply do. We have value and it has nothing to do with achievement or accomplishment. We break in different ways in this life, some visible and some unseen, but it’s something true for all of us: We are all a people in need.
Laura
Holy crap. Talk about timing. I remember the beautiful words you wrote then, and how down to earth and real. Thank you for caring abort your friend, and for sharing life – the good and bad with us. I think we all need reminding that we aren’t alone, and that it’s truly okay to not be okay. Life is just plain screwed up sometimes. It sometimes sucks. But the one constant (though sometimes difficult to see) is that hope is real.
Shelby
What happens after you’ve tried everything? I’ve taken medication, gone to therapy, gone to rehab, reached out to friends and family.. But the meds made it worse. My therapists didn’t believe me. And everyone decided I wasn’t worth helping. So what do you do when you’ve been struggling for 6 years and trying so hard to feel okay? What do you do after waiting and hoping and believing things get better, only to realize they never do? I’ve loved twloha through all of it. I think there’s a lot of beauty in what you’re doing. I donate every month. I tell all my friends about you. I want to believe rescue is possible. I really do. But I don’t know how to live anymore
Anonymous
Jamie, thanks for this raw honesty.
We’re all cracked. the cracks are the same depth, only the shatter pattern is different. It’s comforting to know we can sit next to each other & hold each others pieces together.
You matter because you exist. [we all do] We all need to have people in our lives who tell us: “just be & breath. That’s all you need to do for me.” [thanks Mom]
To me, the odd thing is, the more we allow our real self, our complete self, to be visible, to be known…
it gives others the chance to know us. Sometimes it helps explain our behavior.
It gives others the chance to really love the real us.
It also inspires them to be real, to share “the un-shareable” in their own life.
I am SO thankful for Renee’s book [Purpose for the Pain]. It’s been so helpful in wonderful & surprising ways.
[there is so much more I could say. I’m just not able to pull it off right now.]