Without getting all deep and shit:
I've had a hellacious mental health week. Shout-out to the people holding it down for me when I can't hold it down myself.

And you see me laughing and goofy on a stream, but what you don't see is the crisis behind the scenes.

Both are true: I have been scarily unwell and able to cackle with joy hours later.

Grief is not linear. Mental illness doesn't always look like you imagine it would.

So today, I hung on to eat a spicy chip with people I care about.

I'm hanging on for silly and big things.

To piss on my father's grave.

To see cannabis legalized in all 50.

To watch my son ride a bike.

To crack stupid jokes about poop.

To see how long my leg hair can grow this winter.

When you feel like no one wants you around: you're wrong.

That's a lie and whoever told you or tells you that can go fuck themselves. Your mom. Your sister-in-law. Your uncle. Your professor. Your dentist. Idgaf who it is: their opinion stopped mattering the moment they decided to pour energy into tearing you down.

It's easy for me to say but know this: I forget to live that out, too. I believe the lies other people tell me about my worth, sometimes.

But I believe that shit less and less every month. Every week.

And more and more I find the people who celebrate me and I cling to them.

If your anger makes you want to stay alive, be fucking livid.

If your creative mind has so much more to say, STICK IT OUT SO YOU GET TO SAY IT.

If you forget how fucking magical you are, come back and read this ten times.

Not a soul matches what you bring to this world.

The pieces of stardust that make up your every cell, the microbiome in your guts, the tiny unique code in your chromosomes. Every piece of you cumulatively creates a never-before and never-again being of miraculous WONDER.

You deserve to have as much time as possible here.

Whatever you're going through, and no matter how fucking dark it gets up top - TELL. SOMEONE. A stranger in an AFSP chat. A nice lady named Tina on a crisis telehealth visit. Your GP. Your friends. Your brother. Your spouse.

More allies = more muscle to pull you back to you.

And you're not alone. Don't feel shame. All of those people have already heard me sob about how every one of my 32 years looks like evidence I'm toxic to everyone I love.

At the moment, it does.

But you won't feel that way forever. Neither will I.

And you might even surprise yourself with how much joy you can find in choosing the tiniest thing as an affirmation of all the goodness life has to offer.

A hot chip. A drink with friends. A poop joke. A sleeping baby. Warm socks.

But you gotta stick around to get that joy.

Get help through AFSP: https://afsp.org/get-help 

Or through your local crisis line.
https://www.foundation2.org/ 

Just get help. Your darkness only holds power over you when you don't let others in. Let them remind you what sunlight feels like, if you can't remember right now.