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Podcast with #Talk2BeWell: YouthLine

Posted August 30, 2019

In this episode, Dr. Robin Henderson of Well Being Trust, speaks to members of YouthLine, a 24-hour crisis, support, and helpline for youth. YouthLine is a peer-to-peer youth crisis and support service provided by Lines for Life —a non-profit dedicated to preventing substance abuse and suicide. YouthLine operates a national helpline that provides crisis support and referrals via phone, text, chat, and email.

Click here to listen: #Talk2BeWell: YouthLine

The following podcast contains discussion that may be triggering to some listeners. If you or someone you know if struggling, please reach out to the YouthLine at 1(877)968-8491 or text ‘Teen2Teen’ to 893863.

How a Tattoo Helped Me Reclaim My Skin

Posted August 15, 2019

Our very own YouthLiner opens up about their struggle with self-injury, recovery, regaining control, and finding hope.

TRIGGER WARNING: If you struggle with self-harm or suicidal thoughts, the following post could be triggering. For support, you can reach out to YouthLine 4pm-10pm PST by call, text, or chat or call 1(800)273-8255, 24/7.

Numbness hurts. A lot. It’s a dull aching pain that follows you around. It can make you feel lost, completely cut off from everything around you. For me, it made me feel inhuman, I felt so hollow and devoid of feeling I was willing to do anything to get out of it, even if that meant hurting myself. So that’s what I did, for the better part of my middle school years, as well as a decent portion of my freshman and sophomore years. With a lot of self love and support from those around me who loved me unconditionally, I stopped. I found other coping mechanisms and learned how to allow myself to be vulnerable with those who cared about me, I learned in therapy how to open up, and most of all that it was OK to not be OK.

I am now proudly 3 years clean from self injury, but I am still left with reminders of my self harm. My arms, legs, hips, and stomach are covered in scars, all in various stages of healing, some raised, others flat and white. But they all remain stubborn and refuse to fade. I am forced to confront my scars anytime I look at myself in a mirror, they are constantly in the front of my mind when I get dressed or plan outfits. My self injury scars make the most painful and personal part of my life open to the world, and it seems as soon as I begin to forget about them someone reminds me they exist. Whether its eyes flicking down to my scars when I wear shorts in the summer, or a doctor refusing to talk to me about my migraines until I promised her to “be kind to myself”.

I am not ashamed of my scars, and I am not ashamed of struggling with mental illness, but my scars being visible to anyone I interact with means I can’t control who knows about my struggles with self injury. This thought has plagued me since I first got clean, I opened up to my mom about it and she offered to take me to get them lasered off. At first I was elated, so ready to close this chapter and move onto the next, but as I sat in the doctor’s office and was shown a photoshopped image of my leg with no scars I realized it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want them to be gone, I just wanted them to only be visible to myself. I wanted to gain that control over my body and my struggle back.

In the second grade, I was randomly assigned to write a report on orcas in elementary school and was immediately captivated. I learned as much as I could about their conservation, biology, and most of all their pod and family structure. I even refused to go to SeaWorld that summer because I didn’t want to support their business. The thing that captivated me the most was their capacity for empathy, orcas have a part of the brain that humans don’t, and most biologists suspect that it’s an extension of the amygdala and it allows orcas to reach another, deeper level of empathy than humans can. When they are separated from their family they grieve, they develop dialects, and remain attached to their family for their entire lives.

My 15th year was rough, I was forced to leave traditional school because of an undiagnosed panic disorder and had completely isolated myself. I fell into a deep depression, and didn’t see myself living much longer. When my birthday rolled around, I didn’t have any friends to celebrate and fully intended to spend my day alone. My dad, however, had different plans. He surprised me with tickets to go whale watching in the Puget Sound. On the day of the trip, I gritted my teeth against the wind as the boat sped into the Sound, after about an hour the captain shut off the engine and we waited, we waited for the orcas to appear. At first they appeared at random intervals, popping shyly out of the water or gliding just below the surface, flying past the boat. I waited alone on the right edge of the deck staring at the water, waiting for the water to break and reveal the large animal I knew was underneath.

I glimpsed movement under the surface and watched, mouth agape, as a giant orca, J-27 Blackberry, broke the surface The first thing I noticed was how huge he was, I knew going into the trip that orcas can grow to up to 30 feet long but seeing it in person was something I could have never imagined. As head broke the surface, it looked at me and I knew that it knew I was there. Looking into the eyes of this orca I could fully understand how every culture that had come into contact with them was captivated by them, depicting them as guardians or gods. In that moment I began to cry, alone on the deck staring at an animal I couldn’t begin to understand.

When a memory is so formative it can be hard to put into words, but that whale watching trip carried me through one of the darkest periods of my life, and I knew that I wanted it to be immortalized on my body forever. I would day dream about orcas nestled in blackberries decorating my arms and legs. My 18th birthday loomed closer and closer, and the tattoo became less of a daydream and more of a real possibility. I turned 18 on October 3rd, and on October 17th I was tattooed.

For four hours I sat while my tattoo artist outlined, shaded, and colored in the orca, my orca. I watched as the orca took shape and my self harm scars gradually faded and disappeared underneath the ink. The first time I saw my finished tattoo I couldn’t stop smiling, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it, in a span of four hours my forearm went from something I felt compelled to hide to something I wanted everyone in my life to see.

My scars are still there, just covered by something beautiful, and meaningful. I have not erased memories of my past, but I have paired it with my present appreciation for life. I have no intention of ever getting rid of my scars or erasing them entirely or moving forward as if they didn’t exist, but I have every intention of decorating my scars with art, art tied to meaningful, beautiful memories to remind me of how far I have come, and how much further I will go.

Expectations and Gap Years

Posted March 1, 2019

Our very own YouthLiner tackles social expectations and why it’s OK to take a break.

Work really hard through high school, get good grades, apply to different schools, and finally go to college. That’s the path we are supposed to take, right? The pressure from society often makes it seem like going to college or university is the only way to find success in the future. There are many other options though, and I decided I needed to take a different path: a gap year.

Senior year of High School had been really difficult for me. I worked hard, I studied for tests, I got a job, I did everything I could to make myself look good for the schools I was applying to, but it was just too much. I got really depressed and used to cry in the bathrooms during class, I had no motivation to do well in school anymore, I skipped classes, and my grades started going down. I didn’t care about school at all, but I was so close to finishing I knew I had to just keep pushing through it. That was when the realization hit me that school wasn’t almost over. If I was finding it hard to complete a single, simple assignment in High School, what would it be like for four more painful years of college? I knew I couldn’t do it, I just needed a break. That’s when my school counselor suggested a gap year. I was unsure at first but the more I thought about it, the better it sounded.

I still applied for schools at the same time as everybody else, and still received my acceptance – and rejection – letters, but instead of committing, I asked to defer my decision for a year. It was such a relief to know that I had a place at a school, but that I had a year of no commitments or responsibilities ahead of me.

Taking a year out of school has been really good for my mental health. I have been able to dedicate time to myself, work on making healthier choices, and gain some more life experience that has helped shape who I have become. It was weird at the beginning being home while everybody else I knew went to school during the day, but I soon found ways to spend my time. I volunteer at Youthline and other organizations, work, coach soccer, and have plans to spend a month in Asia.

While it’s been hard for me seeing others at school, joining clubs, and making new friends while I stay home, I think I made the right decision for myself and my well-being. The social pressure to ‘succeed’ can be really overwhelming at times, but I urge anybody who is considering what to do next, or unsure about what direction to go in their lives, to remember that you forge your own path, and that the world is your oyster.

Puzzle Pieces

Posted February 4, 2019

Our own YouthLine volunteer talks grief as a suicide loss survivor.

If our lives are like puzzles that we’re constantly putting together and rearranging, grief means losing pieces to the puzzle. The first, biggest, and most obvious piece that’s lost is your loved one’s piece. As you move through your grief, you realize that they weren’t the only piece of the puzzle that’s been changed.

When you lose such a big part of your puzzle, it’s hard for the whole picture to seem real. It’s impossible to look at your puzzle the same way you once did. How could you? There’s a giant hole where your loved one was. And in the case of a tragic loss, it’s like they took their piece from your puzzle violently. There’s pieces that get pushed out of position, others might get knocked off onto the floor, pieces connected to your loved one might get torn or be ripped away from your life too. The point is, it’s hardly ever just the one piece that’s lost.

My loved one was Madison. Madison passed from suicide at the age of 20, about a month before his 21st birthday. He was, and is, the biggest piece I’ve ever lost in life. Madison took with his piece the piece of my puzzle that was my self-image. Through high school I relied on Madison to help push me from passion to passion, from interest to interest. If Madison liked a thing, I too, liked that thing. In many ways, Madison was an older sibling to me. In other ways, he was more than that. Madison showed me ways that puzzles could look like and before long, I was trying to emulate him.

After he died, puzzles made even less sense. Madison and I had essentially started filling out our individual puzzles together. He was my absolute best friend. I could see a place for a piece that he may have missed and vice versa. The construction of each other’s puzzles was so intertwined it could be hard to tell the difference between ours at times. After his death, I think I tried to continue finishing parts of his puzzle as I was trying to finish my own.

I didn’t even want to look at my own puzzle. I figured, it didn’t matter what my puzzle is going to look like, there is a giant hole in the middle of it and no one will ever want to look at it, or fill in its pieces with me. I didn’t know where to start with putting the pieces back together. Madison’s piece took with it pieces I needed to function.The section of my puzzle that looked like sleep, that looked like feeding myself, that looked like socializing all were missing pieces. It seemed insurmountable to fill the hole that Madison left in my life. I thought I could never get to the place I was before his death.

Sometimes laying back down pieces that were already there, that already fit can be one of the hardest things to do for yourself. A sleep schedule and regular eating were both pieces that flew off the table alongside Madison. I had bouts of insomnia growing up and this piercing loss ensured that I would not be going to sleep before the sun came up for months at a time.

I couldn’t cook without reopening the still healing wound. I now laugh at the time I set off the smoke alarm because a pepperoni slid off a pizza in the oven and caught fire, but at the time that moment triggered so much shame and guilt as I remembered how Madison and I cooked nearly every time we were together. “Madison would have never let this happen!” I screamed, with tears streaming from my eyes, to my parents as they tried to figure out what the big issue was. At times, it was just as hard get something as easy as Taco Bell, again just a reminder of the late nights after concerts with Madison. As a result, the grief made it extremely difficult to get food into my system, even more so than the general lack of appetite I was experiencing.

It has taken multiple years to get to a place where I felt that the grief wasn’t impeding on my life anymore. I owe a large part of my healing process to Youthline and what it has done for me. Youthline gave me a place to educate myself and connect myself more to what Madison struggled with. It gave me a place where I could use my grief for good and process the grief through the work. It gave me people full of love, a community of people wanting to help others like Madison. It gave me the tools to know what to do if another friend finds themselves in the same place Madison was. Of course therapy, hard emotional work on my own brain, a whole lot of patience from family and friends, a bunch of sad poetry, and some drifting with subsequent self-discovery helped get me here, but Youthline was truly the best thing to have happened to me when I needed it, even if I wasn’t the one calling.

Dealing with the grief is also like putting together a puzzle, when you can’t find the right pieces to fit, sometimes it’s best to step away and just look at it for what it is. It sometimes takes bringing in people to look at your puzzle for you to shed some light on what holes need patching, holes you may have missed. Sometimes you try and make some pieces fit for a while and sometimes you try something completely new. I think that the most important thing to do with grief is allow yourself to experience all these changes as you grieve, again like puzzles it’s often a confusing and frustrating experience.

In a way, I was right. I would never get to the place I was before his death. And now, I don’t think that’s what I would have wanted. In the years after Madison died, I put pieces back together. A lot of pieces were put back without me consciously doing so, a lot of pieces were makeshift fixes that now don’t make as much sense, and a lot of pieces are now so important that they define what makes my puzzle my own. In the end, my puzzle looks nothing like it did when Madison was around. But now, I look at my puzzle and see so much beauty in the parts of my puzzle, missing pieces and all.

How My Cell Phone Helped Me Save a Life; A Look into the Unacknowledged Benefits of Technology in Suicide Prevention

Posted January 2, 2019

Our own YouthLine volunteer speaks out about middle school, technology’s potential in suicide prevention, and their own experience helping a friend in need.

Middle school is often regarded as some of the worst years in a person’s life. During this period of three years, hormones, friends, drama, and often newfound family issues plague our lives. For me personally, I had it pretty easy, I’ve always had a good relationship with my parents, the drama never affected me in a serious way, and I had pretty great friends. But for some of my closest friends, the opposite was true.

These problems are intensified by the rise in mental health issues among teens in recent decades, which has created a devastating rise in suicidal thoughts and attempts made by the youth of all demographics just about everywhere in the world. There are no confirmed causes for this, but many well-backed theories speculate that this rise is in correlation with the advancement of technology, especially that of screens: smartphones, tablets, computers, and so on. This is because our relationship with our tech often isolates us, keeping us from face to face human interaction. In addition, not just teens, but everyone tends to use social media to compare themselves to other people, which often leads to feelings of discontent about one’s own life. But before we ban all technology and force teens to talk to each other in person exclusively, it’s worth asking ourselves, “How can technology help?” This question is very seldom considered when we talk about the correlation between technology and the rise in teen mental health problems, but it’s an important one and one that can be very useful to those of us working to prevent suicide.

Because I generally had a pretty easy time in middle school, I quickly became known as the person everyone could come to in order to talk about their problems. I enjoyed being a source of support for people, and being able to work through things with my friends brought a lot of pride and self-esteem into my life. A lot of people would be surprised to find out, though, that most of these interactions took place over text. For us teens, we find a certain power in not having to say something out loud. A lot of us will even tell you that we prefer texting to talking on the phone. By far, most of the contacts we talk to at the Oregon Youthline reach out to us through text. Some people may find that concerning, but think of it this way: If I’m texting someone, and they feel comforted by not having to say something out loud, then it becomes ten times easier for them to say, “I’m thinking of suicide.” This exact scenario came true for me just last year.

When I was in the eighth grade, one of my close friends texted me a concerning message- what most in the suicide prevention world would call an “invitation”. Though I hadn’t yet been through the training which I went through in the process of becoming a Youthline volunteer, after a few texts back and forth, I quickly realized that my friend was in trouble. Because I was able to get the information I needed through text, I was able to call for a wellness check, which led to my friend’s recovery from what turned out to be a suicide attempt. Without my phone’s texting function, it’s very likely that I wouldn’t have been able to do that, and Oregon Youthline would not be able to do the important work that we do every day.

These days, while I can’t say it has been easy for my friend since that night, they are on the path to recovery, and most importantly, they know how to reach out for help, even if it ends up being over text. Many are quick to assume that technology is all bad when it comes to this discussion, but it is vitally important that we recognize that with every negative comes a positive and that with proper education about the power held by these devices we hold in our hand every day, they can become a tool that we can use for good, and maybe even help us save lives.

Let’s Talk: Special Edition YouthLine Shirt

Posted December 19, 2018

“You know what blows my mind? That YouthLine is manned by teens. That literally makes me feel overwhelmed with pride for those folks. Such strength and kindness!” says Jeffrey Immer, a Creative Director & Brand Strategist.

The YouthLine is ever-growing. In 2018 alone, YouthLine has connected to 13,000 youth who have reached out for support while in crisis, over 26,000 youth in classroom and community settings, and has grown from just 9 youth volunteers to over 85. With this wave of YouthLine’s impact across the state of Oregon, the face of the organization continues to evolve as well. We connected with two local Portland designers, Steven Sczepanik and Jeffrey Immer, to start a project that spoke to YouthLine’s mission to listen and support. Thus, a new shirt design was born.

Both Steven and Jeffrey noted that they have experienced their own mental health challenges over their lifetimes. “Throughout my life, I have dealt with different levels of depression and/or isolation. I believe that every individual, at some point in their life, confronts mental health struggles. We’re humans, it’s hard to avoid. We should all feel supported, especially our youth,” said Steven. This lived experience, a desire to help others, and and an understanding of the important work YouthLine does prompted a quick and easy “yes” to this project.

The YouthLine Team spoke to the designers to get some insight on the inspiration for the new design. Steven said, “We wanted to champion the quote ‘Let’s Talk’ and its powerful message. We were so inspired by the passion and dedication that YouthLine volunteers have for the work they do.” Jeffrey spoke to the theme and design portion that accompanies the message. “We had an idea to do something that felt 90’s and kind of wild. My main consideration was to make something that looked cool that youth would want to wear.”

What they have created has the potential to make an impactful reach to our youths. An engaging and creative design can be the key to start important conversations around mental health and wellness. The focus on this message is an invitation to start talking about YouthLine; with staff, volunteers, and community members as walking ambassadors for the mission and vision of YouthLine.

Not only will the new shirts be fun and engaging, but we aim to make a difference in the process. We want to spread the message of YouthLine beyond the organization. Every person that wears the shirt provides a message of hope and a safe space for others to talk about their struggles, as well as a place to reach out for support. Additionally, for every shirt that is sold, the money will be given back to YouthLine to expand their services.

Jeff spoke to the inspiration he felt about youth volunteers providing support to their peers via text, chat, phone, and email, “I think it shows the possibility of strength and courage. Not that we always have to be strong or courageous, but knowing that there is a fellow teen on the line willing to talk it out would make me feel like I can access the same well of strength that the volunteer is pulling from—that we’re in this together. It’s really powerful.”

We echo that notion. Each youth volunteer and staff make a huge impact in the lives of teens each day. We are so thankful to Steven and Jeffrey for using their skills and talents to aid in spreading the message of hope to others, and we are thrilled for the release of the special edition Youthline shirts. Simply and beautifully stated by Steven, “We should all feel supported and heard, especially our youth. I don’t think a t-shirt is going to save the day by any means, but it can at least open a dialogue about mental health struggles.”

Order yours today! Show your support with a Special Edition YouthLine shirt! Shipping discount provided for purchase of a Special Edition YouthLine shirt. Sizes available: XS, S, M, L, XL, 2XL . Use the coupon code SHIP-$5 to receive discounted shipping on this item. https://www.theyouthline.org/materials/apparel/special-edition-youthline-shirt/

About the Designers

Jeffrey Immer lives in Portland, OR. Currently, he is working with Fort Wick on online magazine work and for Tillamook helping them with a big 2019 rebrand. Jeff loves working on projects that the public gets to see and enjoy.

https://www.instagram.com/biklops/

Steven Sczepanik lives in Portland, OR. He has been in the design industry for 10+ years and more recently has been working alongside brilliant creatives at an agency called Instrument, a digital brand and experience company. As much as Steven loves to design in the digital space, he’s always thrilled to be given the opportunity to let loose and have fun with illustration work.

https://www.instagram.com/theatre.of.the.absurd/

About the YouthLine

The Oregon YouthLine is a peer-to-peer youth crisis and support service. YouthLine operates a helpline that provides crisis support and referrals via phone, text, chat, and email. The helpline is answered by youth daily from 4pm-10pm and by adults at all other times.YouthLine also operates a peer-supported outreach program to de-stigmatize mental health challenges, increase awareness for mental health and wellness, and encourage youth to reach out for help.