Things I want to say..

Suicide awareness is a gentle but powerful call to notice each other, to look deeper, and to break down the walls of silence around mental health. It’s about understanding that behind a smile or a silent nod, there may be a story of pain, isolation, or despair that someone is carrying alone. Through awareness, we acknowledge that suffering exists, but we also affirm that no one should bear it in silence or shame. Raising awareness is an invitation for empathy—a reminder that words and small gestures can have incredible weight and meaning. It’s a movement that teaches us that conversations matter, that listening with an open heart can provide someone with a lifeline, and that even the simple act of being present can make all the difference. Suicide awareness transforms a difficult topic into a message of hope, connection, and resilience. It’s about telling those struggling that we see them, that they are not invisible, and that they matter. By shedding light on these struggles, we creat...

Our group seems to get smaller && smaller every year sister. It's kind of heartbreaking. Whether it be because we cut off toxicity, or because the people that came before are now gone ((that person being padre)), our family is dwindling.  Regardless, this was a good run sister. We didn't run with the sombrero this year, or a picture, but we wore your shirt again. We do it every year. But this year was a little different, this year I decided it's my day off so why not do something a little more permanent?  So let's start this blog off with;  It started with an idea.  That idea, turned into an appointment, and that appointment, turned into a booked appointment. It's almost been four years sister, four long years that you've been gone. It seemed the appropriate time to get your memorial. So I did it, my own style, with my own ideas of pictures, && combined it into one.  The ribcage because you're gone via your...

I remember the mornings I couldn't move sister, like the grief was so physically heavy, that I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I just couldn't. But yet almost four years later, I'm doing the exact opposite. I know you know sister, but writing to you makes me feel better. I know you're by my side, I know you're watching EVERYTHING I do, but writing to you, whether it be physically or thru this, helps.  I know the raw feelings of it all sometimes helps people too, so there's always that. I've gotten into the routine every morning of going to the gym. No matter how I feel emotionally, or physically. I push myself to go, so much so, that I almost have a routine of things to do every week. Because ya know, consistency is key or whatever.  I've lost the weight, ((I only have four more pounds to lose)), I'm fighting ((&& mostly winning)) against my body dysmorphia, I've done the therapy for grief, I'm taking the steps, working on ...