#HELP The Word We Need to Know is Okay to Say

You guys! I was finally starting to pull out of my funk, and give this page more attention…. and then I heard about Chester Bennington.‘s death.
I was sitting in the office of my son’s mental health psychiatrist when I read it. Tears immediately filled my eyes.
When we got out to the car, I told Beans I had something sad to tell him. I started to play Crawling, (“his song” more on that later) and told him that Chester had died. I even told him how police reported he died.
Because #mentalhealth needs to be spoken about.
He put his little head down, and said, “my gosh mama. that’s awful!” he was silent for awhile.
Here’s the thing. Did I know Chester? No (but man do I wish I did.) I didn’t even get to see him live. But I bought Linkin Park‘s first album the day it went on sale, and I was hooked.
Something about Chester spoke to me. The way he sang, the words he screamed. It was like someone could finally see their way through my muddled mind.
My son has been listening to them since he was just a little baby. When he was old enough to articulate some feelings, he shocked me.
We were in the car (probably going to some therapy appointment) and Crawling was playing from my iPod (remember the colorful gen 2’s? sorry #adhd )
He said, “mama, this is my bad thoughts song. It’s like my brain.”
Right there I knew the #mentalillness monster was in my son.
Right then, before the actual #bipolardisorder diagnosis, I knew it wasn’t just #autism.
I digress. Bear with me, there is a point here.
So anyway, I’m in a major funk again. Every time I see Chester’s face in my feed, my heart enters my throat. I am gobsmacked, and heart broken.
To know that that man, with the gorgeous wife, six precious kids, an amazing musical career, and more, felt he had no other choice….
He felt so alone….
so broken….
that he felt taking his own life was the only way to truly be free….
it’s horrific….
and I don’t want anyone, ever to feel that way.
So here’s my point.
If YOU ever feel that way, PLEASE message my page.
(I know my friends are thinking “SHE NEVER ANSWERS MY MESSAGES! Guys! I love you! I promise! I’m just super busy.)
Message me ONE WORD.
One four letter word.
Message me HELP
And as soon as I see it, I will be there, will bells on.
I don’t do phone calls because of anxiety, but I will chat with you, and I will put you in touch with someone in YOUR AREA to help you.
I promise.
Because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how famous we are.
It doesn’t matter how much money we have (which is good because I have NONE)
It doesn’t matter what kind of car we drive.
What matters is the mark we leave on the world.
The people we help.
The love we share.
Mental illness doesn’t discriminate either.
None of those things matter to that monster.
So if I can only do one thing in my life, as long as it’s helping someone in need, then I am fulfilled.
So please, HELP is all you need to say.
as a matter of fact, let’s hashtag it. Because it seems all the “important” words are hashtagged.
#HELP if you need it, I will be there.
If you feel like you could join this movement, then by all means, comment, share, or what ever. Just look out for one another, okay?
Just #Help each other

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I am a SAHM. I prefer domestic goddess, but whatever. My son Liam is autistic and is the child I was told I would never have. He is MY MIRACLE! These are our stories.


I am a SAHM. I prefer domestic goddess, but whatever. My son Liam is autistic and is the child I was told I would never have. He is MY MIRACLE! These are our stories.

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