The death of 18-year-old Rutgers University student Tyler Clementi has become a clarion call to all of us about the real dangers of bullying. He was outed as being gay on the internet and he killed himself.
This clip from Ellen deGeneres is far more eloquent than anything I could write: View Ellen's Message
If you are struggling with bullying, questions about sexuality or any other issues, call us on the Oregon Partnership Help Line: (800) 923-HELP.
(Editor's Note: Tim Hasty leaves today to go into active service as a Lieutenant in the US Army. He has been a tremendous help to us in setting up our Military Helpline while waiting for his deployment orders)
My time here at Oregon Partnership working in drug prevention has refined me; I knew I was ready when those bars were pinned to my shoulders. I knew I was ready when my peers started to look to me for leadership, guidance and advice. I knew I was ready when I had come to peace with life changing in drastic ways.
“PTSD is a reaction by normal people, to an abnormal situation - and there is nothing normal about war. “
This is the phrase we on the Military HelpLine use over and over to help soldiers, family members and other veterans understand the emotions they may be experiencing. We know that family and community awareness can be a life giving safety net.
Understanding the signs and symptoms of PTSD is a major step forward in battling the stigma and the effects.
A myth exists that if you talk about suicide to a depressed person you may be “planting the idea in the person’s mind.” In my experience this is completely untrue. If an individual is feeling hopeless and is struggling, chances are good that she has considered this ominous option. So, please don’t be afraid to address the situation.
It is early when the alarm goes off. 5:00am! Why would anyone want to get up at that time to go to work? The traffic is light as I head west on I-84 onto I-5 south. Morning has always been my favorite time of day.
The office is quiet, the overnight Crisis Line Staff fills me in on calls and updates me on need-to-know information. I log in and, as the red light disappears from the side bar announcing my successful entry into the system, the phone rings.
A sense of community envelopes all of us, and gets its start in the training
I thought I would use my flagship OP entry to repost this poem blogged by a friend who (also) works with grieving children:
On the red-eye from Seattle, a two year-old
in the seat behind me screeches
his little guts out. Instead of dreaming
of stuffing a wad of duct tape
into his mouth, I envy him, how he lets
his pain hang out. I wish I too could drill
a pipeline into the fields of ache, tap
a howl. How long would I need to sob
before the lady beside me dropped
her fashion rag, dipped a palm
into the puddle of me?
Our culture celebrates rugged individualism and self-reliance, but the truth is that we need each other.