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To Write Love On Her Arms
- Me, Myself, and I
- To write love on her arms is a charity put together to help people with deprssion, suicide and self injury. Experts estimate that 4% of the population struggle with self-injury. It has the same occurrence between males and females, even though in popular culture it can appear to be more prevalent among girls.
For more info go to www.twloha.com
Also support the bands that support twloha,
Between the Trees
The Classic Crime
Cool Hand Luke
The Human Flight Committee
Jason Choi and the Sea
Jimmy Eat World
Mike Dunn & The Kings of New England
Plain White T's
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
The Rocket Summer
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TWLOHA was founded by Jamie Tworkowski in October 2006. Prior to that, the seeds of the group were sown through the story of 19-year-old Renee Yohe, who struggled with addiction, depression, and self-injury. Written by Tworkowski in February 2006, the story chronicles Yohe's life five days before she entered treatment. In addition to the story, T-shirts were printed and sold in Orlando to fund Yohe's drug treatment, and a MySpace page was created to serve as home base for the project. Bands such as Anberlin and Switchfoot showed their support and began wearing the TWLOHA T-shirts right away, and TWLOHA's MySpace page began to receive messages and comments from young people struggling with the same issues that Yohe faced. What began as an attempt to help one person in Orlando quickly generated wide interest – to date, TWLOHA has heard from young people in all 50 states as well as many from Canada, Mexico, Australia and the United Kingdom (among others).
TWLOHA began operating as a non-profit organization in October 2006 under the umbrella of Fireproof Ministries. On September 1, 2007, TWLOHA left Fireproof and TWLOHA, Inc. was established in Florida as a 501 non-profit organization. TWLOHA uses a team of part-time help and volunteers to respond to the growing volume of MySpace messages and emails. The group recently leased an office in Cocoa, Florida, which will allow them to expand. In August 2007, TWLOHA was awarded a MySpace Impact Award in the Community Building category.
"Love is the Movement", "Rescue is Possible" and "Stop the Bleeding" are slogans often used by the organization. "Stop the Bleeding" is the slogan TWLOHA uses for live events, which combine music, art and speaking.
Thanks to Wikipedia for this brief overview of TWLOHA!!
0 Comments 290 weeks
Austin A-Rob Robinson
Another band to support is Forever the Sickest Kids. ever member of the band supports TWLOHA.0 Replies 177 weeks
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."5 Replies 271 weeks
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is ce
About 3 years ago, my parents divorced and I had to live with my mum and step-dad.2 Replies 273 weeks
He was awful to me, but one night when my sisters, brother and mum went out, he started to sexually abuse me and he kept doing it.
He made threats and told me if I ever told anyone, he'd kill me.
Him and mum broke up, because he got really paranoid about it, so I told mum about it and we went to court.
That all happened and got sorted out.
Just after Christmas, I got really depressed and all that because my friend, Amy passed away at Bondi, she drowned.
I got hold of my dad's gun [I dunno why he has one though] and bullets, thought about it, loaded the gun and logged onto MSN to say I'll never be online again and an IM popped up.
It was my friend, Caity or as you all know her, Twilight.
We talked and she convinced me that even though people die and bad things happen, people are born and good things happen to keep us all from doing something so awful.
I got rid of ALL the bullets and returned the gun to my dad, I told him everything and he got me help.
Things are looking up for me now and I'm so much happier.
Thank you Caity, for saving my life and for letting me know about TWLOHA.