So, I have a tattoo. Sorry mom. I have a little black semicolon on the inside of my left wrist, which has been there for at least 5 years. It started out in Sharpie, then progressed to a stick-on temporary tattoo, then to a semi-permanent developing ink one. Now, it’s never coming off. (Yes, they used sterile equipment. No, it didn’t hurt).

So, why a semicolon?

Those of you who know me, or those who have asked me about it, know I love to spread the word about Project Semicolon. If you don’t know what that is, you might want to pause and go look it up, because I didn’t come up with the concept and my explanation probably won’t do it justice. But, I’ll try. The analogy behind a semicolon tattoo is this: A semicolon marks a point in a sentence where the author could have ended the sentence, but chose instead to pause and keep going. You are the author of your life. You could choose to end it, permanently, or you could pause when life gets hard and then fight to keep going. Project Semicolon is a movement for suicide prevention and solidarity. You will see the little symbols on the warriors, the survivors, the loved ones of those affected by mental illness. Every one of us has a story, some of which we don’t say out loud. I didn’t used to explain my semicolon like I do now. If asked about it, I used a watered down version like, “Semicolons represent a pause before a continuation. In life sometimes you need to pause, but always keep going.” I never brought up Project Semicolon, and I NEVER used the word suicide. It was too dark, I thought, too vulnerable. I’ll be perfectly honest. To this day, my heart beats a little faster in my chest when I give someone the whole story. But I quite literally wear a piece of it on my sleeve, and there is no changing that now.

My tattoo is for me, sure; it’s a daily reminder of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come. I think the best part of having a semicolon, though, is the connection it facilitates when I discover a fellow “semicolon person,” whether they physically have the tattoo or not. Last week, I met a 14 year old girl in clinic. She was sick, and tired, and at the absolute end of her rope. Her parents were desperate to get her help, but she told all of us that she was done. When my supervisor left the room, I hung back for a second. I got up on the exam table with the patient and I rolled up my sleeve.

“Do you know what Project Semicolon is?” She shook her head. I explained to her the meaning behind the semicolon, and a little bit of why I had a permanent one. She looked at me, wide-eyed, and just nodded as I talked. I said I had been in her shoes, I knew how much life could suck when your brain worked against your body, and how utterly exhausting it was trying to keep your head above water while life went on around you. “BUT,” I pointed to my white coat, my stethoscope, gestured around the room. “I would have missed out on all of this if I had given up when I was 16. I look at my semicolon every day and it reminds me that I’m still here, and I have the opportunity to help other people for the rest of my life. I don’t know what you want to do when you’re older, but the world needs you.” I squeezed her hand tight before hopping off the table.

“Well,” I said, “I’m not telling you to get a tattoo.” Her mom laughed through the tears that had started rolling down her face. “I am telling you, that you are not alone in this, and don’t you ever think for a second that this fight is not worth fighting. I see you, I hear you, and I need you to keep going until it gets better. Because it will get better.” I pulled my sleeve back down (no tattoos at work, sigh) and left the room.

Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation can be all consuming. Life could be absolutely perfect (at my lowest point I was valedictorian, captain of my volleyball team, and surrounded by incredibly supportive people), but the darkness prevails. I feel so lucky that I don’t live in that darkness anymore, but it doesn’t escape me that there are plenty of people still fighting to find the light. If recognizing my semicolon brings a spark of hope to even one person struggling with their mental health, I will be satisfied. I am hoping, though, that it sparks a greater conversation among all who see it, on me or on anyone else. So if you see my tattoo, feel free to ask me about it. Not everyone will want to share their story, and that’s okay, but if you see a semicolon on someone else you know what it means. Be kind, friends, and remember the world needs you.