We All Should Care

Accept the call for a deeper purpose.

This rant is brought to you by Damien, Spider’s 6 year old son. He is the most passionate, caring person that I know. Young and old alike.

Out of somewhere (he has a train of thought, I can’t say nowhere) he says to Spider and I quote:

“Everything is made in China, and although stuff made in China is cute,the way they treat kids and other people is NOT cute.”

Do you ever think to pick up a product and look at the label, to see where it’s made?

Do you even know how badly people and especially the children, who work in those “sweat shops” making a lot of these products that we frequently buy, are treated?

Have you ever even given a second thought to it?

Damien has.

So, look forward to more posts from him, “Rants By Damien” is the newest addition to We All Should Care,next time under his name.

His mom may have to help him type it, but the tangent will belong solely to him.

Damien, you ROCK.

Rid yourselves of the preconceived notions that you have about suicide, and just try to read this objectively.
I know how hard that is, but please try.

I have often heard that suicide is a cry for attention.
Perhaps, in some rare cases, that is true.
More realistically? For those that honestly intend on taking their own life, it is a lot more involved than just wanting a hug.
And it happens among all races, sexes, and ages.
It is not exclusive to one type of person.
It’s only requirements? That you’re broken, scarred, hurting, aching, agonizing and wanting OUT.
You want the pain to stop.
You don’t stop and think about what will happen in the morning when the sun doesn’t rise for you, all that matters is that hollow in your chest will be gone.
You’ll no longer have to put forth effort to merely breathe, and put one foot in front of the other.
No more auto pilot.
No more pretending.
You’ll be free.
So see, there is someone who DOES understand.
But you know what?
It’s not true.
It won’t make the pain go away, it will only cause more. It will hurt people that love you, and I can promise you, even if you don’t talk to them daily, there is someone that can’t live without you.
There is someone that loves you so much, that their lifeline is connected to yours.
Do you want to be responsible for THEIR hollow? Their pain?
If you’re reading this and you’ve been there, I may not know you (or I may) but I CARE.
If you let me, I’LL REACH BACK when you’re extending your hand.
Nothing may ease your pain, but by damn, I’ll share it with you.
But ending your life? Stupid, inconsiderate, selfish, cowardly.
You’re above that.

Statistics to back up what I’ve said:

• Males take their own lives at nearly four times the rate of females and represent 79.4% of all U.S. suicides.1

• During their lifetime, women attempt suicide about two to three times as often as men.5

• Suicide is the eighth leading cause of death for males and the seventeenth leading cause for females.1

• Among males, adults ages 75 years and older have the highest rate of suicide (rate 37.97 per 100,000population).1

• Among females, those in their 40s and 50s have the highest rate of suicide (rate 7.53 per 100,000population).1

• Firearms are the most commonly used method of suicide among males (57.6%).1

• Poisoning is the most common method of suicide for females (39.1%)
Among American Indians/Alaska Natives ages 15- to 34-years, suicide is the second leading cause of death.1

• Suicide rates among American Indian/Alaskan Native adolescents and young adults ages 15 to 34 (21.7 per100,000) are 2.2 times higher than the nationalaverage for that age group (10.0 per 100,000).1

• Hispanic female high school students in grades 9-12 reported a higher percentage of suicide attempts(14.0%) than their White, non-Hispanic (7.7%) orBlack, non-Hispanic (9.9%) counterparts

• Suicide is the second leading cause of death among 25-34 year olds and the third leading cause of deathamong 15- to 24-year olds.1

• Among 15- to 24-year olds, suicide accounts for 12.3% of all deaths annually.1

• The rate of suicide for adults aged 65 years and older was 14.7 per 100,000.1 Nonfatal, Self-Inflicted Injuries*

• In 2005, 372,722 people were treated in emergency departments for self-inflicted injuries.6

• In 2006, 162,359 people were hospitalized due to self- inflicted injury.1

• There is one suicide for every 25 attempted suicides
In 2007:

• 14.5% of students, grade 9-12, seriously considered suicide in the previous 12 months (18.7% of femalesand 10.3% of males).4

• 6.9% of students reported making at least one suicide attempt in the previous 12 months (9.3% of femalesand 4.6% of males).4

• 2.0% of students reported making at least one suicide attempt in the previous 12 months that requiredmedical attention (2.4% of females and 1.5% ofmales)

You can read the full post of statistics HERE

Remember, when you think you have nobody, that nobody is there.
Look a little harder, a little deeper.
If you can’t talk to someone you know, if you can’t talk to me, then please ASK FOR HELP HERE
It’s a site with all the numbers you’ll need to find someone to help.

I notice the things that so few do.
I go about my daily life in a plethora of emotions because I can honestly almost feel what others do. I call it extra empathy, in reality, I have no idea if there is a name for it.
I know that there are so many people that are perceived incorrectly by society.
They are thought golden, untouchable, happy, simply because they hide behind a facade. A mask of smiles, though it never truly reaches their eyes. You never see their soul, because it’s dark.
I know that look because I have that look.
That “empty, longing, soul searching, I’m never going to be fixed, but I wish I had someone that could relate, and accept me no matter how many neuroses I may have” look.
Sometimes, it isn’t a matter of being fixed, but merely, of having someone hold your hand in the dark, and walk quietly alongside you, to quiet the shadows, if only a bit.
Sometimes, we just want someone to hear what we aren’t saying, but we’re silently screaming.
I think Charles C. Finn can sum it up better than I can, so I’ll let him:

“Please Hear What I Am Not Saying”

Don’t be fooled by me.
Don’t be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that I’m afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me,
but don’t be fooled,
for God’s sake don’t be fooled.
I give you the impression that I’m secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well
as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water’s calm and I’m in command
and that I need no one,
but don’t believe me.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don’t want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it’s followed by acceptance,
if it’s followed by love.
It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It’s the only thing that will assure me
of what I can’t assure myself,
that I’m really worth something.
But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare to, I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I’m afraid you’ll think less of me,
that you’ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I’m afraid that deep-down I’m nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that’s really nothing,
and nothing of what’s everything,
of what’s crying within me.
So when I’m going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I’m saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying,
what I’d like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can’t say.

I don’t like hiding.
I don’t like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
but you’ve got to help me.
You’ve got to hold out your hand
even when that’s the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you’re kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings–
very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings!

With your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you can be a creator–an honest-to-God creator–
of the person that is me
if you choose to.
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,
you alone can remove my mask,
you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you choose to.
Please choose to.

Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach to me
the blinder I may strike back.
It’s irrational, but despite what the books say about man
often I am irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.

Charles C. Finn
September 1966

If you feel this way, even if you never contact me, understand, that when nobody else does, I hear what you’re not saying, and I see YOU, not your mask. I try not to pry, but oftentimes I can’t help what I see without looking.

For everyone else? Please, do everyone a favor, never place anyone on a pedestal. We are merely human, no matter how pretty and golden we are, we are not made of marble, we cannot sit still for an eternity, and we will fall.
The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall.
Remember that the one hurting, may atypically be you, but genuinely wounded will be the one you chose to deify.

Alright, where are my fellow “tweeters” at?
That either sounds dirty, or like we’re druggies. Either way lol
Come join me on Twitter today, as I have declared it Spencer Bell Day!
We are going to get the trending topic to be #spencerbellislegendary, and tweet about how incredible his legacy is, all day.
With bouts of humor, probably dreadful jokes mixed in, and lots of heart felt emotion.
My Spencerian Army thus far?
Add us all.

@SpencerBell

@Willow_Raine

@taylor_blue

@hello_jodie

@Damij

@pconway6

We’d appreciate the help, love,and support for Spencer, and Adrenal Cancer Awareness.

I met an amazing man today, but forgot, like the winner that I am, to ask his name. He had been sitting in front of the Walmart entrance since 9 A.M (it was 5 p.m by the time I made his acquaintance) taking up donations for a remarkable organization.
One that I didn’t even know existed, but since hearing about it, I can say that I am beyond proud to be a residence of the Charlotte metro area.
The organization? U.C.A.R.E (United Cancer Alliance Reaching Everyone).

Their Mission Statement as taken from U.C.A.R.E:

“United Cancer Alliance Reaching Everyone, Inc. (U.C.A.R.E.) is a non-profit organization, founded in Concord, NC and is based in Charlotte, NC. U.C.A.R.E. was organized to provide financial assistance to individuals and the families of individuals receiving cancer treatment in the Charlotte, North Carolina Metropolitan Area and vicinity.”

How can you help? Well, I’m glad that you asked!

* You can DONATE to the cause

* You can Volunteer to help spread the word and collect donations

* If you own or operate a business, you can become a Sponsor

You don’t have to live in or around the Charlotte, NC. Metro area to help, donations are accepted from all over.
The only requirement is that you have a giving heart.

It’s beautiful when people reach out to help those in their community, see, there IS good in this world, you just have to look a little closer.

I’ve made a pledge. A Pledge to get people to care. I intend on keeping my word, and yet I know it won’t be easy.
I’ve been writing on another site about Spencer Bell, and when I got this site up and running, I knew he had to be my first actual post. He is a young man that was taken well before his time due to Adrenal Cancer. Talented, an artisan, a beautiful soul. He deserves to have his legacy live on.
Before his passing in December of 2006, he made arrangements with his mother to have his works, his art, displayed to the world.
They are all very moving, and were, for me, life altering.
You can learn more about him HERE.
If you’ll notice the picture at the top of the page, that is my wrist, and on it, is a bracelet that says ‘The Music Lives On’ on one side, and on the other, is Spencer’s Memorial Site address.
If you haven’t heard of Spencer, you truly are missing out on beautiful masterpieces, touching stories, some that will make you laugh, others that will touch your heart and make you cry.
He may not be with us in his physical body, but he lives on, through his family, his friends, his fans, and last but certainly not least, his art.
So, I thought, “Hey! I have a great idea!” And thus, my outreach was born.
I have forty bracelets, just like the one that I have on my wrist, to pass out, to the first forty people who go to Spencer’s site, and fill out a profile, listen to his music, read his lyrics,journal entries, and look at his art. Get to know him. Report back to me with your link, your favorite piece, or story that you read about him,and I’ll send you a bracelet. (Not to mention that your soul was fed as well. It’s a win/win).
Then I’m going to forward each of your heart felt messages on, to his family. I know that your words, your feelings, and thoughts would touch them, help them to know that Spencer’s story is being shared around the world. That through him, through them, people will learn about Adrenal Cancer, and we WILL make a difference.

Update: Yes you have seen this post before, but it bears repeating since some people won’t scroll back through all of the awesome articles. Go, get to know Spencer and then report back to me on what you love, like, are impassioned by in his works. Go ahead, I’ll wait