What about the others?

Posted on January 29, 2012 by Steph Admin

This is likely going to hit a nerve or five most likely.  It’s not my intention to do so, this however has been something that’s been riding on my mind for a while and I feel that it’s time I spoke up and said something.

I support and stand by anyone who has a suicide related cause, after all we’re all working towards the same goals.  This is not a competition, this is a fight for survival.  However it saddens me greatly that the media generally focuses on the younger LGBTQ community due to the rash of suicides that occurred (sadly) last year.  Now before you start sending in the hate mail, I have scores of friends who are members of the LGBTQ community and I absolutely adore them!  They add color to my life, inspire me and help me to learn about their plight(s) and in turn allow me the benefit of educating others.

That’s a beautiful thing. For that, I thank you!

However, what about the others? The friend who couldn’t cope with his broken heart and hung himself from a tree in his best friends yard only to have his best friend find him?  What about the friend that was suffering from bi-polar disorder, battling an addiction and just couldn’t cope anymore and took matters into his own hands by shooting himself in the wee hours of the morning? What about the guy I went to school with (both elementary and high school) who ended his life because his rights as a father were taken away?  What about the friend who felt that he couldn’t contribute to society and for whatever reason decided to end it one night after overdosing on barbiturates? What about the person I knew who jumped to his death because life had taken too many wrong turns?

Those are just examples of people that I know of personally.  They were all straight, white and male.  They all suffered in their own minds for reasons that I and others that knew them can only speculate upon and where’s the attention for them?

Bottom line is this: Yes bullying IS an issue, being different or LGBTQ can in fact be a struggle for some as well.  However it’s just not the bullied or the LGBTQ community who suffers.  We all do at some point in our lives and sometimes there comes a point where regular everyday people can’t take it anymore and take matters into their own hands and end it all.  Leaving their loved ones to wonder why.

They matter too.  Let’s not forget about them.

 

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The naked truth.

Posted on January 9, 2012 by Guest Writer

Naked on all fronts: Stephanie Keobel, the founder of NAOYP.

She’s intense, beautiful in her own way, a Chef, brash, blunt and ballsy.  She’s also kind, compassionate and one of the most generous people you could ever hope to meet.  She takes shit from no one, has a ton of tattoos, makes a mean plate of nacho’s and would give you the shirt off her back or a swift kick in the ass.  Whichever the situation dictates.  She’s a private person about most things, writes a rather opinionated blog in her spare time and yet she’s a crusader, making a difference one moment at a time. To some perhaps, she may even be a hero.  Who is she?     

I sat down with Stephanie Keobel, the founder of NAYOP to get the naked truth about her, her thoughts on life and more importantly why she started this in the first place.

DC: What about you surprises people the most?
SK: The fact that I work as a Chef in a daycare now. Even someday’s I’m surprised by how much I love what I do!
DC: Why do you think that is?
SK: My appearance, my persona. Some people still assume that people who have a lot of tattoos are bikers and criminals. My persona comes from the life that I have led, which is pretty epic. If anything it’s been interesting, never a dull moment it seems. In any case, I don’t believe in conformity or saying what others want to hear. I believe in the truth and saying what needs to be said. Even if it hurts others, my intentions aren’t malicious.
DC: What is with all the tattoos?
SK:  I wrote a blog post on this once, which you can read here. I love art, I love that I can wear certain pieces on my skin. Each one tells a story, represents something that happened in my life. A few I have just for fun, but most of them illustrate my life story. I might not be able to tell you what I had for breakfast but I can recall every single tattoo I have ever sat for and how I felt at that moment.
DC: The one you have on your chest is a pretty bold statement.
SK: I’m a pretty bold person.
DC: You got that one for Jason, what about that tattoo stands out for you?
SK: You can read about it here, however when getting it done, the one thing that stands out was Tim asking me if I was ready. Not ready to be tattooed (I was born ready for that) but emotionally ready to do this. I had to think about it for a minute or two, I was however touched that he thought to ask. It meant a lot to me then and it still does to this day.
DC: What inspired you to start NAYOP?
SK: There was a lot of inspiration behind this, I can’t & won’t take all of the credit. Feel free to check it out on the main site under the about section. Mainly though, I wanted to make a difference. I was hoping to stop some of the soul sucking heartache that comes with being a suicide Survivor. I don’t mean someone who’s attempted suicide and lived, I mean someone who’s had to live through the loss of a loved one to suicide.
DC: You mentioned that you felt Jason’s death affected you differently then say the death of a relative. How so?
SK: The media played a rather large role in that. I’ll never forget that day for as long as I live. It was one of those days that you have a sense that something terrible is going to happen, you just don’t know what. I came home and stumbled upon a friends blog, where the newest entry was RIP Jason. I was stunned. The shock and disbelief was immediate. I didn’t believe it at first, likely because I didn’t want to and I needed answers and I needed them right now. I e-mailed my friend and in the meantime I did a Google search for Carlsbad area newspapers thinking I might get some answers. The shooting was ‘breaking news’ and the media had a field day dragging his name and reputation through the mud. It’s still a really touchy topic for me to this day. I’ve lost all respect for the media, especially in the US.
DC: Why did it become such a ‘hot’ news item?
SK: Because he shot himself at a school. TOD (time of death) was guesstimated between 12:30-1:30am. So school wasn’t in session at the time. Although his body wasn’t discovered until later on that morning. Sadly it was a group of teenager’s (13-14 year olds) who found him on their way to class. I’m thinking that it wasn’t Jason’s intention to harm anyone but himself and it angers me that they made him out to be some kind of monster. It angers me even more that they needed to print that he had blown his face clean off. No one needed to read that but the person who was interviewed needed to have their 5 mins of fame and the reporter obviously needed more to add to their story. They weren’t sure if it was a gang related shooting or a suicide and it was almost a week before they returned his body to his family.
DC: Do you think you would have processed his death differently had the media been a little more tactful?
SK: I think so. Sadly Jason’s death isn’t the first suicide I’ve had to encounter and all of the others, well I found out about those through family and close friends. Not a bunch of news hungry strangers spewing forth all the gory details. I’ll never be certain of that though.
DC: Jason’s death seemed to affect you more then others (by your own admission) why do you think that is?
SK: I think it’s because most deaths you come to expect. We all get old and death is imminent. It’s different when it’s one of your friends. You don’t expect them to die at the age of 29. I remember talking to someone about his father passing away when he was 15 and how he said that he felt a perverse amount of pride in just how OK he was with the whole thing. I actually get that. Which is why I think his death hit me the hardest, it wasn’t expected, it was violent and self inflicted.  I’m older now and we tend to look at things differently in our 30′s as opposed to in our teens. Or at the very least I do, I can’t speak for everyone.
DC: You yourself had a battle with depression after Jason died. How did you over come it and how does that now affect your point of view on what happened.
SK: It makes sense now. I’ve seen the dark side of hell and for me (thankfully) it was only a temporary thing. It was enough though for me to at least grasp what kind of hell Jason was living in. He was bi-polar and wasn’t be treated properly for the chemical imbalance that plagued him for 13+ years.  I suffered from depression as a result of grief, there’s a huge difference.  It took a long time for me to admit that this was bigger than I was and that I needed help.  I didn’t do it on my own, I couldn’t do it on my own. I had a meltdown of sorts and I got fed up and decided to fight back. I was in grief counselling for a while and that was a huge help. I also started to do volunteer work with a crisis center and the certification education that you’re required to have gave me a different kind of insight of what he went through and it helped me to heal.
DC: How is life for you now?
SK: I miss him, I miss him a lot. I still think of him everyday. I still wish he was here. I do however accept that he’s gone and I hope that he’s at peace now. I’ve made my peace with it, which was hard.  I carried a lot of guilt with me after his death.  I also learned a lot of valuable lessons along the way.  In turn, I also learned a lot about myself.  I personally find that I appreciate my life that much more, more then I ever have before.
DC: So why did you decide to start NAYOP?
SK: Because I couldn’t save him and I had hoped that by starting this foundation that I could maybe reach out and help one person and save them and their loved one’s from going through this. I know you can’t save everyone, but it doesn’t hurt to try. I know I have helped people and by telling my story I have saved lives. That makes me happy because at least Jason’s death isn’t in vain. People often think that they themselves can’t make a difference. I’m living, breathing proof that that’s NOT true.
DC: What can people do to help?
SK:  Speak up!  Spread the word! We’re on FB & Twitter, have a youtube channel, a main website and there’s also the hope project which has made a rather large impact on a lot of people. Speaking up costs you nothing, but can save everything. Don’t be afraid of what other people may think, most of the time what people really need is to know that someone cares and that there’s someone willing to be there and to listen.
DC: Anything else?
SK: There is one thing that never, ever dissapoints & that’s hope. Hold onto it forever.

Posted in Awareness, Deep thoughts with Steph, Motivational things | 1 Comment

Beauty through the eye’s of a 6 year old.

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Steph Admin

So it’s early, I’m trolling the ‘net avoiding housework  looking for things for a project I have on the go at the moment.  Then I stumbled upon this on someone’s tumblr.

“This was written by a little 6 year old girl. I babysit her and her two sisters – Rebecca and Mia, and before they go to bed they all sit down and write little prayers to God.

This was the one that Hollie wrote last time, and it absolutely broke my heart. I mean, she’s six years old and she thinks she’s not beautiful. That’s not right. But she is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. She’s got golden blonde hair, bright green eyes and a smile so beautiful that you melt a little inside when you see it.

When their mum got home, I showed her Hollie’s prayer, and she was devastated. She’s a nurse so she’s seen a lot of horrible things, but I have never seen her like that. And so I had to do something.

If you’re reading this, and if you have the slightest bit of a heart, please reblog this, so that I can prove to Hollie that she is beautiful, and that she is so special, and that God made her exactly the way she is because He knows that He made her perfect. Please give this beautiful little girl the confidence she deserves.”

Now I’m not re-blogging this on tumblr. because I don’t have an account and likely can’t be bothered to get one.  Nor do I think that re-blogging this will be beneficial to anyone, simply because true faith in yourself comes from within.  As I am fond of saying: “A million people in this world could believe in you and it doesn’t mean a damn thing until you believe in yourself.“   However this touched me on a different kind of level.  This child is 6.  SIX years old and is asking God to make her beautiful.  This reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine a few years back when her young daughter asked her to go on a diet because some kid in kindergarten said she was fat.

Is this how fucked up our society has become?  I know scores of adults who have image issues, I think we all do to a certain point.  However it’s that much more disturbing when it’s coming from the mouth of a child.  Children are our future, children are supposed to be innocent and pure.  What kind of society are we that it has such a level of toxic image issues already on the horizon?

Something to think about.

-Steph

Posted in Eating/image disorders, stop the hate | 1 Comment

It’s not going to turn out the way you thought…

Posted on July 14, 2011 by Steph Admin
*Re-posted with gracious permission from Kate   NAOYP has no direct affiliation with Kate or any of her subsidiaries or business.  Stephanie just felt this was a lovely, meaningful post worth sharing, please enjoy!  

It will happen later. His best friend will ask you out instead. You’ll be kissed in the movies instead of on a beach. You’ll end up going to a different school because the one you thought you’d get into didn’t work out.

She’ll move away. Someone else will move in next door. She’ll be a little weird at first, a little more shy, but ultimately really good at riding bikes and playing dolls.

That part you always wanted will go to that other girl instead. And you’ll rock it out in the chorus like your life depended on it. Because on some level it does.

The road you were going to take will be flooded and closed. The inn where you were going to stay will be under renovations. He’ll be taller than you thought. And have a funny accent. But will be a good kisser nonetheless.

You’ll get a flat tire on the way to that crucial meeting and end up peeing your pants laughing with the gas station attendant over a copy of Us Magazine. And someone else will fill in for you because they always do.

You won’t get that dream job like you thought you would. It will go to someone else with far less creative drive and vision than you. Someone far better suited for a cubicle than you.

You’ll be put in groups with people who put your panties in a wrinkle. You’ll sit next to someone on the plane who you’d never talk to except that they won’t shut up…and you’ll end up staying in touch for years and taking family vacations together.

Five years after you graduate life won’t look anything like you would have imagined. You’ll be single when you thought you’d be married. You’ll have kids when you thought you’d be in the Peace Corps. That trip to Laos will get delayed because you’ve got to stay home and take care of your grandmother. Laos will be there. You’re grandmother won’t always.

He’ll move over seas and oddly the Atlantic Ocean between you will bring you closer than you ever dreamed possible. You won’t get engaged, married, or pregnant when you thought.  You’ll miss the bus/train/plane/ferry that you thought you just HAD to be on.

You’ll fall off the turnip truck. You’ll jump on a different bandwagon than you intended.  You’ll get fired when you thought you ought to be getting hired.

You’ll realize you forgot the outfit you had planned to wear and that the shoes are all wrong now that you have a full-length mirror to see the whole outfit. Your shirt will be wrinkled and you’ll spill red wine on your white jeans.

Your dog will eat your five-year plan. You’ll drop your Blackberry in the toilet (at least once.) Your computer will crash and you’ll delete the first draft of your magnum opus. You’ll accidentally delete your hard drive and end up with a clean slate.

You’ll show up late to the date with the guy you were sure was going to fit into your husband suit and realize he’s less than graceful under stress and not so flexible. (Better to know now than later.)

When you thought you’d be baking pie and living behind your very own white picket fence you’ll find yourself doing something so entirely different you couldn’t have even imagined it a year before.  There will be moments when you’ll look around and not even recognize your own life…in a good way.

You’ll take a wrong turn and end up in an entirely different city than you intended. You’ll dial the wrong number and end up in love with an entirely different person than you intended.

You’ll flunk out and end up taking five years instead of four to graduate. You’ll have your heart broken when you were sure you were with the one and then meet the other one a month later. You’ll move to a new city to start a new business with those perfect new business partners and then it will all go to shit. And you’ll move across the country again only to realize that that’s where you belonged the whole time.

You’ll drive as far away from home as possible thinking that it will make you feel free. Then you’ll get homesick and drive back four months later because you suddenly feel trapped.

You’ll imagine the open road, country music playing loud, you signing at the top of your lungs, and flirting with a new man in every town. And then you’ll invite someone to come with you on a whim and realize driving around the country by yourself was a terrible idea anyway…and that its way more fun when you’re traveling with someone you love.

You won’t do it at the right time.

You’ll be late.

You’ll be early.

You’ll get re-routed.

You’ll get delayed.

You’ll change your mind.

You’ll change your heart.

It’s not going to turn out the way you thought it would.

It will be better.


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Dear depression, grief and sorrow:

Posted on July 4, 2011 by Steph Admin
*orginally written June 4th 2011 updated with additions:

I’m not sorry that I finally had to kick you out of my life.  Mostly because you almost ruined it.  I thought I was going to be OK after I came to terms with Jason’s death, I foolishly thought that the minute that happened that life would magically fall back into place for me once again.

I’m smart, I’m strong and countless other things.  Yet you held me in captivity for far, far too long.  It wasn’t bad enough that fate decided that my friends life should be snuffed out far too soon, wasn’t bad enough that living conditions in my home got to the point that they were UN-bearable, that I live in a province that winter seems to live on far past it’s expectancy, that three more people that I knew had to take it upon themselves to play God and cut their lives too soon.  No matter what I did, you were always there.  Hanging around and turning me from a bright and vibrant person into something so dark that I couldn’t stand myself anymore.

So much to the point that I was sitting there with a proverbial noose around my neck, waiting for the courage to kick that stool out from underneath me and just end it all.  The others did, why not I?  I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that life/fate/the universe/God or some other spiritual being had dealt out so many lousy avenues in my life and yet somehow I got up, got out of bed and made it through the day.  I was still alive, however I had ceased to actually live.

It’s so easy to say to someone that there’s help out there.  Because there IS.  That however takes effort.  Far too much effort for some.  You’re left to wonder if you’ll ever truly live again, if your life will ever be the same.  Except it never is, life as you know it ceases to be the same ever again.

Updated: July 5th 2011

It’s hard to accept that you life will never be the same again…  Yet, you want it to be.  Desperately so, you think to yourself that if you stick it out just one more day; you’re going to make it.  Some things are just far greater then you can ever begin to imagine.  In spite of all that you have managed to overcome thus far in life, it’s no match for this.

At least for me. 

Faking it becomes your new full time job, one that you don’t want and certainly didn’t ask for.  You think that people buy into it, yet somehow you know deep down inside that they don’t.  In reality you’re hurting them as much if not more then you’re hurting yourself.  I lived this way for far, far too long.  I was dead inside emotionally, I had lost my ability to care, to cry, and several other things.  I hated myself, hated what I was doing to myself and others and yet I felt hopeless and helpless (in spite of the fact that they are not mutually exclusive) until one day you get so fed up with being this way that you can’t take it anymore.  Something happens, something that’s in reality quite trivial in hindsight and you completely loose it on someone who doesn’t deserve it.  Therein almost totally destroying a relationship that you have with that person.

3 days later, you have the opportunity to see that person face to face and that’s when you fall apart.  Even though in your mind your trying to convince yourself not to cry, thinking to yourself I haven’t been able to cry for months and all of a sudden you Can’t. Stop. Crying.  It’s in that moment that you hit rock bottom so hard that you have road rash on your ass for the next month.  Who knew that you would hit rock bottom wearing a fuzzy bathrobe, sporting bed head, standing in a puddle from the snow on the other person’s feet, crying all over them saying that you’re sorry again and again because you are.  Sorry that you hurt that person for too long, sorry that you waited too damn long to get yourself the help that you damn well knew that you needed and waited far too long to get.

Everything happens for a reason and I believe that what happened was supposed to happen.  In fact, that random incident on March 2nd 2011 quite likely saved my life.  Which sounds ridiculous perhaps, however it made *me*aware that I couldn’t do this anymore.  I had become a prisoner in my own mind and I needed to get the hell out of that prison.  So I did.  On March 5th, the day I hit rock bottom I had an epiphany of sorts.  I was recalling a conversation with said person that we had about 12 step programs and how there’s one for pretty much everything.  That’s when the serenity prayer crept into my head:

”  God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.”

Then it all made sense to me.  It all seemed so painfully easy and simple; let go of what I can’t change for the past is that, UN-changeable.  However you can learn from those past experiences and move onto something better.  There’s something wonderful about letting go and chasing down your demons.  I made a promise to myself at that moment to get help, and I had to look pretty hard to find something that would cater to my needs and my budget.  Which was frustrating, I didn’t however give up and thought I had found something that would work.  There was no harm in trying, I had nothing to loose at this point.

The next day I grew a pair and made the call.  That was hard, reaching out sucks.  Especially when that person is a virtual stranger to you.  However, the great thing about strangers is that they don’t know you from a hole in the ground so they don’t say all the cliche things to try and fix you, they just want to help you because you’re putting forth the effort to help yourself.  The next day, Monday, was it.  I had a really hard time walking through that door.  Even a harder time walking down those stairs and into that room.

But I did.   And it was wonderful!

There was something strangely freeing having someone ask you what brought you there and having the balls to say  “I’m broken, please help me so I can be whole again.”  and not feeling like a freak.  It was in fact a relief.  I did it.  Not because I felt that I had to, because I wanted to.  Which made all the difference in the world.  Later that night, I was privy to a conversation dealing with grief when someone had asked: “How do you pick up the pieces and move on?” I waited for someone to answer because I didn’t feel that *I* personally knew what it was and the person who responded kept it simple, all they said was:”You don’t.  You start over.”

Which made So. Much. Sense.  
So I did exactly that.

I kicked all the toxic people out of my life that were doing nothing but weighing me down.  It was a shame to have to break up with some of my friends but they weren’t good for me and I feel better not having them in my life and having no contact with them since then.  I moved out of the hell hole I once called home, discarded all the things that didn’t matter and managed to hang onto the job and the people I loved.  People who loved me in return and made me feel grateful that I was still alive to see it, acknowledged it and be a part of it.

It’s been a long, hard, tedious road.  I’ve been in recovery for 121 days, and every single one of them has been nothing short of extrodinary.  Far from perfect, however I have yet to return to that dark place and in truth I hope that I won’t ever encounter it again.  Technically as far as my depression goes, most would consider me cured since I do not suffer from a chemical imbalance, I was the unfortunate victim in too many circumstances.  Depression after all, isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a sign that you’ve been too strong for too damn long.

Most importantly, I have an amazing life.  A life where I wake up happy to be alive, a life where I no longer take anything for granted, a life where I choose NOT to be taken for granted any longer, a life where I live by my own rules.  Yes it’s selfish, I am not however hurting anyone by doing so, especially myself and that’s what counts the most.

I gave grief the finger a long time ago, said good bye to sorrow and as for you depression I only have one thing to say to you:

Fuck you! I took my life back.

-Steph

 

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