The Hopeline, 1-800-SUICIDE, is fighting to survive, itself, right now. They have an appeal out that a friend of mine helped produce, and I was privileged to be allowed to see an early draft of the video and offer feedback. The end result makes the case very plain, and here is a collaborative effort between the founder of 1-800-SUICIDE and the founder of Post Secret, which has received anonymous, creative thank-you cards that credit 1-800-SUICIDE with helping them go on, forward and up.
In 1998, I hit my own nadir and realized I’d been in a struggle against mental illness for the better part of my adolescent and young adult life. It was the beginning of the journey out for me too, and I don’t remember who I called that tear-stained night I hit bottom, but whoever you were, you lifted me up.
There’s a lot of people who think that “saving” people should be job one when it comes to doing God’s work in the world. But a person who is hovering on the thin end of a wire, struggling to come up with a reason to cope with another miserable tomorrow, and nothing but more miserable tomorrows on the horizon, often can’t make a connection with God, or if they do, it’s resentful. See, that’s the whole point of despair–you’ve lost everything, even your faith.
One of my favorite taglines about my journey back to faith is that I had spent my life placing faith in people, and kept finding my world falling apart when those people let me down. But I’m glad I didn’t stop believing in people just the same. Yes, it probably would have been easier. God knows I still have flashes of grief when I think about the graphic novel that Bram and I will never collaborate on, and wistful pangs to know that Greg, my fellow insomniac from freshman year at MWC, is the one classmate I will never reconnect with. And incredible feelings of joy that a younger me managed to work through her issues so that I could grow up and be strong, witty, fun, intelligent, talented, and oh-so self-effacing. 
Keep the Hopeline going. Please donate.