If I had to live through going to Earl Marriott Secondary, putting me on the main stage at SeaFest is the least White Rock can do! Seriously though, Seafest is cool and highschool was a nightmare. Come see me and we can do some musical group therapy.
I’m a musician and a mental health advocate who is lucky enough to have the opportunity to perform shows at high schools and spread awareness for psychosis and bipolar disorder. Whenever I get up on stage, I look at the three hundred to one thousand students looking back at me and I try my best to tell them what I needed to hear when I was fourteen. This also has to fit into the span of a couple of minutes, because we have an entire hour of demonstrations and dance competitions that we need to get through (the former so that we can explain the symptoms of psychosis, and the latter so we can make sure the students are awake). I often end up speaking incredibly fast, talking about my own experiences with psychosis brought on by the bipolar disorder in my genetic history, about my bipolar depression and the suicide attempts that followed, and of course about how I now treat my bipolar disorder and have accepted it. I often end up talking through the first bell as the students start getting up and leaving, and still have more to say. When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I had no idea what it was and only heard the word “crazy.” I walked away from the clinic with a bottle of Seroquel and took the whole thing, not wanting to live in a world where my ex-boyfriend was right about my insanity. I do my best to make sure that if there is a fourteen year old Sarah out in the audience, she will recognize the symptoms of bipolar disorder before she loses her best friends and her first love, and she will go to the doctor and get help right away. But I never have time to say what fourteen year old Sarah needed to hear most, and when students come up to me after the show and explain that they related to my story but they “only have anxiety,” I feel like I’ve failed her, and them! I’d never heard of anxiety as a teenager, but if I had, I would have definitely put the word “only” or “just” in front of it.
I’ve “only” lived with GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) since the age of four. I don’t know what life is like without it, and that makes it easy to ignore. When bipolar disorder reared its ugly head when I was seventeen and eighteen, I felt like I was losing control of my life, like my brain was a villain who had taken me hostage. It was easy to tell that there was something wrong. But if you’ve had a hard time sleeping, breathing, digesting food, answering the phone, and looking people in the eye your entire life, you think it’s normal. Doesn’t everyone imagine their friends and family dying every time they say goodbye to them? Doesn’t everyone go through life with a racing heart beat and their shoulders up to their ears? I now know they don’t, but it took me a long time to figure it out. Even after I learned that I was more of a scaredy-cat than everyone else, I was still under the impression that I could control it. I’ve been told a thousand times to “calm down,” “chill out,” “stop worrying about it,” or “just think about something else,” as if this is something that I should be able to do. Even though our society uses anxiety as a buzz word these days, it’s still hard for people without an anxiety disorder to grasp the concept. And anxiety disorder is not just invisible to everyone else, but it also tricks you into thinking it’s not a big deal. Anxiety tells you that you are lazy, and a coward, and that if you just tried a little harder you could be like anyone else. Even right now, my anxiety is telling me that I’m being dramatic and I should delete this entire blog post. But I know better than to believe my own thoughts by now, so I just tell my brain, in my most sarcastic voice, “thanks for your help!”
Those students who come up to me and tell my they “only” have anxiety have things a little twisted, and if I had more time during my presentations, I would tell them this: Anxiety is an emotion that we all have. It’s normal to feel anxious before tests, or on stage, or before a dentist appointment. We all need to feel fear, it’s the reason why we don’t run towards black bears and try to give them a hug. But we shouldn’t feel fear all the time. Having high levels of anxiety all the time regardless of the situation, which is what we call generalized anxiety disorder, is not good for us. I won’t go into how it can wreck havoc on your body because honestly, I’m anxious enough as it is and it doesn’t help to think about it. But the good news is that there are things we can do to treat anxiety disorders. It’s not quite the same as treating bipolar disorder, which requires following a routine of heavy medication and blood tests, but it’s just as difficult and possibly more confusing. It takes time, it takes opening up and accepting help from others, and it requires a lot of homework. One of the most important things about any mental illness is to know that it’s okay to not be okay. Living with anxiety means that it’s okay if you can’t get out of bed because you are too scared. We would never tell some one with a broken leg that they are not allowed to be in pain, or that they should go jogging with everyone else. But we would also never tell someone with a broken leg that they don't need to see a doctor or get a cast. Anxiety disorder is a big deal, but unfortunately we don't get to put casts on our heads, which means that we have to remind ourselves every day that it’s not “just” anxiety disorder.
After years of treatment, my bipolar disorder is in check. I’ve found the right combination of medications and I haven’t had a suicide attempt or a hypo-manic episode in years. But my anxiety disorder is a beast I know I will struggle with every day for the rest of my life. As I type this, I can feel it in my shoulders and on my chest. One of the most important things I’ve learned on my mental health journey is that I can’t wait for my anxiety disorder to go away to live my life. I’m going to live my life right now, use my skills to withstand the pain, and keep doing the things I believe in. On the rare occasion that I do have time to have a real conversation with students struggling with anxiety disorder, I point them in the direction of learning how to cope with anxiety, rather than trying to ignore it, avoid it, or minimize it. Intense physical exercise (don’t think yoga, think rock climbing or running marathons) has been my saving grace. I dance for at least an hour every day, and it helps me regulate both my anxiety and depression. I also use evidence-based therapies like mindfulness, DBT (Dialiectical Behavioral Therapy) and ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) to challenge my brain on a regular basis. These skills can be learned with the help of apps like Mindshift, Headspace, Wysa, Calm, and more great apps are being created every day. I also encourage anyone dealing with a mental illness to join a therapy group. We live in a world where we think that everyone has everything figured out except for us, and there is nothing more powerful than meeting other people who think the way you do and have similar struggles. My first therapy group was the mindfulness group at the Vancouver YMCA, but since I have taken part in over ten different groups. When I was in high school, I was certain that I was broken, lazy, and even cursed. It’s “only” taken me ten years to get to where I am now, functioning but still struggling to keep anxiety at bay, and I know I have a long journey ahead of me. Thriving with this stubborn mental illness will be my life long work. There is no such thing as “just” anxiety.
I had a really beautiful conversation with Non Wels from sunny California. I shared some things I've never talked about on the air before, so let me know what you think! Except if you are in my immediate family... in that case please text me before listening to this episode. I'm serious!
On the grill
Who are you
I’m a singer/songwriter and a mental health advocate. I was the lead singer of the indie-pop band The Oh Wells, and I now perform solo under the name Sarah Jickling and her Good Bad Luck. I know that name’s a mouthful, but it’s my bad luck (aka my bipolar disorder, anxiety disorder and OCD) that got me to the good place I’m at now. I recently released my first solo album, When I Get Better, which documents my bipolar recovery journey, and I use my music to spread mental health awareness. I get to sing and educate high school students all over B.C. on behalf of the British Columbia Schizophrenia Society, and I also perform with UBC’s Wingspan Dis/ability Arts, Culture, & Public Pedagogy (wingspan.educ.ubc.ca) in the hopes of creating a more accessible music industry for artists with disabilities. You can find me around Vancouver in hospital waiting rooms and pole-dancing studios.
I think my mother took me to a Charlotte Diamond (of “Four Hugs a Day” fame) when I was four years old, but that was the extent of the live music I saw with my parents. My first real concert, the first time I felt the bass shake my entire body and the first time I screamed at the lead singer, was in 2007 in my high school cafeteria. A band full of very cute boys called There Their were playing a set at lunch time, and I was totally swept away by the experience. I practically swooned, and my best friend told me to tone it down because I was embarrassing her. Ten years later, the lead singer of the band, Harley Small, produced my most recent album. He still makes me swoon.
In 2012, I went to see Kate Nash at the Commodore Ballroom. The entire audience was full of girls, who sang along to every single song in a fake British accent. Kate had covered her piano in lights and flowers and was unabashedly feminine. That is the concert where I realized it’s okay to make “chick music.” It’s okay if the majority of your fans are women. In fact, it's awesome! It does not make you any less of a musician.
Top three records
Regina Spektor Soviet Kitsch I was a classical pianist as a kid, and I never considered myself a singer at all. When I first heard Soviet Kitsch, Regina’s classical-piano-influenced songs blew my mind. I downloaded the sheet music and taught myself how to sing and play the whole thing. This was how I learned to play piano and sing at the same time. This album taught me how to be a singer/songwriter… and yes, that’s why I sing like Regina Spektor. She was my teacher.
Lily Allen Alright, Still As a high school student, I listened to this album over and over, and I started to write in Lily Allen’s style: very wordy with a dark sense of humour and a bubblegum-pop exterior. Sometimes I still curse Lily Allen for making me fall in love with her writing style… I write so many lyrics I barely have time to breathe when I’m performing. Thanks a lot, Lily.
Beyoncé Lemonade For so long I thought that my bipolar disorder was the reason I could write songs, as if it were some kind of gift or super-power. Once I decided to stabilize myself with medication, I was worried I’d never write another song again. I went without writing for almost three years because I had learned to rely on my manic states to write songs for me. I would black out and wake up with a song, but once I was medicated I would just sit at the piano and nothing would happen, exactly as I’d fear. This album broke my three-year-long writer's block. I was so moved and inspired by it that I pushed through my fears and wrote a song. All hail Queen Bey!
All-time favourite video
Beyoncé "Hold Up" Beyonce’s magnificent visual accompaniment to her song “Hold Up” recently usurped Coldplay’s “The Scientist” video as my all-time favourite. Chris Martin was my high school crush, and I could watch him walk backwards in slow motion for hours (and I spent most of grade 10 doing exactly that). But Beyoncé smashing car windows in slow motion? I don’t think it gets better than that. “I’d rather be crazy,” she sings. Beyoncé, welcome to the crazy club. We are so excited to have you.
What’s in your fridge
Four Soda Stream" brand bottles of chilled water. My boyfriend bought me a sparkling water machine for Christmas to help me kick my Coca-Cola addiction. All you have to do is screw the top of these water bottles into the soda stream machine (which looks like the girl robot from WALL-E) and in a few seconds you have a bottle of a delicious carbonated beverage. While I love sparkling water, I am still hopelessly addicted to Coca-Cola and sugar in general. I’ve now asked my boyfriend to keep anything remotely sweet that makes its way into our apartment in a locked box because I can’t be trusted around sugary things. I once ate an entire jar of icing in a matter of minutes with just my fingers. This sugar addiction is probably a job for more than just sparkling water. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.
An expired bottle of bee pollen: I don't even know what bee pollen is supposed to do to your body, and I’ve been meaning to throw it out but it was really expensive. I bought this during my "I don't need psychiatric medication" phase, where I tried to cure my bipolar and anxiety disorders with smoothies. I basically bought everything Whole Foods had to offer, stuffed it in a blender and hoped for the best. It says on the bottom that it expired in 2014. In any case, the smoothies didn't work.
Five different bottles of pro-biotics (also mostly expired). If you or someone you know is mentally ill, you've probably heard the whole "the gut is the new brain" thing. If not, that probably sounds insane. The idea is that you can treat mental illnesses by being nice to the bacteria in the stomach. My mom read this book called The Gut Balance REVOLUTION and now she thinks probiotics can cure everything. I'm on the fence.
Sarah Jickling plays the Cultch (along with Christa Couture and Kristina Shelden) on Thursday (March 8) as part of an International Women's Day showcase titled Luminescence. You can stream When I Get Better by Sarah Jickling and her Good Bad Luck here.
LUMINESCENCE: Chanteuse to the Power of Three features Jickling alongside Christa Couture and Kristina Shelden in an event produced by UBC’s Wingspan Dis/Ability Arts, Culture and Public Pedagogy. Each of the three brings her own story of triumph over physical and mental adversity. Couture is a cancer survivor and amputee; Shelden suffered a spinal cord injury.
And Jickling? Jickling is a self-described “neurotic songstress” who has become an advocate for mental health awareness, using her music to chronicle her personal journey with anxiety and bipolar disorder.
Armed with a ukulele, a piano and partner Greg McLeod on violin and trombone, Jickling will use the stage to share her music and her story about the complicated journey that began, for her, some 20 years ago.
AN ALIEN CHILD
“I can’t remember life without it.”
“It,” for Jickling, is anxiety. She was about six when she first started experiencing panic attacks. She didn’t have the words for them then; she only knew that sometimes, the world wasn’t the way it should be. Sometimes it was like she was experiencing the world in slow motion. She told people she must have a brain tumour.
“I didn’t really have the vocabulary to explain panic attacks, and of course my parents didn’t know,” the now-26-year-old recalls. “I would also dissociate. I would think that I was an alien and everyone else on the planet was a different species than I was.”
"I would think that I was an alien and everyone else on the planet was a different species than I was.”
When she tried to explain those ideas, the adults around her would simply think she was an imaginative child.
Which, in itself, was true. Even then, she was a poet. Before she could spell enough words to write them down for herself, she would dictate poems for her mother to record.
Those two parts of her – the anxiety, and the creativity – would become inextricably entwined as she grew up.
FROM HERE TO 'CRAZY'
She was, she figures, more “together” to outsiders than she was to herself. She was in a band with her friend in high school, finding unexpected attention for what she remembers as “cute” songs (“my lyrics were about boys and kittens and Harry Potter,” is how she described them in a post on her website).
“It was a strange way for me to connect with people, because I was very shy,” she says. “I always say I have off-stage fright.”
She kept writing and making music. People didn’t know other things about her. Things like the fact that she didn’t sleep for days at a time – not sleeping was a problem that had plagued her since childhood – and that she’d cry on the floor at night. She had periods of depression, even suicidal thoughts. But she didn’t talk to counsellors, or anyone else really.
“I thought it was maybe how everybody felt, or it wasn’t really that bad,” she remembers.
It wasn’t till she started university that the anxiety grew beyond her control. She dropped out very shortly after starting and was living with major mood swings, alternating from hypomanic highs to depressive lows.
By her late teens and early 20s, her life was spiralling out of control. One friend told her to get to a doctor, saying she couldn’t be friends with Sarah the way she was and that Sarah needed professional help.
“I heard a lot that I was crazy, but that doesn’t have a lot of meaning behind it,” Jickling says.
Eventually, she did seek help, and she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
“I said nope, that’s not me, that doctor is wrong,” Jickling recalls.
Jickling notes that one of the big challenges with bipolar disorder is the long waitlists for care – by the time you get through the six-month waitlist for help, you’ve cycled out of depression and into hypomania and you’re convinced the world is yours for the taking.
Jickling had to be diagnosed three times with bipolar disorder – at 19, at 21 and at 23 - before she finally started on her road to recovery.
THE ARTIST AND THE ILLNESS
Treatment, for Jickling, has meant a multi-pronged approach: medication, therapy and a variety of creative pursuits, including dance and – of course - music. As she faced her illness head-on, Jickling found herself drawn to write songs about the journey.
“It’s kind of like your mental illness gets turned up with a volume knob and it’s all you can hear,” she says. “It becomes the subject of your songs.”
Through a number of years, she says, she connected her mental illness and her music; she had an image of the stereotypical “crazy artist” in her head and feared that if she got rid of the illness, she might also lose the music.
“I connected this sort of chaotic life and chaotic brain with the ability to write songs,” she said. “My recovery has been knowing that I am an artist, with or without mental illness.”
The recovery journey became the album she released independently in the summer of 2017, When I Get Better.
LIFE AS AN ADVOCATE
For an album that began from an intensely personal place, When I Get Better has propelled Jickling into an intensely public life.
She released the album with a zine illustrated by a high school friend, Amelia Butcher (a friend whom Jickling credits as being “the person who stuck by me” – the one who brought Jickling food when she wasn’t eating; the one who called the police when she thought Jickling had overdosed). The zine, called It’s OK – a handbook for human beings, is a tongue-in-cheek look at acceptance and coping.
After its release, Jickling was invited to speak on CBC and other platforms, and she found herself becoming an advocate for people with mental illness and for mental health awareness in general.
Jickling now performs with ReachOut Psychosis, a touring show presented by HereToHelp and the B.C. Schizophrenia Society that travels to B.C. high schools to help educate students and teachers about psychosis.
“The biggest thing that music has given me is a voice and a platform to connect with people,” Jickling says.
She uses her platform to share the things that she needed to hear, knowing that her experiences will reach someone else who needs them.
“The idea I was struggling with is, ‘Is there a better?’ It was coming to terms with, this life’s up and down, just like everybody’s life. There’s no moment when you arrive at ‘better.’”
“Often I’m writing something that I need to tell myself, things that have taken me a long time to understand,” she says. Like, for instance, the title track to When I Get Better. “The idea I was struggling with is, ‘Is there a better?’ It was coming to terms with, this life’s up and down, just like everybody’s life. There’s no moment when you arrive at ‘better.’”
It isn’t easy. Jickling points out the music industry is difficult already, being fraught with competition and rejection, never mind throwing mental illness into the mix.
“Success has been something that I’ve had to struggle with,” she admits. “I’ve decided that success for me means I’m touching other people’s lives and making a difference in other people’s lives.”
Every time she gets feedback from someone who thanks her, who relates to her experiences and tells her that message is what they needed to hear – that’s what keeps Jickling persevering. On days when nothing is working, when Jickling wants to go back to old habits – to self-harming, or to allowing panic attacks to keep her inside the house for days on end – those are the days she keeps on going because of her music and her advocacy work.
“Every day I tell people that I am there for them, so I cannot not be there for myself,” she says. ‘I’m going to listen to my own advice and take care of myself. I’m going to share my stories instead of pretending everything’s great.”
HOPE IN THE DARKNESS
Even when Jickling’s subject matter is dark, her music remains light-hearted and whimsical.
“That’s the stuff I like to listen to, stuff that makes me feel upbeat and happy,” she says. “I really want to lift people up with my music.”
What’s surprised her the most in this whole journey is, perhaps, the fact that she loves performing as much as she does.
“I suppose it’s rather surprising that I enjoy being on stage so much. I’m a quiet person, I’ve always been very shy,” she muses. “I feel so comfortable in situations where I’m able to tell my story and perform, in a way, but perform my truth.”
That, in a nutshell, is Jickling’s mission for her March 8 performance at the Cultch.
“I’m just going to be playing from my heart and telling my stories,” she says simply.
That, she knows, is what she’s here to do.
CHECK IT OUT
WHAT: LUMINESCENCE: Chanteuse to the Power of Three, a show featuring Christa Couture, Sarah Jickling and Kristina Shelden.
WHEN: Thursday, March 8. Doors open 7 p.m., show at 7:30 p.m.
WHERE: The Cultch, 1895 Venables St., Vancouver
TICKETS: $10 to $30, buy through thecultch.com/tickets or call 604-251-1363.
So proud to share the stage with these women!! Here's a little more about them:
Christa Couture is an award-winning performing and recording artist, a non-fiction writer, a cyborg and “half-breed” of Cree descent. Her fourth album “Long Time Leaving” was released in 2016 on Black Hen Music; her writing has been published in Room Magazine, Shameless, CBC 2017 and the anthology “The M Word.” As a speaker and storyteller, she has addressed audiences for CBC’s
DNTO, Moses Znaimer’s conference, Ideacity, and Imaginate in Port Hope, Ontario. Winner of the 2008 Canadian Aboriginal Music Award for Best Folk Acoustic Album, Christa Couture has built a reputation for transforming tragedy into musical triumph, capturing tiny snapshots of grief and elevating each to a unique work of art sometimes desolate but more often uplifting in its encapsulation of a single treasured memory or moment of hope.
For fifteen years, Christa’s work has explored intimate spaces with sharp-shooting wit, effortless
grace, and heart-on- sleeve intensity. With her latest album, she dove into what she calls “ordinary
heartache.” Meaning, for most musicians, the break-up album is the quintessential songwriter cliché – bringing with it the burden to eek out originality from an oversubscribed muse.
But for Christa — whose first three albums reflected on her teenage battle with cancer, the loss of her left leg to the disease, and the deaths of both of her young children under separate circumstances — the opportunity to write songs about such “normal” heartache seemed like a welcome reprieve.
Kristina Shelden has a voice that smolders in jazzy, soulful, and indie folk genres.
Kristina started performing at an early age in choirs, musicals, and jazz bands. After putting herself through a year of basic musicianship in college, however, she suffered a c4/c5 spinal cord injury that left her with debilitating nerve damage, threatening to end her advancing musical ambitions. Through hard work and determination, and despite her limitations, she is now performing, working on the board of directors for the Vancouver Adapted Music Society, and finally laying down the tracks for her first album.
Either listen to the whole inspiring hour of interviews, or skip to minute 40 to hear me share my story on Bell Let's Talk day while on the road with Reach Out Psychosis. This entire interview happened while I was standing outside a high school, letting my other band members haul our heavy gear into the gym (thanks guys). I'm so grateful that my Discorder article got into the right hands so that I could share my experiences on the air. I hope to be writing more soon... stay tuned! Or whatever!
A lot of people come to me when they aren't sure where to turn, or when they don't know how to help their friend/family member, and I'm grateful that I can be of help because I've got all this information in my brain and no degree or qualification to use it in a job (being a three time university drop out is sooo fun). As far as free programs in the greater Vancouver area, I can't stress enough how helpful I found the YMCA Youth Mindfullness program. I always tell people who are experiencing anxiety to put their names on this waitlist. It takes a little while to get into the program, but it is so worth it. This is for people who can get to the Robert Lee YMCA or the Surrey YMCA once a week, ages either 13-17 or 18-30. If your brain goes straight to zen yoga masters when you hear the word mindfulness, and that totally turns you off it, then this course is for you. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy or ACT is all about using mindfulness to accept unpleasant emotions and continue to follow your values while experiencing anxiety, depression, or whatever else is on your plate. I feel a little like I'm in an infomercial right now, but trust me on this one. Click here to apply to the youth mindfulness program, or google "teen mindfulness program ymca" to find resources for ages 13-17. If you are over 30 or don't live in Vancouver, read the book The Happiness Trap with a friend and do the homework. That's a great way to learn ACT if this course isn't available to you. The Happiness Trap also comes in comic book form for those who are too depressed or anxious to focus on reading a book, like I was when I went through this program. Look up any ACT or DBT programs in your area as well... there will most likely be a big waitlist so just put your name on there! You can always say no later. I actually didn't show up to the info session the first time my name was called because I was just too depressed. But they called me again for the next intake, and it changed my life. Okay, I'm done with my infomercial. I hope it helped. If you ever need any help finding resources, just email me or reach out through instagram.
P.S. My cartoon hair is so awesome, thank you to Minh Ngo for drawing this journey.
It's funny how you can pine for a publication to mention you, spend your time sending them emails and tweets and prayers, and get nowhere. But when you focus on your work and speak your truth, suddenly that publication writes a lovely, heart-warming post about you without any prompting from yourself. Sometimes things work out. Thank you Mike and thank you Georgia Straight.
Describe yourself in three words
Messy Glitter Bomb
How did you get your start in music?
When I was sixteen, my best friend and I decided it would be fun to start a band. I had been taking piano lessons since I was five and I’d wanted to be a writer since before I knew how to write, so I put my music skills and my writing passion together and wrote a few songs. My best friend played guitar and I played piano, and we became a cute little duo worthy of the Juno soundtrack (the movie, not the Canadian award). We put our songs up on myspace under the name “The Oh Wells,” and soon we had people stopping us in our high school’s hallways to tell us they’d listened to our music and they liked our songs. We were both very shy, and this sudden attention felt unreal and exciting. Eventually we started playing shows, and I found the stage was a comfortable place for me to be real and connect with people. I always say I have off-stage fright, and once I started performing I couldn’t imaging giving it up.
You are a very active mental health advocate. Can you tell us a bit about your mental health journey, and how it affects you and your work today?
I’ve always had anxiety. I’ve never known anything but the feeling of fight or flight, so growing up I never realized my constant anxiety was any different than how other people lived their lives. As I got older, my mental health started to get in the way of my life. In grade 12, I would go days without sleeping, and spend nights crying on the floor. I was a straight A student in high school, but once I reached university my mind became so chaotic that I stopped showing up and instead spent days in bed doing nothing. In my late teens and early twenties my unpredictable moods swings destroyed relationships, broke up my band, and left me constantly leaving jobs and dropping out of schools. I didn’t know who I was anymore.Today I’m in recovery for bipolar disorder type 2 and anxiety/panic disorder, and the structure of my life has completely changed. I now know that I can’t tour for weeks or months on end like most musicians do, that I can’t have a full time job, and that I need to find alternative ways to live my life in order to stay stable. I am on five different medications, I see a counsellor every other week and I attend group therapy every week. I now use music as a way to dismantle stigma and share my experiences. I hope that my work can make other people feel less alone. Life is so difficult with or without a mental illness, and art is one of the only things that makes sense to me anymore.
What would you say to youth who are going through similar struggles?
See a counsellor. If you don’t like them, see another one. Go online and join support groups. Talk to your friends. Don’t keep everything bottled up inside, because that’s how you end up hurting yourself and others. You can’t do this alone, but the good news is you are not alone. There is always someone who will want to help you through this, whether it’s a doctor or a friend or a counsellor or an Instagram account (there are some seriously amazing people online). It will be hard and it will take a long time to notice progress, but you deserve a life that isn’t full of pain and fear, and it’s worth the wait.
Your new album is called “When I Get Better”. What does this mean to you?
A lot of the songs on this record were written in the horrible period between being diagnosed with a mental illness and actually treating the mental illness. You know something is wrong with you but you don’t know how to fix it, and all you can think about is how amazing life is going to be when you “get better.” But of course, there is no moment when you finally arrive at “better”.What I’ve learned over the course of the past few years is that when you have a chronic mental illness, you have to work at it every day. Recovery isn’t a straight line or a destination. Recovery is waking up every day and making the decision to keep trying. When I made this album, I decided to keep trying to be a musician, an artist, and to start being an advocate.
You recently created a zine regarding coping/healing from mental illness. What motivated you to do this?
Now that I don’t have a full time job, I don’t have enough money to print a bunch of CDs, especially when I know that people don’t even have cd drives in their computers anymore. I have no way to play a CD, so I wanted to think of a more creative way of giving out my music. I decided to create the zine because I was inspired by the Riot Grrl movement in the 90’s and the way they used zines to spread important counterculture information. I feel that speaking openly about self care and mental illness is a little bit counterculture, and it’s also incredibly important information that I think everyone should know.
My zine, It’s Okay: a handbook for human beings, is a way for me to spread knowledge about Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and radical acceptance, but it’s also a fun way for me to sell my music (there’s a download code on the back).
People might know you from your work work with The Oh Wells. What was the hardest part moving of moving from a band to solo work? How did you deal with roadblocks?
The hardest part of being a solo artist is believing that you can fill the stage by yourself. Learning to be loud and take up space is difficult for most women, and going from a four piece band to one piano and a laptop was really scary. There are no loud drums or harmonies to cover your mistakes. It kind of feels like being naked. Everyone is paying attention to you and only you, so every little decision you make on stage is amplified. I decided to invite friends to come sing harmonies with me, and now my boyfriend Greg Mcleod plays violin and trombone with me, but that’s mostly because being a solo artist can be really lonely between soundcheck and showtime. It’s good to have someone to laugh or cry with before and after the show.
You are a performer, mental health advocate and public speaker. What are some of your favourite coping strategies during hectic times?
I always forget to take breaks, but I think it’s the most important thing to do. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and I realize I haven’t stopped working or thinking about working in days, so I have to actively take my mind off of things. I also exercise every day. I am currently learning to pole dance, and I’ve found it to be a wonderful way to relieve stress. In a pinch, when I feel overwhelmed by life I do the yoga pose “legs up the wall.” It’s exactly what it sounds like.
Who are your top three musical influences?
I think the answer to this is Sia, Lily Allen, and Regina Spektor, but I want to add that my next album is heavily influenced by Beyonce.
Any words to live by?
You are enough.
"The Wingspan Collaborative is a VPRI Research Excellence Cluster and an intellectual ‘studio’ of interdisciplinary scholars in disability studies, arts, culture and public pedagogy across many disciplines at UBC who collaborate on common projects regarding the rights of people with disabilities and who proactively promote the idea that while individual disabilities pose impairments, they should not be seen as deficits but instead as differences that enrich collective human experience and the arts. We identify variously as disabled, non-disabled or as artists who focus on disability aesthetics and linger in the liminal spaces between and among artist/researcher/teacher in the broadest sense of these terms, hence, we are Dis/A/R/Tographers in an unequal global world." Read more...
I’ve spent a large portion of my twenties in the waiting rooms of Vancouver’s walk-in clinics and emergency rooms. I’ve spent hours sitting in vinyl seats, listening to QMFM, just to tell a medical professional that I was sad. Everything in my life was blurry and slow and heavy and dark, and eventually I started to wish I could go to sleep and never wake up. I would describe this crippling sadness to doctor after doctor, and I always got this question first:
“Are you from here?”
Apparently, depression and suicidal thoughts are normal side effects of moving to Vancouver. The doctors would tell me they see it all the time: someone moves from a city with winter, spring, fall and summer to Vancouver, the city with thick grey skies and rain for ten months of the year, and suddenly they lose the will to live. It’s called Seasonal Affective Disorder (aptly abbreviated as SAD) and when you live in a city that barely has two seasons, it becomes a big deal. Vancouver is a city full of SAD people for most of the year. According to the medical community, we have a full-blown SAD epidemic.
Obviously, if I had answered yes to that first question, there would be no need for me to visit every waiting room in the city. Unfortunately, I’m from Surrey. I grew up with this constant drizzle. My dad used to say that the rain would follow us if we ever went on a vacation, so part of my little kid brain thought that my family must also be the reason it rained so much in the Lower Mainland. I’d tell the doctor that no, I was not some previously happy East Coast Canadian who made a terrible mistake and moved to the “wet” coast, and we’d move on from that question to the next one. As a native Vancouverite in her early twenties, it was expected that I was used to the constant darkness.
After what felt like a thousand trips to the doctor and a couple trips to the hospital, I was eventually diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. And, like literally everyone with Bipolar Disorder, I also have Seasonal Affective Disorder. But on my list of problems, SAD ended up at the bottom of the list. I spent years trying to find the right medication that would treat my bipolar disorder without worsening my anxiety disorder, and finally I could get through a month without throwing a plate across the room or sleeping for fifteen hours straight. It was August 2016 when my psychiatrist and I agreed that I was doing well enough that I could go three months between visits instead of the usual two weeks. I finally felt okay. And then October came.
I’ve been stable on meds for a year and a half, and while that doesn’t make me an expert, I’ve learned that from October to May, life is harder. By the time pumpkin spice latte season comes around, my symptoms of depression come creeping back like clockwork. I’ve tried everything my doctor (and the collective hive mind of the internet) has suggested to fight it. I have a little happy lamp which I try to stare into for 30 minutes every morning. I take more vitamin D than the bottle suggests. I try to have fun with the fall and winter holidays. Last year I bought tickets to the Halloween train in Stanley Park, Zombie Syndromethe outdoor interactive zombie play and the “no splash zone” at Evil Dead The Musical. I went to the pumpkin patch, the Christmas market, the other Christmas market, a Christmas-themed musical, saw the lights at VanDusen Garden and if my money hadn’t run out, I would have bought tickets to a Christmas ghost tour of Gastown.
It was ridiculously hard work, and as October came rolling around this year, I didn’t have the energy (or the money) to throw myself into celebrating cozy, fuzzy feelings that only ended up feeling forced and hollow. This year, instead of trying my best to have fun, I’m going to try my best to take care of myself, even if that means allowing myself to feel depressed. Instead of spending my money on overpriced Christmas markets, I’m going to make sure I exercise (I can be found at the local pole fitness studio almost every night), eat food at least three times a day, drink water, and sleep eight hours a night. I’m going to say no to projects I can’t handle, or postpone them until the summer when I have more energy. I’m going to expect less of myself. Bears hibernate. Maybe people with SAD need to hibernate too.
To everyone who struggles with their mental health this time of year, I would like to remind you that Christmas doesn’t have to be joyful, New Year’s Eve doesn’t have to be exciting and Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be romantic. You don’t have to pretend that this is the “most wonderful time of the year.” You have to take care of yourselves and make sure you survive until summer, no matter what that means to you. Maybe one day, we can all move to the south of France. But right now, we’re here, and we’re having a hard time. And that’s okay.
Sarah Jickling is a Canadian songstress and mental health advocate. Over the past few years, Jickling’s whimsical indie-pop songs have been featured on radio stations across the country and in independent films. The twenty-six year old uses her music to spread mental health awareness, and has opened up about her experiences with Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety Disorder on radio, local television, podcasts, blogs and at live speaking events. She now performs her music in high schools across the province with the BC Schizophrenia Society’s Reach Out Psychosis Concert Tour. She can be found in hospital waiting rooms and pole dancing studios around Vancouver.
To speak to a psychiatrist or join a coping skills group, ask your doctor or a walk-in clinic to refer you to the Mood Disorders Association of BC. If you are feeling suicidal and are looking to see a free counsellor immediately, contact SAFER at Vancouver General Hospital. If you are looking for an extremely affordable counsellor and don’t mind being on a waitlist, contact Oak Counselling. To learn skills about mindfulness and other coping tools for free, email the YMCA Youth Mindfulness Program and ask to be put on their waitlist (for people under 30 only). If you need to talk to someone, or to find more resources in your area, please call the Crisis Centre or chat online with the Crisis Centre Chat (for over 24 years old) or YouthinBC.com. If you are in a crisis and you don’t want to go to the ER, there is now a mental health emergency centre called the Access and Assessment Centre. They can send a nurse to you and have counsellors and psychiatrists on site. Some helpful mental health apps include: Wysa, Calm, Headspace, Mindshift, and an app in progress called Aloe.
Where do you live and what makes it home? I live in Surrey right now because I’m lucky enough to live in a little house right next to the Dusty Babes Collective studio. It’s all very temporary (we rent from a developer) but it is such a privilege to walk fifty feet to the studio and have my friends working so close by. I can hardly believe it.
Your neighbourhood haunt? Surrey/White Rock has great thrift stores. There are like five in a row and you can do a sort of pub crawl between them on a Saturday morning. But, you know…sweaters instead of beer.
How did the Dusty Babes Collective come to fruition? I think we were just the people who were in the ceramic studio the most at the end of art school. Ceramics is a really equipment-heavy, space-greedy practice so we wanted to connect to share resources. We were really encouraged by the great faculty and knew we’d need each others’ support after we graduated. Also we’d bonded over ceramic heartbreak.
What is the best thing about sharing a studio space with the Dusty Babes women? Best thing is access to all these smart people who can give great critique and load a kiln for you. Worst is the rats!
You’ve done illustration for everything from pickle jars to zines…If you could create/illustrate the branding for anything/anyone, what or who would it be? I’ve just been reading this amazing book that’s all about death and burial rituals around the world, and it has all these pen-and-ink illustrations of casket handles, the wire structures for floral arrangements, pet tombs and these really sculptural Balinese coffins. I am just consumed with jealousy at the woman who got to draw all that stuff.
If you could create ANYTHING with your own two hands, what would it be? I think clay is the quickest access to “create anything” you could ask for. Right now I’m desperate to make a candelabra, but for birthday candles. Kind of creepy and cheery at the same time. I have it all laid out it in my head but haven’t had the moment to do it.
If you weren’t an artist, what path would you take? Midwife. When I was a kid I would have said travel agent.
Your last unexpected or unusual source of inspiration? I went wedding dress shopping with my soon-to-be sister-in-law and, oh my god, wedding dresses are so cool. They are so elaborate and beautifully crafted. There was not a single one that I looked at that wasn’t glorious. They’re at this bizarre intersection of temporary and forever, youth and maturity. I’ve been thinking about them for weeks.
Guilty pleasure? Cake decorating videos on Instagram.
Favourite cake flavour? I’ve started adding herbs to vanilla or lemon cake, like rosemary or sage or basil. Very nice.
A bad habit that you refuse to quit? Biting my nails. I know it’s disgusting but, what, am I gonna get a manicure? You need that outlet for when the Skytrain shudders and stops moving.
What’s your spirit animal? Labrador retriever.
Favourite dish in Vancouver? V3, salt and pepper crispy tofu at Peaceful Restaurant.
Your three favourite things about Vancouver? Sunrise Market, diversity, Stanley Park.
If you had the power to cast any spell, what would it be? Sha-zam! You can talk to dogs! Sha-zam! The dogs can talk to you!
What is the surefire thing that cheers you up? Coffee. Just black drip coffee. From the gas station, whatever. It’s family and home and hopefulness.
Your biggest pet peeve? Eating sounds.
A ritual of yours? Making pizza and watching X-Files with my friend Angela. Once a week if we’re really living our best lives.
Tell me a joke. What’s brown and sticky? A stick.
What scares the hell out of you? Getting dumber. I feel like I need every neuron I have.
The biggest risk you’ve ever taken? Going to art school.
Something that you’d like to change about Vancouver? More affordable housing for everybody, starting with our lowest-income and homeless neighbours first.
The (mostly) women that you illustrate are very expressive…What’s the story behind these characters? How much thought do you put into what the characters are feeling and thinking when you’re drawing/creating them? It’s getting more common to see women of all sizes and colours represented in our media, but they all seem to be pretty and happy. Like, okay, you can be fat, but you’d better be friggin’ adorable too. Girls have to be allowed to be surly and angry and sneaky and ugly. There’s just so much stuff to be angry about. Anger is important. That’s why I draw them.
What was your favourite picture book as a child? Capyboppy by Bill Peet.
Favourite scary story? I found this thread online of parents talking about things their kids had said about their past lives. Like, “before you were my mum I lived in a grey house and died in a car crash.” There were loads of them and they’re so scary and so interesting.
What’s your relationship with witchcraft? I’m mostly interested in the history, and how the witch figure is depicted in pop culture. Something so interesting happens when women get to be a little creepy. I’ve also adopted this witch character I like to draw – she goes around lighting things on fire. I know there are people who identify as witches and with witchcraft for many many reasons and that’s cool. For me it’s more about this story that was used to both celebrate and control female power.
A lot of your sculptures/ceramics address objects of femininity, often in a morbid, creepy or unsettling way. Can you tell me more about this? I have this mindset that the objects I make are artifacts, like in a museum. And that artifacts tell you what was most important to their user. So I always have this intention to make artifacts that represent the experience of a really particular user – maybe myself or an imagined character. I created objects for the vanity of a lady writer in the Middle Ages (who I made up). I wanted them to be imaginative and creative and weird, for a time when women were likely punished for being imaginative and creative and weird. So those had to be a little unsettling, because I was deliberately trying to unsettle this picture of a tidy little vanity with pretty things on it and your idea of who would use those objects. As for morbidity, sometimes being female-bodied really reminds me that I’m an animal and that reminds me that I’m vulnerable and mortal and that I’ll die one day. So I connect femaleness and femininity to death sometimes.
What is your favourite/least favourite thing about being a woman? Friendships with other women. It’s really fun to hang out with women. Sometimes we even talk about being women. It’s very meta. I hate that so many women in the world are still so disadvantaged because of their gender…feels like in a lot of places, “woman” is this multiplying factor that makes conditions like poverty and violence worse. That sucks.
How did you go from being inspired by Madonna’s speech at the Billboard Awards to creating Come on Vogue?
(For reference you can read the full transcript here: https://www.digitalmusicnews.com/2016/12/10/madonna-sexism-misogyny-women/)
Laura Smith (Rococode) :
-In her speech, Madonna discussed the inequality she has faced during her 35 years in the music industry. The part that really hit me was this: “What I would like to say to all women here today is this: Women have been so oppressed for so long they believe what men have to say about them. They believe they have to back a man to get the job done. And there are some very good men worth backing, but not because they’re men — because they’re worthy. As women, we have to start appreciating our own worth and each other’s worth. Seek out strong women to befriend, to align yourself with, to learn from, to collaborate with, to be inspired by, to support, and enlightened by.” I thought fuck yes. We need this mentality, this is necessary for the future of women in music. Around this time I had noticed more women in my community and otherwise creating positive, supportive encouragement for other women through social media posts, gatherings and the like. It was a growing force that had got under my skin, and the idea hit me to start Come On, Vogue (creative women* in music). I created the Facebook group thinking it would be a good way to connect and support my lady friends in the music community, and also to expand our networks. Shortly after it’s beginning, it was clear Come On, Vogue was something that was filling a major hole in our community, and 9 months later we are 350 members strong! The women in the group inspire me every day, I’m so thankful to everyone that is a part of this community. -Laura Smith (Rococode)
-I got involved with Come On Vogue because being a musician, especially a female musician, can be lonely and frustrating. I see COV as a support group for artists battling their way through a male-dominated industry. To quote Florence Welch and Lady Gaga’s duet song Hey Girl, “(w)e can make it easy if we lift each other.”
-I ended up going to one of the first meetups that Laura had planned, despite the fact that I had felt pretty discouraged to go. I had a lot of touring and experience with a band under my belt, but taking a couple year break was enough to make me feel isolated and unworthy within the music industry. I think women have the mentality instilled into our brains growing up, that if we wanted to be a musician, we’d have to work twice as hard as boys because in my case, it wasn’t “normal” for a girl to pick up an acoustic guitar. There wasn’t room for me, as a girl, so If I really wanted to pursue this passion within me, it would take a lot of personal motivation as there is a thick weight I felt to prove that I could do it which can feel isolating. Come On, Vogue has become a visible rock, a giant “fuck yeah you can do this” to (in my case) the girl with the guitar. It is important for us to support each other within the music industry, but especially important for us to provide a safe space for young women to walk into the music industry and feel like they can be seen, known, and supported in a solid environment. We gotta have each other’s backs, and this group is dynamite when it comes to positive support.
You’re based in Vancouver, how is the local music scene in terms of female inclusion, inclusion, community, and representation?
There’s an amazing amount of talented women* in the Vancouver music scene, in all genres, and roles of the music community including the industry and tech sides of things. When I moved to Vancouver 12 years ago it was very male-dominated, but things are slowly shifting to a more balanced place. It’s an exciting time where women* are beginning to feel included and safe to do what they do. There are definitely some situations in the scene that clearly cater more towards men, and that’s a bias that needs to change. These are things we discuss within COV and are, where we can, actively trying to create positive change through awareness and constructive conversations. On the other hand, there are some companies who are conscious of this issue and making positive and inclusive changes to the way they do business. As for community, our community is stronger than ever as we are stronger together. There’s a lot of support between the women* in our community.
I personally feel like an outsider in this music scene, and from what I understand, others feel this way as well. Vancouver is known to be cliquey and the scenes are very insular. I think all of the individual Vancouver music scenes are dominated by what I call “chill dudes.” Their vibe is something to the effect of I’m not even trying and I don’t really care. To be a woman, especially a woman who is passionate about something, is to stick out like a sore thumb. I have tried to book all female bills at local venues and have been met with resistance. Bookers still feel like an all-female line up is alienating and won’t sell tickets, even if I’ve proven them wrong in the past! There isn’t much space for girls who give a damn. At least, not yet.
Lindsay: I think Laura and Sarah both hit the nail on the head. As for representation, this week alone I have been to 5 shows in a row, and they were 75% female based bands. I see a lot more diversity within bands and a lot more women rocking the drums, bass, and shredding the guitars. There is a lot more visible support, so there are a lot more women* jumping into the scene, and that encourages other women to do the same. It has definitely encouraged me.
In the late 90s the Lilith Fair was an all-female music festival designed to give women a larger stage and national tour placement. What do you think changed in the mainstream music industry where we aren’t seeing many women collaborating together as in the past?
Actually, from my point of view, more women are collaborating now than ever before. It might not always be on as large a scale as Lilith Fair, but on the ground level I see engineers, producers, songwriters, sound techs, film makers, photographers, journalists, promoters, managers, etc. all collaborating on multitudes of project and it is SO inspiring. I see mentorship and a lot of sharing of knowledge, skills, and people who are no longer afraid to ask one another for help. Also on the larger world stage there are more and more successful women dominating the music industry. It’s an exciting time, and it’s only going to get better.
If an all female festival was to run today, they would have to go up against Coachella, etc . Labels and promoters aren’t willing to take risks anymore, especially with independent acts. They want money, and their advertisers don’t want to turn off their male demographics. Women will listen to male and female artists, where as many men won’t listen to female musicians. I can’t imagine an all female festival at this time, because they are more corporate and always thinking about the bottom line. The female collaborations happening at this time are generally female acts open for female acts. Carly Rae is opening for Katy Perry, Alessia Cara opened for Lorde… I think this is where we are going to keep seeing women supporting women.
Who are some of your all time favorite female musicians?
Growing up I was a huge Tegan & Sara fan. I was listening to alternative rock radio a lot when their first single “Monday, Monday, Monday” came out and it was so exciting and inspiring to hear women singing on a radio format that was completely dominated by men. They have inspired me in a business sense too, I know a lot of their team and they do not take any shit from anybody, they are strong in their vision and they demand respect at all levels. I admire that they are highly creative, and have gone from a indie duo to very successful pop stars, and have created a career for themselves with longevity. Other female musicians who are inspiring on several levels are; Yukimi Nagano (of Little Dragon), St. Vincent, Grimes, Emily Haines, MIA.
Beyonce, Lorde, Sia, Hannah Georgas, Taylor Swift. I love pop music and I will never apologize for it!
I am SO inspired by a lot of local bands and uprising pop-rock female -lead bands. I just saw the band Winter, with three girls shredding guitars all standing in a row, which is a look that is becoming a lot more popular and I’m so into it. The all-girl band L.A. Witch just came through Vancouver as well and it was a rock grunge fest on stage, they killed it. The all-girl band Frankie, and my love, St. Vincent, Feist, Lights, Sales, Crumb, Big Thief, Alvvays, Peach Pyramid… I could go on…I’m tellin ya… girls shred.
What are your future goals and projects that you have in mind for Come On Vogue?
We have a great team of volunteers working on all things COV right now, and we have a lot of ideas for the future. For the immediate future we will continue to host monthly meetups to connect people in the community. We also have a workshop series in planning, we just held our first workshop on grant writing in August. We’re collaborating with #womencrush out of Portland to do a bi-monthly artist showcase, our first was in August and it was a great success. We just built a COV website and are creating a database of the artists within the COV community so touring bands, promoters, music supervisors and other industry so they can find the COV members and hook them up with gigs, etc. Our Instagram feed (comeon_vogue) is an ongoing mouthpiece for what our members are up to, and we’re starting an event calendar to shout out to all the COV events on our website. There’s a mental health meet up coming up soon, as mental health is a big issue within the music industry. And of course we have our COV Spotify playlist so you can tune in and hear what we have going on. All these are works in progress, and we do not have a full representative of all the COV artists up on the site or the playlist at this time, but we will keep building, growing and creating a sustainable support network. I should also mention a Vancouver to Nashville transplant Jodi Marinilli just started a second COV community based in Nashville which is very exciting too. I’d love to see COV Facebook groups spread regionally so they can host their own locally based events!
I would love to have more songwriting circles and Laura suggested hosting a songwriting camp, which would be a dream come true for me.
Honestly, the support that came from Come On Vogue was such a huge push for me to get back into music and it has made me so happy this year. My hope is that the community continues to grow, and that women* from all over would feel the inclusive and non-judgemental wall of support, and that it would encourage them to look at themselves and say “Hellll ya, I can do this and I’m gonna fucking rock it”
I had an amazing time talking to Darian Slater about our shared experiences with Bipolar Disorder. Sometimes all you need is to talk to someone who knows exactly what you've gone through. Also, I apologize for being Canadian and learn about American health care horror stories! Listen to our conversation here!
"I’ve had anxiety, panic attacks and insomnia for as long as I can remember. I come from a family with mental illness on both sides, and I grew up watching grown-ups struggle, panic, and lose control, so I thought my experiences were just part of the course.
I’ve also wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember, even though I was told many times as a child that “poet” isn’t a real job. When I was sixteen, I started writing songs and posting them online. I went from being the girl who never said anything to anyone to be the girl with wacky clothes and a ukulele… the poor man’s Zooey Deschanel. My songs were cute, my outfits were cute, and my lyrics were about boys and kittens and Harry Potter. People really liked it and for the first time, I felt good about myself.
But during my late teens and early twenties, my life started spiralling out of control. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder at 19, 21, and at 23, but I refused to accept I was “crazy.” I had gone from being a good student and a seemingly happy-go-lucky singer-songwriter to a university drop-out with suicidal thoughts and uncontrollable mood swings. I felt so ashamed of what was happening to me. I finally accepted treatment when found myself in the hospital on boxing day in 2013.
This is when I started writing honest songs about my mental illness as a way to cope with what I could barely understand. I released these songs online and got an entirely different reaction than what I was used to. People thanked me. They said they could see the light at the end of the tunnel after hearing my words. This gave me a reason to keep going.
Today, I have just released my first full-length album called “When I Get Better” all about my experiences with Bipolar Disorder and treatment, along with a zine called “It’s Okay… a handbook for human beings” inspired by radical acceptance. I now perform with Reach Out Psychosis, a travelling music show that educates high school students across British Colombia on psychosis and early intervention.
I have learned to cope with my disorders by a) taking psychiatric medication, b) writing songs and helping others understand mental illness, and c) fun exercise like pole dancing, aerial arts, tap dancing and more. I also have found a therapist who really understands me, and I am starting a year-long DBT program this fall. This journey was not easy, but I am so happy that I’m now able to make my living playing music and helping young people get help before it’s too late. My blog/music/zine can be found here, and my music is anywhere you can stream or download songs. Twitter , Facebook , Instagram "