13 Reasons Why

6 Reasons I'm Not a Fan of '13 Reasons Why'

The mini series version of Jay Asher’s book, “Thirteen Reasons Why,” has come out on Netflix (“13 Reasons Why”). It has been long anticipated, as the best selling young adult novel has been a favorite among many since 2007. However, the story has never sat quite right with me.

For background, I am someone living with mental illness and am a suicide attempt survivor. Today, I am a mental health advocate and future clinician. I read “Thirteen Reasons Why” when I was around 14 years old, in the beginning of my worsening depression and suicidal thoughts. I didn’t really like it then or now.

I recognize this story is one that resonates with some or has provided comfort or solace. I know many people watching the show really enjoy it and are encouraging others to watch and read it as well. While I don’t want to discourage others from finding things that help them, I do want to shed light on the issues it contains.

1. It simplifies suicide and perpetuates the idea suicide has someone to blame.

We are all affected by what we do and what happens to us. And sometimes, what happens to us is unfair, hurtful or even severely traumatizing. I am not saying these things don’t matter, because they do. When faced with the things addressed in “13 Reasons Why” such as bullying, rumors and sexual assault, it absolutely affect our mental health. But to perpetuate the idea there is a straight, linear path to why a suicide happened by pointing fingers at peers, parents or another individual, is harmful. Suicide is a complex issue and it cannot be defined by placing the onus on someone else. Sometimes, suicide has no reason other than intense depression or another mental illness such as schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder or bipolar disorder. It is upsetting to see a suicide portrayed as the suicidal person wanting others to feel guilty, rather than focusing on the person’s emotions and thoughts.

2. It adds fuel to the fire of suicide myths, like “suicide is selfish.”

People who believe harmful myths about suicide can look to this movie and story to “prove” their point. The fact that Hannah, the girl who dies by suicide in the story, sends pre-recorded tapes detailing the reasons (both events and people’s actions) that led to her suicide is uncomfortable. And it should be. The moral of the story is we need to recognize how we treat people affects them in ways we don’t even know. That is true. But what is most uncomfortable is Hannah’s suicide is seen as a way to expose what people have done to her. It makes it seem as though she is a hero for calling out the harmful things that have been done to her. And while it is brave to confront bullying and stand up after an assault, it is harmful to be done posthumously, implying suicide was the only way to make her voice heard.

3. It devalues both suicide and bullying experiences.

We see over and over again the stories about bullying that lead to suicide, but how accurate is this? And what message does it send? Experiencing bullying is traumatic and each individual copes in their own way. As mental health advocate and speaker Aliçia Raimundo says, “Your bullying experience is valid even if you were never suicidal and your feelings of suicide are valid even if you were never bullied.” Bullying does not directly cause suicide. And many recent youth suicides have been met with advocating for anti-bullying campaigns, which reduces and simplifies suicide. It also continues the idea that the normal outcome for bullying is suicide — which is simply not true. This isn’t to say bullying does not affect mental health or does not have an influence on someone becoming suicidal. It is saying that bullying is a risk factor, but a risk factor is not a cause.

4. It disregards the guidelines on safe and responsible reporting on suicide.

We know Hannah dies by suicide. It is the premise of the story and revealed at the beginning, as the rest of the show depends on it. The show could have been effective and impactful without the graphic, detailed portrayal of Hannah’s suicide, which is a direct violation of research conducted by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and other suicide prevention organizations, when they found “risk of additional suicides increases when the story explicitly describes the suicide method, uses dramatic/graphic headlines or images and repeated/extensive coverage sensationalizes or glamorizes a death.”

5. It doesn’t address mental illness in adolescence.

Not all who die by suicide have mental illness, but a mental disorder and/or substance abuse is found in 90% of suicide deaths. And when it comes to adolescents, one in five have (or will have) a serious mental illness. With those statistics in mind, it’s no wonder suicide is the third leading cause of death among those 10 to 14 and the second among those 15 to 34 years old. Clearly, these are important issues and ones that need to be addressed. “13 Reasons Why” is one of the first and most popular mainstream media portrayals of suicide in adolescence and it doesn’t talk about mental illness at all. It is missing a crucial opportunity to discuss an issue affecting the lives of so many children and teenagers.

6. There is no example of successful help-seeking.

A theme throughout the story is silence. None of the teenagers talk to their parents, faculty, staff or anyone but each other about their feelings. As Hannah was contemplating suicide and preparing the tapes, she gave “one try” to ask for help. Having Hannah go to the counselor and him failing to grasp her mental state and fail to help her, is sending a message that help is unattainable. That there is such a thing as “too late” to be helped. After her suicide, her peers also don’t receive help. Several characters have an extremely hard time coping with the tapes, but when parents ask, the students deny it. I understand teenagers can be brooding and moody, we get that. What would be helpful to teenagers today is to show how to ask for help, how treatment and counseling is available — not that everyone just accepts “I’m fine” at face value and that’s the end of the conversation. I wish even one character had someone intervene to shine some light, to be an image of hope, that could help the narrative from being one of desperation and silence to one that encourages conversation and help-seeking. There needs to be an example of what to do, not just what not to do. When we present a failing system without the avenue for change, it does not help to prevent the very thing the show is about.

This is not to say the show and book are all bad. They get some things right, too. In particular, tackling rape culture and slut shaming was dealt with accurately. The scenes dealing with the assaults can be triggering, but it is not shown in the same graphic nature as Hannah’s suicide. The story acts as a warning and that moral of treating people well and being aware of how our words and actions affect others is a good one, I just think it gets muddled and lost at times. It’s stories like these that remind me of the work that needs to be done in the media to involve advocates, clinicians and people with lived experience to make sure we are presenting stories that need to be told in the most responsible and effective ways possible, along with representation of how to get help.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Photo via “13 Reasons Why” Facebook page.


Amy Bleuel

Why Amy Bleuel's Death Does Not Invalidate Her Message

Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts or have lost someone to suicide, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741

My heart has been heavy the past few days since the report of mental health advocate Amy Bleuel’s death was released.

For those who don’t know who Amy was, she pioneered a network of peer support via her nonprofit organization, Project Semicolon, founded in 2013. Project Semicolon exploded into social media consciousness in 2015 when pictures of semicolon tattoos inspired by the project took off and started spreading like wildfire. But I was a follower of the Project since 2014, when I came across a photo on Facebook dedicated to Semicolon Day:

Project Semicolon defines itself as being “dedicated to presenting hope and love for those who are struggling with mental illness, suicide, addiction and self-injury.” I can’t stress enough how important the project was to me as someone who has a past history of self-harm, who has struggled with depression and anxiety and is a suicide attempt survivor and the mother of a suicide attempt survivor.

Amy made it OK to talk about these things openly and touched so many lives with a small punctuation mark. Many who self-harm tend to hide what they do. The nature of the stigma has prevented many from seeking help or having hope for recovery. Suicide attempts often have similar stigmas attached and many suicide attempt survivors, suicide loss survivors or those considering suicide tend to feel alone even in the mental health community. Amy gave us a place there.

As an advocate for mental health as well as chronic illness, I admired and continue to admire Amy and her message of inclusion and support. Amy was a suicide attempt survivor who struggled with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) herself and whose father died by suicide. A few days ago, it was indeed confirmed Amy died by suicide.

People tend to think mental health advocates have all the answers, but oftentimes we’re really still in the battle with them. We’re navigating the same waters, but don’t necessarily have a lighthouse in sight, a life jacket or even know how to swim in uncharted waters. We just know we’re called to help others.

Sometimes in helping others, our own self-care takes a backseat. Sometimes because it’s easier to focus on the problems of others. Sometimes because we get caught up in what we do and other times because we just don’t see that we have that same safety net we try to be.

When an advocate dies by suicide, people wonder what will happen to those they reached out to. Will they feel abandoned? Will they lose hope and give up? But such a loss does not invalidate the message or their work. It makes it more important.

Rest in peace, Amy Bleuel. Your story is still not over and neither is your legacy.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Photo via Amy Bleuel Facebook page.

These Semicolons Are More Than Just a Fun Idea for a Tattoo

Founder of the Semicolon Project, Amy Bleuel, passed away March of 2017 but her message will continue on.

Read the full transcript:

These Semicolons Are More Than Just a Fun Idea for a Tattoo.

The Semicolon Project was founded in 2013 by Amy Bleuel.

In literature, an author uses a semicolon to not end a sentence but to continue on.” -Amy Bleuel

“We see it as you are the author and your life is the sentence. You’re choosing to keep going.”

For many people the semicolon was a sign of hope through mental illness, suicide, self-injury and addiction.

“I got the word warrior because I fight with these thoughts every day, and I survived a suicide attempt. The semicolon is in there because it symbolizes that my story isn’t over. I got it right there on my arm so I can see it clearly every day and remind myself to stay strong.” — Ashley Lake

“This is the tattoo I’m proudest of.” — Kris Lindsey

Amy died March of 2017, but the message of the semicolon continues on.

“It’s humbling to know that a message you started is resonating with people and so many people are choosing to continue their story because of your efforts.” -Amy Bleuel

For anyone struggling right now, please take care of yourself. Please talk to someone.

Text the Crisis Text Line at 741-741.
Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
Call The Trevor Project at 866-488-7386.
Donating your social media data to 


Amy Bleuel going for a hike

The Privilege of Knowing Amy

She landed the “gig” of a lifetime, an opportunity that would change everything. Months in advance she booked a hotel downtown, the car that would take her there and planned every other detail of her trip… except for her airfare. Just like every other trip, she would wait until the very last minute to book her flight despite the extra high fares she was bound to pay.

My friend, like 20 million Americans, was afraid to fly. It’s a condition called aviophobia, which is a bona fide anxiety disorder.

But, she wasn’t afraid of flying for the reason you may think. It wasn’t the crashing and dying part she was afraid of. It was the lack of control; being trapped 30,000 feet in the air with hundreds of strangers and no way out is what down right terrified her.

No, death she was comfortable with. Since a young age, she’d lived with chronic suicidal ideation. Overwhelmed with a persistent need to take her own life, she’d attempted suicide more times than she could count. She told me it was the only time she felt like the one in control.  

We used to talk or text long into the night about her “need to die” as she put it. She was embarrassed by it. Afraid everyone would find out she didn’t have it all together.

I used every crisis intervention approach I’d learned as a Mental Health First Aid instructor:

Assess for risk of suicide or self-harm. Check.

Listen nonjudgmentally. Check.

Give reassurance and information. Check.

Encourage professional help. Check.

Encourage self-help. Check.

I also used my personal experiences as the founder of NoStigmas. My father having died by suicide when I was 6, I know a thing or two about the ripple effects of losing someone to suicide. I shared my own struggles with anxiety and depression, even going as far as commiserating with her about my own thoughts of suicide and losing the will to live in high school. Peer support at its finest.

During those times, her desire to die was strong. Her guarded smile and self-deprecating humor would turn very dark. Going through it with her for hours on end was exhausting. I couldn’t hang up for fear that she’d kill herself. When I didn’t hear from her, I would worry and reach out to make sure she was OK. I became so desperate to help that I started neglecting my own wellness. I was losing sleep, constantly anxious and afraid I’d say the wrong thing and trigger an attempt.  

After months of this, I had to create some healthy boundaries and manage her expectations of me as an ally. This was really tough to introduce to her and even more difficult to adhere to. That was a year ago.

My friend Amy Bleuel died by suicide last week.  

Amy Bleuel going for a hike

I am devastatingly guilt-ridden at myself and helplessly angry at her all at the same time. I feel like I should have been there. I feel like I could have done more. I feel like I have failed as a friend. I feel like I have no business doing this work. Etiam atque etiam.

Is this what a doctor feels like when they “did everything they could” to save someone’s life and ultimately lose them? I know I did everything in my power to help. But, I still feel like a helpless 6-year-old fatherless child all over again.

I know I’m not alone in these feelings. Over 800,000 people die by suicide each year worldwide. It’s said that each of them leaves behind six people or more who are forever and irreparably affected by their death. Each of us carries a “survivor’s guilt” and all the “what if’s” with us wherever we go.

But another perspective is this: I had the privilege of knowing her in a way few ever have. Amy chose to trust me with her hopes, dreams and crushing realities. She lived through things no human should ever have to experience and used that to help others. For whatever length of time, we got to talk about taboo things and experience raw humanness in a way that frightens most people. And that connection will continue on.  

Let’s all remember those who are gone for the lives they lived, rather than they way they died.

Fly free, my friend; your story isn’t over.

P.S. I took this photo of Amy during a trip to Seattle for a shared speaking event. I’ll always remember her this way.

— — —

If you or someone you know is in crisis or considering suicide, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) or text “NoStigmas” to 741-741.

A special thank you to E.C. and those who have and continue to support me in so many ways. You give me renewed strength and perspective to continue ever forward.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Lead image provided by the contributor

Amy Bleuel

What We're Reminded of After Amy Bleuel's Passing

I write this article with a heavy heart.

I’ve never heard of Amy until this week, in which I read the news of her passing. With confusion, I started to research about her, about her history, and there it hit me: the mental health community had lost an amazing activist. I had heard about Project Semicolon before, and every time I saw someone with the “;” tattoo, and listened to their story, every single one of them were absolutely inspiring. Finding symbolism in something so simple, a semicolon, is just pure poetry.

And she came up with that. She has inspired many, and will still in future years. I, personally, am eternally grateful for that.

But Amy’s life reminds us of something we don’t talk about enough: Even though we may be mental health activists, even though we put our stories out there hoping to inspire other, even though we are comforted by being a part of a community where we share common struggles, we are still battling.

And I can say that many of us, who chose the path of educating and raising awareness, found this passion in our personal struggles. In our own pain. In our constant battle with certain conditions. It’s beautiful, but contradictory at the same time, for one to tell others it’ll get better, when there are days in which we feel like a burden, like nothing will ever be better, like wanting to die. It makes you wonder.

I have no answers, because I’m still processing all of these. But the only thing I can say is that people like Amy, people who write about mental health, people who create awareness, people who help others, are as human as those on the other side of the screen. We, as writers, are no different from the readers. The activists are no different from those they help. We are all part of the same
community, we share common struggles, we share pain and glory, and we are in this together. Some choose to talk about it, some make of their pain a global movement. Amy not only did that, but she inspired a lot of people along the way by recognizing her humanity.

May she finally be in peace, and may we all be reminded that even those who help us, who inspire us, who we admire, are human too. And they struggle, just as us or even more.

I just want to end this article sending immense love to every single member of this and other mental health awareness communities. May we mourn, may we learn, may we keep fighting side by side with love and support from others who share our pain. Our story, just like Amy’s, isn’t over yet.


If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Lead image via Project Semicolon

Contributor's tattoos

Why I Got a Semicolon Tattoo

I grew up in a pretty normal, conservative, middle class household. My parents weren’t super strict. Or super lenient. They were just sort of… average really.

Piercing, body modifications and tattoos just weren’t our cup of tea. I remember my dad thinking it bizarre I wanted to get my ears pierced at 16. I did it anyway. Twice.

Never in my entire life had I ever considered getting a tattoo. In fact mostly I thought tattoos were a silly thing to do – I mean who would do something so permanent to their body? That’s certainly the message I’ve been sending to my children for 20 plus years! Then on my birthday last month, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get a tattoo. Not as a decoration — as a statement. Not for you. Not for family or friends. A statement for me. To remind me my story isn’t over yet. And so today I got a tattoo.

I read about the semicolon project sometime ago and was going to get a semicolon to remind myself that despite chronic suicidal ideation last year, I am still here. Then as I read more I found the phrase “My Story Isn’t Over Yet” popping up all the time in relation to the semicolon project and I strongly resonated with that. So I had it tattooed on my wrist. Partly for the statement and the reminder. Partly to stop me wanting to cut.

Then when playing around on Pinterest, I discovered an eating disorder recovery symbol and I wanted that too. So I have the text and semicolon across my wrist with the recovery symbol on the back. All linked up with a squiggly line.

Despite it being very early days (I’ve had a tattoo for five hours so far and it is in fact, still wrapped in cling wrap), I am extremely happy. I feel like I’ve made a statement to myself. If days get dark, it is a visual reminder I’ve been there before and I made it through. I can do it again.

My husband now calls me his “badass inked up babe,” which is so not me. I am not badass and I’m not a babe. I’m usually a big baby. I was asked today if I had it done as a bucket list thing and I immediately said, “No!” Because I didn’t. But it has left me wondering. What is on my bucket list? I need to make one. Because I would like to feel successful in life, I think I’ll start my bucket list with things I’ve already done. So I’m now going to add, “Get a tattoo” to the top of my bucket-list. But I’d also like to fill my list with things I haven’t done yet. So the unfinished story of this badass inked up babe will have some more interesting tidbits to tell.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Photo via contributor.

Real People. Real Stories.

150 Million

We face disability, disease and mental illness together.