
My Story

I got my semicolon after I lost her.
I wish there was some bigger explanation for it, but there really isn’t. I just needed something. Something I could see every day that reminded me she was here. That she was a real person and not just this horrible thing that happened.
For a while after she died, everything about her felt connected to losing her. People would ask how I was doing and I knew what they meant. They weren’t asking about work or what I did that weekend. They meant that. Everything somehow came back to it.
And I hated that.
Because she was funny. Like really funny. She could make me laugh when I was trying so hard to stay mad at her. She stole my clothes and never returned them. She sent me ridiculous texts at completely inappropriate times. There was so much more to her than the way she died.
I think that's what the semicolon became for me.
It’s how I keep her close to me. When I see it, it reminds me of her.
Not just what happened to her. Her.
Sometimes I’ll catch it when I’m driving or washing my hands or doing something completely normal and for a second it feels like she’s just part of my day again.
There are still days when it hurts really bad. There are also days where I can talk about her and laugh, and I don’t feel guilty about laughing anymore.
I don’t know if a tattoo can actually keep somebody close to you.
But this one does for me.
And I think she'd probably make fun of me for getting sentimental about it.

My Story

People assume my semicolon is about one moment, or one bad year, or one thing that happened to me.
It’s not.
It’s more like a collection of things. A lot of quiet battles. Some people saw parts of them, most people didn’t. That’s kind of how it goes. You learn how to still go to work, still answer texts, still laugh when you need to, and still be having a really hard time underneath all of that.
There were times in my life where getting through the day took way more effort than anybody around me knew. I got very good at looking fine. I think a lot of people do that.
So when I got the tattoo, it wasn’t really about making some big statement to everybody else. It’s my way of remembering battles I’ve won. It’s personal.
That’s the simplest way I know how to say it.
It reminds me of the version of me that kept going even when I was exhausted, even when I was overwhelmed, even when I was tired of fighting with my own mind. It reminds me that I’ve had days I honestly didn’t know how to carry, and somehow I carried them anyway.
Not gracefully, either. That’s the other thing.
I wasn’t out here inspiring people every day. Some days I was angry. Some days I shut down. Some days I handled things badly. Some days I disappeared a little. Growth looked messy most of the time, not beautiful.
But I made it through those versions of myself too.
That’s what the tattoo means to me. Not perfection. Not that everything is fixed. Not that life is suddenly easy.
Just that I’ve been through things that could’ve taken me out in one way or another, and they didn’t.
When I see it, I don’t just think about pain. I think about strength, but not the loud kind. The kind nobody claps for. The kind that happens in private. The kind where you wake up and do what you have to do and keep moving, even if you’re not sure you can.
That’s why it matters to me.
Because I remember who I had to be to get here.

My Story

I’ve got tattoos for people, places, things I’ve been into. Some of them have pretty serious stories behind them. Some of them I got because I was 22 and apparently thought every idea I had needed to be permanent.
The semicolon is different.
My tattoos all represent something I love, this one is just for me.
I went through a stretch where I was pretty fucked up mentally.
I didn’t tell many people that at the time.
I was still going to work. Still going out. Still doing normal stuff. If you knew me then, you probably wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong.
That was kind of the problem.
I could be having the worst day in the world and if somebody asked how I was doing, I’d say, “Good.”
Every time.
I’m sure that was incredibly helpful.
There were nights where my head would just not shut off. I’d replay everything. Things I screwed up. Things I should’ve done differently. Stuff that happened years ago that my brain apparently decided needed another meeting at two in the morning.
And then there were days where I didn’t really feel much of anything.
Those were probably worse.
I didn’t have some big moment where I decided I was going to change my life. I wish it worked like that. Mostly I just got tired of feeling like shit.
Eventually I talked to somebody.
Then I talked a little more.
I started being more honest when I was having a bad day instead of pretending I was just tired.
It helped.
Not immediately. Not every day.
But it helped.
I got the semicolon later.
Nobody came with me. I didn’t post some big explanation about it. I just went and got it.
People ask about it now and sometimes I tell them. Sometimes I don’t.
That’s probably why I like it.
Most of my tattoos remind me of somebody or something outside of myself.
This one reminds me that I made it through something.
And I know exactly what that means, even if nobody else does.
That’s enough.

My Story

I had no idea what a semicolon meant before my daughter told me.
I knew what it meant in a sentence. I’m not completely hopeless.
But this whole other meaning behind it? Not a clue.
She brought it up one day because I’d been having a rough time. I’d been retired for a little while, some health stuff had piled up, a couple people I cared about were gone, and I wasn’t handling any of it particularly well.
My solution was mostly to sit in my chair and tell everybody I was fine.
Very sophisticated system.
My daughter knew better.
She started coming around more. Calling more. Asking questions that were just annoying enough that I knew she wasn’t going to let me get away with changing the subject.
At some point she told me about the semicolon.
I remember thinking, “That’s it? A punctuation mark?”
Then she explained it to me.
I liked the idea more than I expected to.
It’s a nifty little helper that my daughter introduced me to.
That’s really what I call it.
A little helper.
Because I’ll see it on my wrist and it reminds me to do something besides sit there and stew in whatever is bothering me.
Call somebody.
Go outside.
Tell my wife I’m having a lousy day instead of snapping at her because the television is too loud.
That one took me a while.
I grew up in a time when men weren’t particularly encouraged to sit around discussing how we were feeling. You handled your business. You kept moving. If something hurt, you found something to do.
There are worse ways to live, I suppose.
But there are better ones too.
My daughter has taught me a lot about that.
I still don’t talk about everything. She’ll probably read this and say, “That is an understatement.”
But I talk more than I used to.
And when I’m getting myself wound up or disappearing into my own head, sometimes that little mark catches my eye.
It doesn’t fix anything.
It just reminds me that I have people.
And maybe I ought to let them be there.
Funny thing to learn from a semicolon at my age.
But there you have it.
There’s more than one way forward. Choose what feels useful today.
01 / Learn
You don’t need a diagnosis or the right words to begin. Explore what you’ve been noticing, at your own pace.
02 / Grow · Semicolon Journey
Sometimes you know something feels off, but you’re not sure how to explain it.
Semicolon Journey offers a place to reflect on what you’re experiencing, find language for it, and explore what may deserve your attention.
Explore your JourneyA little reflection.
A place to begin.
03 / Heal
Connection can take different forms. Find people who understand, explore a first conversation, or look for care near you.
Being heard can be
a meaningful first step.
Explore communities built around shared experiences, support, and connection.
Explore groups Start a conversationLearn about a free first conversation with a licensed mental health professional, when one is available.
Discover Semicolon Helps Explore care near youLook for treatment providers and take a closer look at your options.
Find treatmentA little perspective
A small mark. A powerful meaning.
A semicolon is used when a sentence could have ended, but continues. For our community, it’s a reminder that a difficult chapter doesn’t have to be the last one.
Project Semicolon brings that reminder into everyday life through mental health information, connection, and ways to support one another.
Get to know our mission04 / Help
However you’re able to contribute, there’s a way to help someone’s story continue.
Find your way to helpA few things you might be wondering
A little more about the movement, the community, and finding your place.
Get in touchAnyone looking for understanding, connection, or a way to help. You may be navigating your own mental health, supporting someone you care about, living with loss, or simply wanting to make a difference. You’re welcome here.
No. A tattoo is one way people connect with the message, but it isn’t a requirement. You can read, participate, share, or support the mission in the way that feels right for you.
Start with what feels useful today: learn about something you’ve noticed, explore Semicolon Journey, or look for connection and care. You can change direction at any time.
Explore your starting pointsProject Semicolon does not provide direct crisis intervention. If you need immediate support in the United States, you can call 988, text 988, or chat with the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.
If there is immediate physical danger, contact local emergency services.