Welcome to the digital component of my zine project 'the ache and the balm.'
Click here for a complete content warning, which may contain spoilers for the zine project.
I started writing the ache in February of 2026 as a means to express some parts of myself that had very rarely been expressed to anyone before. This pertained mainly to my experiences with suicidal ideation and depression. There are things in this zine that I've never told anyone before. I sought catharsis and found it. Because of this, the zine is terribly vulnerable and heavy. To provide a relief from this heaviness for myself and my readers, I created the balm. This second zine is a bit of participatory aftercare for the reader.
Thus, the ache and the balm was created. The titles of the respective zines are reflective of my experiences making them. Not only does the ache describe the pain that I have experienced, but it also demonstrates the true and honest ache I felt while creating it. This pain, though relieving in some ways, needed quelling. To me, a "balm" is something soft and soothing. It lessens the pain, while acknowledging that it is not a cure.
The zines themselves come in a bundle of items handcrafted as an experience for the reader. If you would like to parttake in this experience, please click on "participate" at the top of this page. If you have already experienced these zines and would like more details on how the zines were made and more thoughts about the architecture of the experience, click here or continue reading. I stipulate readers-only because that section does contain spoilers.
As I developed the project, I realized that I was broaching a topic we often neglect in our discussions of our lived experiences. I understand why, it's a difficult topic and very sensitive across the board, particularly to those who have had first- or second-hand experiences with suicide. I've found that this stigma has made me feel quite lonely. I fear talking about it with people who surround me in my personal life because I do not want to worry them. I fear talking about it with doctors because I do not want to be institutionalized. I fear talking about it in private online spaces because I do not wanto upset anyone by breaking the taboo.
To better open this discussion, I figured I would develop a space where those who struggle with depression, suicidal ideation, or other mental health conditions could share their answers to the question "What would I miss?"
WHAT WOULD I MISS?
This question sits at the crux of my ability to survive. In most situations, this question is an oversimplification of the internal dialogue one may have when considering suicide, but this project is very personal to my experience. When I have considered suicide, something that I sometimes discover and rediscover is not that I truly wish to die, but rather I wish to live some other way and find that I have no options. I survive because my deep wish to live vibrantly has in multiple cases fortunately superceded my wish to end my life. I know this philosophy does not support everyone, but it supports me.
So, I have invited readers of this zine, regardless of their experiences, to hope. The "I" or self present in the ache is first in foremost a reference to myself. So the question is posed as an offer to continue the story that is left off in the ache. In another equally important interpretation, the reader is put into the position of "I". What would I miss?
The purpose of this project is to answer that question in any and all ways. What experiences are there in life for us to live, to enjoy, to cherish, or to even suffer through? What is there out there to add to our lives beyond this moment of pain? Answering this question exercises our ability to hope. It is my wish to cultivate hope as a skill in not just myself, but those around me.
At the very end of the zine, I ask readers to submit images of their pages to this site. To view these submissions, click "read" here or at the top of this page. Please know that this project has started in February 2026 and it will probably be slow going as folks submit things.
MAKING-OF
Please know that this section contains spoilers for the zine experience.
I wrote all 1300 words of the ache in one day between classes and meetings. Somewhere around the 800-word mark, I realized I was getting really emotionally exhausted. The weight of what I was writing was really pulling down on me. It occurred to me that those reading it may experience a similar pull. So, I wanted to make a more closely curated experience for those who may read the zine so that they felt cared for and held throughout it.
That started with a greeting letter labeled "read me first." This letter is first in the stack when the bundle is upright. Inside I include the most detailed content warning and I articulate my motivations and feelings for the work. It is a gentle setup for an emotionally challenging experience.
Then comes the ache itself. It is a narratively-based piece of writing that describes the most prominent memories I have surrounding my experience with suicidal ideation and behavior. Interspersed with the narrative is a lengthy metaphorical description of my depression, likened to a knot of jute rope. The texture of that material has always bothered me in a really profound way. Since about early high school, I have used it as a metaphor to describe my depression to those who may not understand what it's like.
I was knocked out after writing the ache and took a night to sleep on it all. Before the reader is able to finish the zine, a knot of real jute twine binds the last third or so of it shut. On the spread containing the final hinging question ("What would I miss?") there are instructions to turn to the balm.
Here is where the relationship between the zines starts to come into play. I was trying to avoid a lot of back and forth between them, but I found that I was more interested in guiding the experience than letting the reader sit alone with any feelings they may have. The tone of the balm is more like a lot of my other first-person writing. It is calm and soothing. If you've read my zine, A Garden of Who I Am and Who I Have Ever Been, it's very similar.
My intital intentions were to only encourage the reader to reflect on the positive, but I found that that ignores the whole sentiment of me creating the work in the first place. This was to express the unexpressed, to get things out of my body that were rotting and weighing me down. So, I give that opportunity to the reader. I offer space in the first half of the ache for them to get those feelings out. Then comes the more gentle ease into hope.
I invite the reader to untie the twine that binds the end of the ache shut. The physical representation of my metaphor honestly felt quite clever. I'm kind of a sucker for a theme and an interactive element. In a kind-of-meditation-feeling exercise, I wanted the reader to envision both untying my depression (or at least my self that lives in this zine) and simultaneously their own.
The last few pages of the zine are blank. Here, I challenge the reader to fill them with hopes, dreams, truly answering what there is to live for when all feels lost. I know this is sometimes an impossible task, but I find it a rewarding one. In the end of the balm, I ask the reader to submit any amount of their response to my email for me to post to this site.
Something I am considering still is whether or not I want to encourage others to share that heavy darkness that they are invited to express on earlier pages in the zine. There is a duality of not wanting to exclude the negative for the sake of the positive, but also minding the idea of sharing triggering content that others may actively seek out in order to harm themselves. It's a troubling dynamic that I'm still wrestling with. For now, only the answers to "What would I miss?" will be posted on the site.