#st vicent

[faltasme]

[mourama]

“São Vicente” (‘Saint Vincent’) by Frei Carlos 1520-30

[shykpop]

St Vicent icons

Like or reblog, if save/use

Credits always welcome

Ask is open

Psd: @colour-source

[cinemafiles]

like or reblog @diannagrnn

[gringoslur]

I did a little bit of research and i could find some links to donate to the people affected by hurricane Irma. I’m not saying that those are 100% trust-worthy, i just want to make a post with the information that i have, you can judge and donate to the place that you prefer. If you have more info or know the reputation of those sites, please comment!

Direct Relief

Habitat for Humanity 

Mercy Corps

UNICEF

Some local organizations:

Antigua & Barbuda — Friends of the Care Project

St. Kitts & Nevis — Care Nevis Animal Society

Puerto Rico — Caritas de Puerto Rico

Caribbean (entire region) — Children of the Caribbean Foundation

Crowdfunding:

Hurricane Irma Relief (made by Double the Donation)

Puerto Rico Hurricane Fund 

Hurricane Irma and Jose Relief Fund 

Hurricane Irma Disaster Relief Fund for Barbuda

Virgin Gorda Relief Supply Fund

USVI IRMA RELIEF FUND

St John U.S. Virgin Island Hurricane Irma Relief Fund

Hurricane Irma Sint Maarten Relief Fund

Some people in tumblr that need your help NOW:

@keithbian: here

@slimy​: here

@docwormofficial​: here

@accio-smerch​: here

@wardxn​: here

@peenbutt: here

If you can’t donate, please share this BUT LOOK AT THE COMMENTS TO SEE THE LATEST UPDATE (or other comments clarifying/adding stuff!)

[faltasme]

[mtvmakesmewannasmokecrack]

Visit Original Link

i dont think a lot of people have heard this and it fucking bangs for real

[handsofkindness-blog]

Turning Point

One of the most important and possibly the greatest experience in my life was being admitted in hospital one year ago.

For one, I had the freedom - a chance to determine the path of my life for the remainder of years that I may be alive.

I was admitted in the St. Vincent Hospital, Bridgeport, Connecticut for an entire week, at a time when I was experiencing an overwhelming strain of depression and was on the verge of committing suicide.

That night when the doctor told me that I didn’t have the option of leaving, occurred to me that my entire life had come to a halt.

Little did I know, having gone through the day that I would find myself in an almost empty room, with only a bed, in complete silence and with the palms of my hands over my face.

There I was, in America, controlled by psychiatric decision, in the face of a growing threat from my family who had no idea where I was.

I had no access to phone and I knew very well that it would be catastrophic, had I called… probably creating a greater risk than there already was.

I was in hospital due suicidal risk…

Why was I at risk of suicide?

There was no way I could tell my homophobic family that it’s because I was gay and I needed help… I would probably be killed faster than I would commit suicide.

I needed help and I didn’t think my family (at the time) could contribute any good.

And I was right, after my first day in hospital and after my first attempt to reach out to them, their first response was revealing and sad.

They had ignited a string of rumors that were then to be exported to my mother and father in Jamaica. At the end of the day they were proven wrong but I had quite frankly lost the support of my father. My mother however, was the only living human soul of family to stand by my side. I was also lucky enough to have the support of the doctors and nurses at St. Vincent's and my case worker at TCC.

I went into a deep depression nonetheless, and at the same time I had to make very radical decisions about my life going forward.

I could not go back to my family’s house and I knew going back to Jamaica would have proven a disaster, so I had to find a home. In a country where I had no immediate family who would be willing to come to my aid, where I knew no one else and where I was completely foreign to any aid that would possibly be of assistance. I was lost and confused.

The rumors circulating back to Jamaica, having been introduced by my family here was that I was in Miami with a gay guy. Too bad for them, I had never been to Miami and the guy to whom they made reference was a 65 year old straight father of two adult men.

They (my family) threatened to have my life taken and that coupled with my growing fears of the future was enough for me to believe that suicide was my only option.

I wanted to connect with my family in Jamaica but with the damage already done by my family here that would have proven to be a losing game. I had to find a way to defend myself and then to sustain myself.

St. Vincent gave me a team of doctors, counselors and case workers who helped me to get back on my feet emotionally. I received some of the best advice that has helped me to remain alive to this day and I was able to come out for the first time as gay and get the support I needed.

The friends I met while in hospital, for the seven days that I was there, were also key in my recovery. We ate together; we talked about our life-threatening issues; we watched movies together; we played games together; we went to groups together; we didn’t judge each other and we believed in each other.

I gained confidence and self-esteem and today I am lucky enough for that experience I received at St. Vincent.