When I was fourteen, I started feeling sad for no obvious reason. I never wanted to leave my bed and my grades were plummeting. I was forlorn, unhappy, miserable, and medically labeled as depressed. If my depression was an ocean, I was constantly drowning in it. No matter what time of the day or where I was, that sadness was unescapable. I eventually ended up in the hospital. What for, I’m not prepared or ready to reveal to the world yet. What I am prepared to reveal, is one of the coping skills I learned in the hospital.

In the hospital, people kept telling me to go to my happy place. I responded with "How the heck to I do that?" I soon found a pamphlet directed towards self-harmers that had the key to getting to my happy place. I had never self-harmed, but all the coping skills that had been presented to me had seemed too small for the vast ocean that was my depression. I figured that the pamphlet would have tips that could help me too, and I was correct. Several pages into the thick pamphlet, I discovered the safety box.

The pamphlet described a safety box as a box a self-harmer goes to look in when they feel like harming themselves. A safety box typically has “safe” items, items that make the owner of the box feel safe. I adapted the idea of the box to fit my needs. I covered the bottom with cotton balls and sprinkled confetti stars on top of them to remind me of the sky. I then placed items that made me happy into the box.

Now, my safety box is that exactly: mine. It is for me only and has what makes me happy, not someone else. However, I’m willing to share the kinds of things in it.

First of all, I went to a craft store and bought a decorative box.

Then, I placed the cotton balls and confetti stars.

On top of the cotton balls are a lot of pictures that make me happy or remind me why I should stay alive. For example, I have a picture of the Eiffel Tower because I want to visit Paris before I die. I also have a lot of pictures of my family because they make me happy and I want to stay alive for them. From baby pictures of me to a picture of my uncle as a kid setting some random thing on fire, the pictures never fail to make me feel better.

I also have items for me to touch, such as ribbons and shells.

I also have a tube of my favorite candy in there because hey, I’m not going anywhere as long as milky buttons are still a thing.

I have inspirational quotes scattered on colored index cards thrown in there too.

All in all, my safety box is somewhere I go when I feel any negative emotion. When I feel upset or anxious, I usually don’t know what to do with myself. I’m just sat there, nervous, upset, and depressed. That’s where the box comes in! With the box, I have something to do, and it helps that it’s filled with only positive things.

Now, why am I telling you about my not so secret box? No matter who you are, you probably get sad every once in a while. If you don’t, then I’m impressed. But, for those of you that do, I’m suggesting you consider getting a safety box. Call it what you want: a happy box, a secret box, my box of awesomeness. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, it can just be a shoe box. Next, put whatever you want in it. Then, remember it’s your box. Nobody else’s. You can share it with whoever you want, but remember that it’s yours and you can put whatever you want in it. Whether you decide to make a box or not, my only wish is that you have something to do when upset.