My name is Diego James Henson, and The Save Tomorrow Project is personal to me.
There was a point in my life when a series of wrong decisions, bad circumstances, and things I didn't understand led me all the way to rock bottom My mental health deteriorated. I experienced psychosis, Drug Addiction, Several suicide attempts, and isolation. I lost pieces of the person I thought I was and abilities I once took for granted.
It's difficult to explain what that's like unless you've experienced it.
Sometimes you wake up and realize you don't recognize your own life anymore. You don't know exactly how you got there, you don't know how to get back, and you can't see much of a future ahead of you.
And that's when you're expected to navigate one of the most complicated systems imaginable.
Find the right agency.
Make the right phone call.
Fill out the right paperwork.
Keep the appointment.
Understand your benefits.
Explain yourself over and over again to strangers.
Advocate for yourself when you're barely capable of getting through the day.
I couldn't do that on my own.
And one of the hardest parts wasn't simply being mentally ill. It was realizing how differently people could look at me because of it.
You notice the expressions. You notice when people stop listening. You notice when someone talks over you instead of to you. You notice when your diagnosis becomes more important to them than what you're actually saying.
After enough of that, you begin to wonder whether your voice matters at all.
There were agencies that were supposed to help. There were resources somewhere. But finding them, understanding them, reaching them, and finding someone who would actually listen was another problem entirely.
Eventually I realized something.
I had to become the advocate I kept looking for.
I had to decide that my future was still worth fighting for, even when I couldn't see what that future was supposed to look like.
And then I started noticing other people struggling with the same thing.
People who weren't necessarily without resources.
They were disconnected from them.
That's when my frustration turned into an idea.
And, if I'm putting it the way I actually felt at the time:
Fuck it. If I can't find the place I needed, I'll help build it.
I'll build something for people like me.
A place where having a mental illness doesn't make your voice less important.
A place where being homeless doesn't make you invisible.
A place where addiction doesn't make you disposable.
A place where somebody doesn't need to understand the entire system before they're allowed to ask for help.
That's what Save Tomorrow Project means to me.
It isn't about pretending that we're going to solve everybody's problems.
It's about making sure somebody has somewhere to start.
We listen.
We figure out what's standing in the way.
We help with the barrier when we can.
We connect people with organizations that can provide the services they need.
And whenever possible, we don't just hand somebody a phone number and call that success. We want to know whether they actually made it through the next door.
Save Tomorrow started with fentanyl awareness because we're losing far too many people to overdoses. That work remains part of who we are.
But I've learned that saving somebody's tomorrow can start long before an overdose, a hospitalization, an eviction, or another crisis.
Sometimes it starts with food.
Sometimes it's an ID.
Sometimes it's transportation.
Sometimes it's charging a phone.
Sometimes it's finding the right organization.
And sometimes somebody simply needs another human being to listen long enough to understand what they're trying to say.
That's the organization I'm trying to build.
I'm not asking you to donate because I have all the answers.
I'm asking because I know what it's like not to know where to find them.
Your contribution helps us build the Resource Bank, conduct outreach, provide education, train volunteers, verify resources, develop partnerships, purchase supplies and technology, cover startup and operating expenses, and begin proving that this model can work.
We're going to start with what we can responsibly do.
We're going to measure whether it actually helps.
We're going to learn from the people we're serving.
And then we're going to grow.
Start. Measure. Grow.
Because I can't change everything that happened yesterday.
But I can use it to help somebody tomorrow.
And maybe the things that once made me feel like I had nothing left to offer can become part of the reason somebody else doesn't have to feel that way.
Save a mother. Save a brother. Save a stranger. Save each other.
Save tomorrow, starting with today.
This is Save Tomorrow Project.
A place to start.