TATTOOED, TESTED, AND TOURING: SKA DEFINES WHO I AM AS A PERSON.

PRSL
May 4
3 min read

photos taken by the incredible Amanda @devlee.jpg

We just wrapped the first week of tour with Save Ferris and Keep Flying,

In just one week, we’ve swabbed over 50 new potential donors for the bone marrow registry. That’s 50 new chances at life for someone desperately waiting. But it wasn’t just about numbers. We had deep, beautiful conversations every night—people sharing their stories, asking questions about the registry, telling us about their own mental health journeys or their loved ones lost to cancer. This tour isn’t just music and missions colliding—it’s connection in its purest form.

All photos in this blog post were taken by the incredible Amanda. You can hit her up for photos at devlee.jpg@gmail.com. She is taking photos for Keep Flying but making sure we get some great shots.

But while the shows were full of love and energy, behind the booth—and behind the smile—I was dealing with some of the darkest mental health moments I’ve had on tour this year. The kind that hit in the quiet after the music stops, or in the cracks between conversations. Touring with a nonprofit isn’t always loud and bright—it’s also lonely, exhausting, and mentally brutal at times. And I don’t want to pretend otherwise.

I've lived with depression for a long time, but it's been a while since it pulled me this deep—into that making-a-plan kind of darkness. The weight of feeling like a burden, the desperate wish for things to just feel lighter, and the all-consuming heaviness… it was overwhelming. It was scary. It was dark. I am truly thankful I was on tour because the idea of creating an issue because I wanted an escape was enough to keep me grounded. Kept me on this planet.

Still… I’m here. We're here. The bands have welcomed us with open arms and full hearts. The people we’ve met have made every heavy mile worth it. And the mission? It’s still everything. Ska might be upbeat—but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about the hard stuff too. Obviously, that’s very much my brand—smiling through the tears, cracking jokes while quietly unraveling, doing my best not to hide it. And I won’t. Because here at Punk Rock Saves Lives, we do not believe in keeping mental health and depression in the dark. We talk about it. We show up with it. We give it space in the van, at the merch table, in the middle of a ska set. Because pretending everything’s fine doesn’t save lives—honesty and vulnerability do.

And speaking of showing up—Save Ferris and Keep Flying have done exactly that. These bands aren’t just giving us space—they’re lifting us up. Shout-outs from the stage. Checking in every night. Asking how things are going, how I’m doing. It’s rare and it’s special.

Bonus shout-out to Henry from Keep Flying for helping me drive. If you know me, you know that’s a big freaking deal. Driving kicks my ass, and having someone step in like that? That’s hero-level kindness.

The Stories Fueling the Mission

This week brought more than numbers—it brought moments I’ll carry for a long time:

A mother starting an art nonprofit in honor of her daughter who died by suicide—putting art in inpatient rooms to bring color to the darkest places.
A woman who escaped a 14-year abusive relationship, now turning her pain into action through a cold case nonprofit and safety advocacy.
A man proudly telling me he’s three months clean at a punk show.
A woman still grieving a friend lost to fentanyl just weeks ago.
Stories of recovery, resilience, and refusal to give up.

And of course, Mike Peters—the reason we set a goal of 10,000 swabs in 2025—passed this week. His fight against cancer and his impact on this mission lives in everything we do. Mike, we carry you with us. Every night. Every swab. Every ska song. We will SAVE LIVES ONE CONCERT AT A TIME. That’s the first leg of the tour on a broad scale. We’ve got more cities, more stories, and more chaos ahead. Stick with us for the highs and lows. The laughter and the breakdowns. The life-saving swabs and the late-night sobs.

We’re here for all of it. And we’re not done yet.