Mental Health Paperclip: A Surprisingly Powerful Tool from the World of John Wick
- Bruce Schutter
- Jul 25
- 7 min read
It was one of those crisp mornings where the world feels alive, and so do you. I was sitting at a café, sipping coffee, when I saw him. John Wick, in all his brooding, stylish glory, walked in like he owned the place. People stared, unsure whether to ask for a selfie or run for cover.
“Bruce,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “It’s been a while.” “John,” I replied, smiling. “Still assassinating bad guys and looking good doing it?”
He smirked. “Something like that. But today, I’m here to talk about mental health. Specifically, how a simple paperclip can help you become an unstoppable Mental Health Warrior.”
And apparently, John had found a way to bring his own creative spin to it using a—PAPERCLIP!
Warrior Story
Now, I got ahead of myself. John isn’t just an assassin extraordinaire — he also knows my story. And he’s a strong believer in the Mental Health Warrior Program.
I created that program after spending 20 years battling Bipolar, Alcoholism, Anxiety Disorders and PTSD — struggles that left me feeling so powerless, I tried to end my life.
But in that dark time, I discovered something life-changing: mental health is the key to triumphing over any challenge.
Armed with that knowledge, I built the Mental Health Warrior Program — a bold new SELF-HELP approach that puts YOU in charge! So you can take charge of your emotions, conquer life’s challenges and build the life you really want!
But back to John's revelation.
“You’re telling me,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “that a paperclip is some kind of secret mental health weapon?”
“Absolutely,” John replied, pulling one from his pocket and placing it on the table with the kind of precision that made the barista back away slowly.
And with that, John shared 5 ways to overcome mental health challenges… using a PAPERCLIP!
Tool 1: Ground Yourself in the Here and Now
“Sometimes, anxiety makes you feel like you’re spiraling,” John said, turning the paperclip slowly between his fingers. “Like your brain is racing through every worst-case scenario at once.
But here’s the trick—the body can’t be in two places at once. So I use the paperclip to anchor myself to right here, right now.”
He slid it across the table. “Hold it. Feel the coolness of the metal. Run your finger along the bend. Focus on the pressure in your fingertips, the resistance of the wire, the weight. It’s just a paperclip — but it’s real, and it’s now. And that’s where your strength lives.”
He looked me dead in the eye. “Your breath + your body + a paperclip = instant presence.”
Bruce’s Takeaway:
I nodded. “That’s genius.” With anxiety, my thoughts can spiral like a hamster on espresso — bouncing from what ifs to oh no’s in seconds. I’ve tried grounding techniques before, but something about holding a simple object like a paperclip just... works.
It’s not fancy. It’s not complicated. And that’s the beauty of it.
Now when I feel my chest tighten or my thoughts start racing, I grab something small — yes, a paperclip — and give my brain a place to land. I breathe. I feel grounded.
Because sometimes the first step to conquering anxiety isn’t fixing the future — it’s showing up in the present.
Tool 2: Fidget for Focus
“Ever feel like your mind’s all over the place?” John asked, holding up the paperclip like it was forged by the gods of calm.
“Twist it. Bend it. Straighten it out, then curl it back again. Use it as a fidget tool. That nervous energy? You don’t have to fight it — you can channel it. Let the paperclip give your hands a job so your brain can breathe.”
He leaned in, voice low. “It’s controlled chaos. Focus in motion.”
Bruce’s Takeaway:
“That’s perfect for me,” I chimed in. When my bipolar symptoms flare — especially on the high-energy, restless days — it can feel like my brain’s trying to run three marathons at once while my body’s trapped in a meeting, a car ride, or a grocery store line.
In the past, I’d get fidgety and self-conscious — like I was broadcasting my overwhelm to the world. But this? This is stealth-mode regulation.
Now I carry a paperclip in my pocket. No one thinks twice about it. But for me, it’s a lifeline. When I feel my thoughts racing or my body buzzing, I fidget quietly. I redirect the static. I focus.
Because being a Warrior doesn’t always mean stillness — sometimes it means moving just enough to stay in control.
Tool 3: Create a Symbol of Strength
“Bend the paperclip into the shape of something that symbolizes strength for you,” John said, his tone calm but firm. “A heart, a shield, a tiny sword — doesn’t matter what it is. What matters is what it means to you.”
He pulled a twisted paperclip from his pocket. It looked like a rough triangle — not quite a perfect shape, but unmistakably intentional. “This one’s a blade,” he said. “Crude, yeah. But it reminds me that I’m armed — not just physically, but mentally. Even in the quiet moments.”
“Turn something ordinary into a reminder that you are warrior strong!”
Bruce’s Takeaway:
I grinned. “I’d make mine into a Warrior’s shield.”
Living with PTSD, there are days when just leaving the house feels like walking onto a battlefield. My heart races, my thoughts scan for threats that aren’t there, and the emotional weight can feel like armor I didn’t ask for.
But creating a symbol — something small, personal, and tangible — gives me something to hold onto. A bent paperclip in the shape of a shield isn’t just a fidget or a novelty… it’s a quiet declaration: I’m still here. I’m still standing. And I’ve fought harder battles than this one.
Tool 4: Visualize Breaking Free
“Take the paperclip,” John said, pulling another one from his jacket pocket and slowly straightening it out, “and imagine it as the chains that hold you back. Fear. Addiction. Shame. Self-doubt.”
He paused, holding the straightened wire between his fingers. “Then bend it into a new shape — something that represents your breakthrough. A lightning bolt. An arrow. A flame.
The moment you reshape it, you’re reminding yourself: I’m not stuck. I’m evolving!”
Bruce’s Takeaway:
“That’s powerful,” I said, running my thumb along the table. When I think about my battle with alcoholism, I think of it as a chain. A cold, heavy chain that once wrapped itself around every decision I made, every emotion I tried to escape, every relationship I quietly eroded.
So the idea of straightening a paperclip — turning it into the very thing that once held me down — and then reshaping it into something new? That hits deep.
I could turn it into an arrow. Something simple, forward-moving. A reminder that I’m no longer stuck in that cycle.
Because the past may shape you… but it doesn’t have to define the shape you take next.
Tool 5: Set Tiny Goals
“Straighten the paperclip and mark small increments on it,” John explained, pulling a pen from his jacket pocket and carefully drawing tiny notches along the length of the wire. “Each mark represents a small, achievable step toward a bigger goal.”
He placed the marked-up paperclip on the table between us. “Every time you hit one of those steps — get out of bed, send that hard email, drink water instead of alcohol — you move your finger to the next notch.”
He looked at me. “You feel it. You see it. Progress isn’t just in your head — it’s right there in your hand. That’s how you build momentum — not by leaping mountains, but by conquering inches.”
Bruce’s Takeaway:
“I love that,” I said. Living with bipolar disorder, goal-setting can feel like a cruel joke. One day I’m on fire, making lists and conquering the world — and the next, just brushing my teeth feels like a full-time job. Big goals become overwhelming. Paralyzing, even.
But breaking them into micro-steps I can physically track? That’s a game changer.
Now I carry a straightened paperclip with tiny marks scratched in. Each one represents something small but meaningful: make the bed, take a walk, write for five minutes. When I hit one, I move my finger to the next.
Because sometimes the path to healing isn’t a giant leap — it’s a series of tiny victories lined up in steel.
A New Warrior Mental Health Tool
“John,” I said, laughing, “leave it to you to turn an ordinary office supply into a powerful mental health tool. I have to admit — these ideas are brilliant.”
John shrugged, his usual stoic demeanor softening into a faint smile. “It’s not about the paperclip, Bruce. It’s about the mindset. A warrior sees tools and possibilities everywhere — they’re always ready to adapt and overcome.”
He handed me a small stack of paperclips. “Take these. Spread the word. In times like these, a little creativity can go a long way in helping people manage their mental health.”
I pocketed the paperclips, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “You know, John, you’re not just a legendary assassin... you’re a true Mental Health Warrior.”
Wrap Up
I walked away with a pocket full of paperclips and a heart full of gratitude.
John and I both knew that in today’s chaotic and turbulent world, mental health tools like these are more important than ever — not just for survival, but for strength, clarity, and resilience.
As I headed off to share this newfound wisdom with others, I couldn’t help but smile. Who would’ve thought that a warrior’s arsenal could include something as simple as a paperclip? Yet here we were — armed and ready to face life’s challenges, with one small, creative Warrior tool in hand.
Because that’s what being a Mental Health Warrior is all about: finding the strength to overcome mental health challenges… even in the smallest of things!
Bruce Schutter
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