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Suicidal Little Me
People seem to think depression is a phase. Something everyone goes through at some point in their lives. These people are wrong. I know, because I have these people for parents.
For the last two years of my life i have lived with a man and woman who seem to think depression will go away with the blink of an eye. So I indulge them, I pretend I'm happy and content. In truth; I live in a constant state of lies and pain that no one seems to be able to see.
My words to others who live like I do? Simple; "Fuck them, it's not worth the pain it costs you to pretend. I know, I'm here, and i hate it almost as much as i hate myself."
Memory at 13: "Ok, so one day i come down stairs from my room, and theres my mom, glaring at me like it was my fault i was alive. I just stand there and feel bored, as usual.
"What have you dont this time?" She asks me, she's still glaring at me. I just shrug and look behind her at the wall. "I got a letter today. From the principal." She says. I'm not surprised, iv'e known my mom and the principal were fucking for years. So he was sending love letters now, I really didn't give a shit.
"It said you had been expelled from school yestarday." She says, I just stand there staring off into space considering her words. "Yep." Is my answer, and she doesn't like it.
So that night i get yelled at alot, grounded (like it mattered) and get my cell taken away. None of it matters to me, i just go up to my room and get on my computer. I open my chat box and start talking to my friend, Katie. We get to talking about life and shit like that and I tell her about a decision i had made. I was going to end my existence as a miserable 13 year old girl living in hell. I asked her if she would tell Dad that I was sorry. She begged me not to do it, but I wouldn't listen, i made her promise then logged out.
An hour later I was sitting in the old cemetary, a knife to my wrist, and a suicide note clipped to my twin brothers grave marker. He had been dead four years that day. I had been bullied, threatened, and shamed all those long four years. I wouldn't put up with it anymore, so I sat there, an empty pack of cigarettes I had swiped from my mom (and already smoked) in front of me, a lighter in my pocket, and a knife at my wrist. I was going to so it.
I sat there a minute then dug the blade into my wrist, watched the red river run, and felt the first whisp of relief i had felt in years. A voice screaming my name made me look up to see Katie running toward me with a cop, my dad, and a paramedic. I don't know what made me do it, but for some reason, I dropped the blade, I had more than enough time to slit the other wrist, but I just dropped the damned knife like some wimp who didn't really want to die."
The paramedic had me fixed up in no time and wanted to know why I had done it. I wouldn't answer her, or the cop, or anyone else. They hauled me back to that personal hell of mine and I just ran to my room.
My first suicide attempt, it failed. My second? Oh what an hour.
Memory age 14 (Katie; age 16): I was at a party, lots of 'friends' and 'pals' all around. I was depressed and angry at the whole fucking world. I went to the kitchen and leaned against a counter. A week before my best friend had been on her way to visit me when a drunk driver had rammed her head on at ninety miles an hour on ice covered roads. Katie had died, I had lived trough the funerals, the veiwing, and the 'condolences' from 'conerned neighbors and friends'. But I hadn't wanted to. Looking around I had seen a knife on the counter and picked it up, no one else in the room noticed, they were all either making out or too drunk to notice. So I lifted the knife to my throut and pressed, but stopped. It had been a years since my suicide attempt, and since my dad had always stuck as close to me as he could. He would have died to find out I had killed myslef at this stupid party. I looked around, still no one noticed the crazy chick decled in black with a knife to her throut. I set the knife down and walked away. not for me, for my dad."
Jonathon Sanders- 1982- 2009
For the last two years of my life i have lived with a man and woman who seem to think depression will go away with the blink of an eye. So I indulge them, I pretend I'm happy and content. In truth; I live in a constant state of lies and pain that no one seems to be able to see.
My words to others who live like I do? Simple; "Fuck them, it's not worth the pain it costs you to pretend. I know, I'm here, and i hate it almost as much as i hate myself."
Memory at 13: "Ok, so one day i come down stairs from my room, and theres my mom, glaring at me like it was my fault i was alive. I just stand there and feel bored, as usual.
"What have you dont this time?" She asks me, she's still glaring at me. I just shrug and look behind her at the wall. "I got a letter today. From the principal." She says. I'm not surprised, iv'e known my mom and the principal were fucking for years. So he was sending love letters now, I really didn't give a shit.
"It said you had been expelled from school yestarday." She says, I just stand there staring off into space considering her words. "Yep." Is my answer, and she doesn't like it.
So that night i get yelled at alot, grounded (like it mattered) and get my cell taken away. None of it matters to me, i just go up to my room and get on my computer. I open my chat box and start talking to my friend, Katie. We get to talking about life and shit like that and I tell her about a decision i had made. I was going to end my existence as a miserable 13 year old girl living in hell. I asked her if she would tell Dad that I was sorry. She begged me not to do it, but I wouldn't listen, i made her promise then logged out.
An hour later I was sitting in the old cemetary, a knife to my wrist, and a suicide note clipped to my twin brothers grave marker. He had been dead four years that day. I had been bullied, threatened, and shamed all those long four years. I wouldn't put up with it anymore, so I sat there, an empty pack of cigarettes I had swiped from my mom (and already smoked) in front of me, a lighter in my pocket, and a knife at my wrist. I was going to so it.
I sat there a minute then dug the blade into my wrist, watched the red river run, and felt the first whisp of relief i had felt in years. A voice screaming my name made me look up to see Katie running toward me with a cop, my dad, and a paramedic. I don't know what made me do it, but for some reason, I dropped the blade, I had more than enough time to slit the other wrist, but I just dropped the damned knife like some wimp who didn't really want to die."
The paramedic had me fixed up in no time and wanted to know why I had done it. I wouldn't answer her, or the cop, or anyone else. They hauled me back to that personal hell of mine and I just ran to my room.
My first suicide attempt, it failed. My second? Oh what an hour.
Memory age 14 (Katie; age 16): I was at a party, lots of 'friends' and 'pals' all around. I was depressed and angry at the whole fucking world. I went to the kitchen and leaned against a counter. A week before my best friend had been on her way to visit me when a drunk driver had rammed her head on at ninety miles an hour on ice covered roads. Katie had died, I had lived trough the funerals, the veiwing, and the 'condolences' from 'conerned neighbors and friends'. But I hadn't wanted to. Looking around I had seen a knife on the counter and picked it up, no one else in the room noticed, they were all either making out or too drunk to notice. So I lifted the knife to my throut and pressed, but stopped. It had been a years since my suicide attempt, and since my dad had always stuck as close to me as he could. He would have died to find out I had killed myslef at this stupid party. I looked around, still no one noticed the crazy chick decled in black with a knife to her throut. I set the knife down and walked away. not for me, for my dad."
Jonathon Sanders- 1982- 2009
Published 30th Dec 2010
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31st Dec 2010 00:03am
this is a nice write has lots of emotions in it but if this is true you might want to talk with someone like a school counciler or a friend you might need some help getting over whatever is bothering you noone has to deal with that ... a friend of mine in highschool sarah shot herself and the aftermath and distruction it brought on the ppl who loved her was very hard to watch her brother found her and it ruined him he has never been the same since suicide is never the answer
31st Dec 2010 1:07am
No, it is not my story, this is the story of a very close friend who was my age and commited sucide last year after her fathers death. She told me all of this. She had just moved to my town a month before she commited suicide. We were good friends and she told me everything that had happened to her. She lived three months after her father died.
31st Dec 2010 1:23am
31st Dec 2010 1:42am
4th Mar 2011 6:12pm
and depressing.
How one girl could deal with so much, cause i dont think i could.
your a good person for telling her story.(:
How one girl could deal with so much, cause i dont think i could.
your a good person for telling her story.(:
6th Mar 2011 3:59pm
Thanks, she was a good friend, I loved her very much. It is, and trust me it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart, but that I was pretty much her twin there too. Only the slight diff that I didn't die. She was a great girl, we were closer than sisters.
