The Day After I Killed Myself

Last night was too much. I couldn’t bear another night of crying myself to sleep, of screaming into my pillow and praying for the pain to stop. I was tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of not being able to get out of bed. Tired of nobody caring. I was tired of being alone but also hated being with others, because they couldn’t understand the constant pain I was in.

So I killed myself.

The next morning, the sun rose, the birds sang, and the frost melted. My loved ones woke up, and with a good night’s sleep my best friend forgot about the stupid argument we’d had the night before, the kids that teased me in the hallway had other things to worry about, and my mom, after having time to think about it, decided to hear my side of things before making the decision that I felt was so unfair. The boy that broke my heart was just another face in the crowd because I’d had time to heal. My therapist had a great session planned for us to make another breakthrough with my depression, and my psychiatrist had a new medicine in mind for me to try.

A new kid moved in down the street who was also in need of friends, and we had so much in common. She could be my best friend. But I would never know because I killed myself last night.

My loved one’s worlds’ were ripped apart — my mother felt like her entire Earth was shattered, my brother decided once and for all that the world was against him, and my Grandparents (who have always had a deep faith) felt that God had forsaken them.

My friends went through every interaction we’d had for the last week, analyzing it, thinking how they should’ve known, how they could’ve stopped me, how if only they would’ve done something. They will never be the same.

My teammates were shocked and confused. They thought our bond was deep, how could I have not come to them?

The teachers at my school and the mentors/coaches in my community were in a state of shock. How could this have happened? How could a child they spent their entire day investing in have gone to such a place without them knowing? Some thought back to my vacant expression over the last few days and thought “I could’ve been there for her.”

All the people who I had thought forgot I existed banded together. There was a candlelit vigil at my school and a celebration of life on my campus. So many people came out and shared stories of how I had touched their lives. I will never know the positive impact I had on others because I took that chance away from myself.

My community rallied around my memory and vowed not to let another child go down the same path. They posted Facebook statuses with suicide hotline numbers and promised to talk to their kids about their feelings. I could’ve talked to my loved ones about my feelings, but that felt too impossible, so instead, I killed myself.