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1brokengirl These are the thoughts and ramblings of someone who knows what it feels like to be broken down, messed up, and screwed over, survive, then start all over.


Broken and Hating Suicide

Jan 25 2012

  One of my friends tried to kill himself last night. Well, actually, he threatened to, then started talking like he had overdosed, then fell asleep and wouldn't answer me. I freaked out andran to get my mom, who, after many failed attempts at trying to reach him, called his mom. Turns out, everything is fine. But in that moment, I wasn't.

  I finally realize how awful it is for me to think about killing myself when times get bad. This guy and I are very close, so when he started saying all that mess about how "everything will be like it needs to be soon enough", I completely panicked. I lost it. I cried until I made myself sick, I was shaking so hard I could barely stand up, I couldn't even form sentences at one point. I realized that if this is the effect that it had on me with a close friend, how much more painful is it when it's your own family?

  My mom's best friend was her cousin. They grew up together. They were about the same age. They had a lot in common; they even both had three kids: mom had three girls, and he had three boys. But one day, this man came into our house depressed, and sat down to tell my mom that he was planning on killing himself. She immediately went into panic mode, but she tried to stay calm for him. They sat at our kitchen table and talked for hours, and when he left, he seemed better.

  He shot himself in the head the next week. It nearly destroyed my mom.

  I kept thinking about that last night when I was waiting to hear back from my friend. I kept thinking about how I had thought that I had calmed him down, and how he seemed to be ok. I started asking myself what I could've done differently to help, but nothing I thought of was good enough. I realize now that if he had really wanted to kill himself, he would have done it, no matter what I said or did. But last night, that wasn't my line of thinking.

  I don't ever want to cause that kind of pain and sheer terror in my family or even my friends. I know that when you're depressed, suicide seems to be the right answer. But it's not. It never is. It only causes your loved ones to become depressed because of what you did, then they could end up doing the same thing you did. If someone killed their self because they were depressed over my suicide, their blood would be on my hands. And dead or not, I couldn't handle that.

  I don't know why I'm saying all of this. Maybe someone needs to hear it. Maybe someone needs to know that it isn't the answer, but it makes the problem even bigger. Maybe, just maybe, these words could save someone's life. But then again, maybe not. Maybe it's just for my own sake. Either way, I've gained a new level of hatred for suicide and depression.

 

-1 Broken Girl 



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