Trigger warning: suicide.
She doesn’t understand why I want to be by myself. She thinks I don’t love her but it’s not that. I love her so much. I wish she knew how much I loved her but it’s just not enough for her somehow. She says that I hate people. I don’t know; I just need to be by myself so that I can hear my own thoughts. My own thoughts are so scary sometimes but if I don’t hear them that I don’t understand who I am. I don’t even know who I am because I’ve been told I’m someone else to everyone else in my life. And I don’t know who that person is. I’m not allowed to be who I want to be I can only view others want me to be. That’s not fair or right. When I was a boy I was it fun of on the playground for talking to myself. They didn’t understand that I was hearing voices. It was embarrassing and when I went home to go to sleep at night I would talk to my stuffed animals and ask them why? I wonder why the kids couldn’t see what I saw. I wondered why was I so weird; what was wrong with me?
It was like I had a superpower I didn’t ask for. I didn’t want to be weird. But all kids thought I was so I adopted that identity thinking that maybe weird with something different. Not knowing that weird would get me into trouble later. That’s where I met her. We were both in that white wall place when we were 16 and I fell in love with her but she didn’t understand why didn’t want to talk to her all the time. It was my head. It hurt so much and when they gave me medicine it made it hurt less but then I was a zombie.
She stayed no matter what. Even when I didn’t talk to her she stayed. She held me while I cried in the rec room. The art supplies were there for art therapy. People were watching some mindless TV. They were laughing at things that weren’t funny. I wanted to laugh too, but I didn’t care about anything. She told me it was going to get better. That the meds would start working and I wouldn’t feel empty anymore. She said that she was finally safe from her father. He used to come into her room at night and…she stopped. She couldn’t tell me any longer. I told her when she was ready she could. But she never did. She just held me while I cried. She was always there. Always.
Until one day she was gone.
They came and her room was closed off. The police were there. I tried to push past them. I screamed and demanded I see inside. But she was gone. They restrained me and made me go back to my room.
I will never forget what she did for me. I’m here with my daughter now. She is playing hospital with her stuffed animals. I see a little bit of her in my little girl. The way she cares. I hope she never lets go of that quality. I hope she never has to feel what I felt. If she does, I will be there and I won’t leave. Ever.
If you are thinking about harming yourself please seek help. Call the national lifeline Call 1-800-273-8255.