Goodbye Cruel World

That one time I was going to kill myself.

In 2012 I tried my best to die.

I, obviously failed.

This is the story of how I got to that point, and what led me away from it.

Some heads up: The following essay/rant/blog post deals a lot with depression and suicide. If you yourself are feeling like you want to die, please stop reading and seek help.

I recommend the National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

I know a lot of people are scared of calling, but getting help and getting better isn’t going to be easy. You can do it.

Back to the post.

Some back story:

If you read my previous post “It’s okay to cry” you know that I grew up really emotionally stunted.

Combine that with a consistent stream of domestic violence and absuse, and you don’t really get to learn how to have a proper relationship.

You learn all the ways to not have one. You learn all the ways to not treat someone you “love”.

I never had any interest in any gender growing up. I was afraid to show interest because I didn’t want my dad to make fun of me at home. That, and I didn’t know how to properly deal with those emotions.

Also some needed context: I refer to my parents in this story, and then later mention my Aunt and Uncle. They are one in the same.

In my Junior Year of highschool, I met a girl. We’ll call her Alex. She was a freshman. And we both got really, really infatuated with each other.

I won’t call it love, because looking back on it, it was a combination of obsession, depression, and lust.

It wasn’t love. I still don’t know if I know what actual love is. I think I’m close to figuring it out but that’s a story for a different time.

We were each other’s everything, and it went lot to us to get the other to care more and more.

I lied about being injured, she lied about dead realitives. It became a toxic hell hole with no escape, just escalation.

And I’m leaving a lot out, mainly because I don’t remember it, but it got really bad for both sides.

When summer time came, we both knew we really wouldn’t see each other during the summer, but we tried to stay in contact. We would text a lot.

Things got even worse. Both of our parents saw that it wasn’t a healthy relationship, and broke it off for us. I was devestated.

My entire time at highschool I didn’t really have any close friends, especially that summer. I tried to do things with people, to starve off the loneliness, but no one wanted to hang out, or was even available.

It was like I stopped... existing.

More and more I tried to get noticed. I went on walks around my neighborhood looking for kids doing something, or I would walk down to the Walmart and try and find something going on, but it was like I was invisible.

When my parents would come home for the evening, I would sit in my room and hide. I didn’t want then to know how much it hurt to wake up in the morning. I couldn’t bare to try and explain it.

Ive been in therapy on and off since I was 9. At this time, I was going weekly.

I was on meds.

None of it was helping.

I opened up about the way I was feeling to my therapist and he tried to help. He tried to convince me that everything would be okay and that I just needed to stick it out. I should try looking for a summer job to keep myself busy.

I tried that. Every place I applied that was in walking distance threw out my application when they saw I wasn’t 18 yet. And I didn’t have transportation to go get a job at the mall or a fast food restaurant.

I sank deeper and deeper into my depression and exile.

When school started I was going to be a senior. It was supposed to be an exciting time for me. Last year before the real world began.

But here’s the thing. My last year of high school was… different. It didn’t go the way a lot of stereotypical senior years go.

You see, the strangest thing happened when school started.

Everyone wanted to talk to me.

Everyone wanted to know what I had been up to.

I all of a sudden had friends after three months of struggling to find any.

It was painful. I couldn’t handle going from no friends to all of a sudden being needed. I was on edge mentally.

During the summer I had gone through my parents room, looking for my phone after they had taken it away during the break up.

During my search I found a revolver.

I didn’t dare touch it. I knew how to fire it.

Cock the hammer, make sure the safety is off and fire.

I got really, really nervous and pushed the discovery to the back of my head.

During my time back at school, that discovery rebubbled. It felt like my conscious had snapped, that I should be invisible, that it wasn’t right for them to want to be around me.

It wasn’t until the third day of Senior year, that after second period I saw her.

Alex.

I ran up to her and tried to get her to talk to me. She refused to speak to me, and told me to get lost.

That I was better off dead.

I stood there in the hallway as people shuffled into class. The bell rang. It felt like there was a dark pit inside of me and I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to die.

I then did the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

I went to my counselor. I sat down across from her. She was really happy to see me, it had been three months since we spoken and she always had high hopes for me.

She asked “What can I do for you Jacob?”

I couldn’t speak. I tried but all that came out were sobs. I started crying profusely.

She got up, walked over, and sat in the chair next to mine. She placed her hand on mine and asked me

“Hey, woah, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I slowly shook my head. I managed to choke out what was wrong.

“I want to die.”

She immediately went silent.

She asked me to stand up and led me to a separate room, away from everything. She told me to sit right there, and that if I needed anything they were watching me through the glass door. She gave me a box of tissues.

It felt like hours but my uncle eventually came and got me.

In reality I think it was 20 minutes.

He gave me a really long hug, and escorted me to the car. He explained to me that they were taking me to a safe place where I could get help.

I then went to a behavioral health center for youth, since I was 17 and not 18.

It took awhile to get in. I could barely see through my tears, and my uncle had to fill out a bunch of paperwork.

I was surrounded by kids of so many ages, all of which wanted to die. I was kept there for four days for evaluation and remedication.

The time I spent inside there wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.

I was sure that after going there I would be significantly more Happy. That it would be only weeks after going, and I’d feel normal again.

A feeling that was so far gone to me.

I didn’t. But it started the path to get better.

I have never known more than every before that I wasnt alone then when my aunt came in, and told me she was so sorry that she had failed me and that it was her fault. I still remember the tears down her eyes as she hugged me tighter than I thought was possible for someone of her size.

My parents blamed themselves deeply for the way I had been feeling, that they hadn’t done a good enough job.

That one moment made me realize that someone always cares about you, even when you think they don’t.

When you are at your absolute most alone, there is someone out there who wants to be your friend. Someone out there cares about you, even if you don’t realize it.

We never know how much we affect each other until it’s way too late.

If there’s something you want to say to someone, and you haven’t, like “I love you” or “hey, I really appreciate what you do for me” don’t wait any longer.

When your done reading this, think about the relationships you have in your life. Do you wish they were deeper or that you said more?

This your chance to fix it.

I know you can do it.

That was six years ago. Since then I’ve become more emotionally stable, and I’ve had deep relationships with my family and friends.

And while I may still not be sure what love is, I think if I stick with the people I’m with now, one day l be sure.

And hey, you’re never alone.

Just like I tell my dear friend, my love, Keep your head up, and always look forward.

You’ll get better. It’s just going to take time.

Until next time,

Peace.