The Day After I Killed Myself

The world kept turning, but I wasn’t there to see it

Last night was too much. I couldn’t bare 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 ones 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 been struggling and not let a single one of them know it?

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.

But I wasn’t there – not for the vigils, the remembrance of life, the funeral. I wasn’t there for the day my brother got married. I will never graduate college and change lives like I’d always dreamed. I’m not going to be a wife and mother to the most incredible family I could ever imagine. My life ended before these people were able to show me how much they loved me. I never got to experience life on the right medications with consistent therapy. I never saw the sun come up and the storm clouds drift away.

And I never will…..

Because I killed myself.

“Suicide does not end the pain you’re in, it only guarantees that it will never get better.”

Those words resonated with me when I was at my worst because they are so true. Sometimes suicide feels like the only way out, but it’s not. The only true way to beat the pain is to go to therapy, to take your meds, and to never give up. Because one day, I promise you, it will all be worth it.

From one survivor to another, YOU CAN DO THIS!


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