Day 05

A time you thought about ending your own life.

Depressed people have been classified so due to suicidal thoughts. I've had a fair share similar fantasies. Sometimes they've been thoughts of me dying, what it would be like if I died. Sometimes they have been of me committing suicide and the aftermath. I've rarely thought of methods of killing myself. I've sliced, I've thought about drowning. This is the one and only time I actually considered committing suicide.

It had just been revealed that my mom cheated on my dad and they had separated, my mom was mad at me because on one of those nights after dinner, we were having an argument about the state of our family and a plate broke and I picked up a shard and threatened to kill myself, and she slapped me for even saying that in front of her. My first boyfriend had just broken up with me in light of family turmoil. It was my mistake for making him my life. I felt like there was no reason to live, all these things happened within a few days. No one else could understand what I was going through. I didn't know anyone with divorced parents or anyone who had broken up with a first boyfriend of almost 2 years. So one day after school I turned off my phone and waited until I thought everyone (or almost everyone) had left school. It was around 5 PM. I took off my pink boots and climbed onto the ledge of the 2nd floor of the 1000 building, right over Mr. Mamer's room. I sat there, maybe for 15 minutes, crying and staring at the grass and concrete, pondering how accurately I'd have to fall to get on the concrete and not the grass mixed in with all the thoughts of despair and hurt, before I realized that I didn't want to die, that I just wanted to be held and told that everything would be all right. I just wanted support. I wanted someone who could tell me that these events are part of life, that I just got hit by a double whammy so I'd feel twice the pain, but that life works itself out in the end. So, I climbed back down and cried, next to the stairs. My ex's mom found me. The first thing she did was cry. My mom had called the police. I left my pink boots up there; I never wanted to wear them again.