Not a 13 Reason's Why fanfic, but this work of fiction WAS inspired by my own experience with grief and aftermath of losing my cousin to suicide. Reading Jay Asher's book 13 Reason's Why and watching his characters be brought to life in the show played a huge role in my character study and the courage it took to place myself into my cousin's mind frame the night his inner struggle took him away from his loved one's left behind. It is my hope if anyone's Reading this and dealing with their own struggles that this story will encourage them to speak up, reach out and seek help. Your life matters, you make a difference to Me and I love you...please don't give up on yourself.
Description: This is a poem about suicide and a reminder to have hope. I have turned the piece into a short story.
Disclaimer: I own this poem 100%, I wrote it. I created the characters from my own life. I am the only Author of this original story.
Author's Note: In no way do I endorse suicide, it does not end one's pain but simply passes it along. Believe me, I speak from personal experience….lost my cousin to suicide a few years back. His death wrecked me, haven't been the same since. If you're hurting reach out and tell someone. It will get easier, don't ever give up on yourselves.
Author's note #2:
This was originally only a poem that I had written earlier this year. I decided to break the piece into sections and tell a story along with it. This is my first work of fiction, I usually write fanfiction. Please keep this in mind when you read this story and only offer helpful criticisms, thank you.
A better Way:
" Decided to take my life today.
Bought a shotgun and some bullets.
Penned a note declaring I was unhappy in this world.
It saddened me how no one cared.
Got up from the bed and ate my breakfast.
Kissed my mother and siblings goodbye.
Gave my father one last hug.
Made sure my family knew I loved them before I left for work." ~~
Chapter #1
Lying awake in bed all night, I cry myself to sleep. Life doesn't make me happy anymore. These days, I cannot catch a break. Over the past few months, I've lost my will to live. What is the point? My job no longer makes me happy. The guy I hoped to spend the rest of my life with? Found out that he had been unfaithful and a liar. We parted ways and I have been in a depressive downward spiral ever since. It used to be easy to cheer myself up.
There was a time whenever I felt down, I'd turned the radio on and sang along to my heart's content. Long walks, hikes in the woods, finding a good book to settle down with and read, painting or drawing are all activities that once brightened up my darkest of days. Now? No matter what I do, malicious and dismal reflections seem to penetrate my mind. At first, it was easy to dismiss the negative notions to harm myself. Whenever such ideas would enter my head, I would ignore or laugh them away.
Over the last six months, this has steadily become challenging, if not impossible, to do. I have tried anything that I could think of to ward off such invasive musings. It is my fear that my family and friends will never understand how exhausting it's been to maintain my "happy" facade. How am I supposed to pretend I'm alright and everything is fine on the outside, when I'm falling to pieces within? I'm fed up with this charade I have been living. Honestly, I'm not sure how much more of this I can bare.
The decision to take my own life wasn't an easy one to make. For a long while, I actively dismissed such horrible notions from my head and heart. With every passing day, the notion grows stronger. Ultimately, those voices in the back of my mind grew louder and more persistent. I have settled on the conclusion that I'm fighting an uphill battle with no chance of reprieve. My resolve is all but gone at this point, as is my will to live.
What once used to fill me with shame and guilt has now become appealing. If it will mean an end to my silenced torture, death sounds all the more welcoming. My mind has been made up for a few weeks. Now? It is only a matter of building up my courage to end it all. What is the point of living if nothing is ever going to get better? Numerous times, I have attempted to reach out to a family member or a friend. Know what their typical response seems to be?
They are always the same, " Why can't you just be happy?", or ," Are you sure you're not just having a bad day? Maybe things will improve tomorrow. Cheer up and smile, will you?", oh and of course my all-time favorite is ," It's been a year, can't you just get over it?" Those words puncture my soul like a dagger to the heart. Eventually, I stopped attempting to reach out altogether. What was the use? It had become increasingly evident that no one cared enough to listen or ask what was weighing on me.
My suffering won't be an issue much longer for myself, let alone my friends and family. The resolution is made up, today will be my last day alive. The plot to end it all is already in motion, there is no turning back now. Not that anyone would even dare to help me even if they knew. Flipping to one of the last pages of my notebook, I spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes penning out the note I'll leave for my loved ones to find. It is my intention to leave my diary and the envelope enclosed with the note I've written on my desk. By the time anyone cares enough to skim over the contents, with luck, the deed will have been completed.
Hearing my mother shout upstairs to me that breakfast is almost ready, I scribble out the last of the note before signing my name. Making my way downstairs, I kiss Mom and each of my siblings before giving my Father one last hug. Sitting down to a hearty meal of bacon and eggs, my gaze wonders from one loved one to the next before falling on my half eaten plate. The notion I'll never see any of them again proves heavy on my heart. Stubbornly, I push those emotions aside. There is no backing out, my plot is already set in motion. There will be no turning back or talking myself out of the deed this time.
Finishing the last of my plate and glass of orange juice, I place both along with my fork in the sink. Realizing I'm going to miss all of them, I give one more round of hugs and kisses before leaving for work. Pausing in the doorway, I stop to take one last long gaze at my Mother, Father, Brother and Sisters. My voice trembles as I recite," I love you.", for the final time. My declaration is met with half hearted responses all around alongside an unenthusiastic," Have a nice day at work, dear."
Without another peep, I turn and walk out of the front door. Tears threaten to fall the second I slip into the driver's seat. Not knowing where else to go, I drive aimlessly through town. The people on the street corners are laughing, smiling, and carrying on without a care in the world. Sitting at a nearby traffic light, I observe a couple holding hands while crossing the road together. Lately, everyone seems to have discovered joy in some aspect of their lives.
There was a time when I often marveled if my turn to find fulfillment would ever arrive. Gradually, I'd resigned myself to the bitter conclusion that I'm simply not meant to experience true bliss. It was then that a bitter resentment began to infiltrate it's way into my heart. Why had it become so effortless for those around me to find love and contentment, when for me it was a constant hardship? The echoes in the distant corners of my mind that were once only a mere whisper, progressively became more intense.
How I quickly grew to despise being alone with my inner demons berating me. " Who could ever love you, Josephine?", they would ridicule. " You're never going to find genuine bliss, what makes you worthy enough to?", another would counter in a piercing hiss. " Joshua will never see you the same as you view him. You're not pretty or smart enough. You'll never amount to anything. You've become quite the burden to your family and friends.", sneers the ever unyielding reiterations much to my dissatisfaction. Nothing I do to silence the damned murmurs seems to help. I've run out of ways to suppress the destructive and disturbing persuasions.
I'm so tired of fighting. What is the use of it? After tonight, my torture and anguish will be over. I've figured out all the minor details. The note I intend to leave for my family and friends to find is lying atop my diary. Both were left in plain sight on my desk. Last week, the gun permit I applied for last month finally came in. Two days ago, I presented said piece of paper to a local gun shop. Insisting that I'd been hoping to find the perfect one for hunting, I procured a rifle along with a small case of thirty o'six cartridges.
The arrangements have been made. There is no turning back now. Everything is already in accordance to agenda. What would be the point of backing out now? Why would I want to prolong my suffering? Not like my life is going to get better anytime soon. Am I going to miss my family? More than anything in the world, I don't want to hurt them. All I want is for this torment to end. I've lost my will to live. Soon, it will all be over, and I'll be just a memory.
Chapter 2
My last day alive passed so quickly.
Did my best to hold back tears.
Come tomorrow morning this pain will disappear.
No one has seen I'm hurting and suffering in vain.
Tired of living in misery.
Been quietly dying in heartbreak.
What's the use of reaching out?
Feels as though no one listens, even when I shout. ~~
Chapter 2
Seconds turned into minutes and those added up to hours. The day seemed to go by so quickly...too quickly, if I am going to be honest. I'm beginning to chicken out. Dying at the tender age of 21 was never my goal. There was a lot that I hoped to accomplish in life. This last year has been hell for me. My older sister lost her battle with breast cancer last August. Making the arrangements for her funeral and burial was the worst hardship of my life. Sarah was only twenty-seven, her life was taken.
My sister's death sent me into a downward spiral. Not long after Sarah was laid to rest, I fell into a deep depression. This took it's toll on every aspect of my life. My friends and family sympathized with me for about three or four months. After then, they urged me to get over the loss of Sarah and move forward with my life. A feat that had come so easily for them, proved impossible for me. Sarah was far from just my older sister...she was my best friend.
We used to spend all of our time together. Hell, I was with Sarah when her radiologist examined her mammogram results. His prognosis left her in tears. All I could do was be there for her. Every treatment and radiation appointment she'd gone to, I was right alongside her. For a year or so we had begun to think the therapy was doing it's job. No sooner had we dared to relax ourselves, had Sarah's health taken a turn for the worst. In the blink of an eye, I watched my sister wither away.
As the cancer slowly overtook her, Sarah's strength had all but diminished. She was always fatigued, her weight and appetite had vanished, most of her time was spent sleeping, activities she once loved were not of interest anymore and eventually Sarah hardly wanted anyone to visit her. I'll never forget the night she had passed. I'd been in the middle of preparing dinner for myself when my mother called. The only words out of her mouth were," Sarah's taken a turn for the worst. You should come see her before it's too late, Josephine."
My mother's words sent me into hysterics. Not wasting any time, I dropped whatever I had been doing and sped to the hospital. How I was not pulled over by a police officer that night, I have no idea. Upon arriving at the hospital, my resolve faltered and all composure and restraint had fled. For nearly twenty minutes, I'd sat behind the wheel and had a full-on meltdown. Once that happened, it was near impossible to calm myself.
Seeing Sarah sprawled out in her hospital bed frail, weak, and ultimately dying? That wrecked me so thoroughly to the point of traumatization. We all spent the night at the hospital that evening. Each of us took turns sitting with Sarah while she slept. At one point, when it was my turn to take up post at her bedside, I'd succumbed to sleep. Waking up an hour or so later to a doctor checking her vitals, he announced she had gone in her sleep. Sarah had slipped away while I had been in the room with her.
My family and I spent the rest of the night crying near Sarah's bedside until the funeral home came. God, I remember going into hysterics when they wheeled her out of the hospital on a gurney. It killed me to know my sister had gone. While a part of me had always known her days with us were limited, I never imagined she'd have left so quickly. After, as I mentioned, I'd fell into a deep depression that I couldn't for the life of me shake.
The icing on the cake? My boyfriend of just about three years severed ties with me. Maybe a few short months after Sarah's funeral, Lucas declared he couldn't be around me anymore. His excuse? He couldn't bare to watch me fall into dispair. That was his rationalization for severing ties with me. Splitting up with Lucas was the last straw for me. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, he was set on ending things between us.
It wasn't until months later I'd discovered the bastard had begun seeing someone else shortly after. This illumination set me off without warning. Out for lunch one afternoon with my friend Joshua, the two of us saw Lucas in a booth a few tables down. With him sat a beautiful auburn haired girl whom I had never met before. A sharp pang arose within my chest the moment his lips met hers. Without another word, I had taken off sobbing.
Following after me in genuine concern, Joshua wondered what had me so distraught. After notifying him that I'd seen Lucas out with another girl, he was livid. His initial reaction was to pound my prick of an exe's face into the pavement. Fortunately, I had managed to persuade him not to bother since Lucas wasn't worth his time, let alone my tears. The rest of our day was spent curled up on Joshua's couch watching silent movies.
This ritual has become one of our favorite pastimes over the years. We both grew up together, I've known Joshua long before either of us could walk. He has lived a few blocks down from me since we were kids. Our parents used to send us on play dates together as kids. The two of us always had a blast running around and causing innocent mischief together. There was a time where I had developed a crush on Joshua briefly in high school.
Nothing had ever come of my adoration for him regrettably. This partly had to do with the notion that I was mortified of Joshua discovering my affection for him. What if he hadn't felt the same? What if, I put myself out there and it ruined our solid companionship? That was not something that I was willing to risk. Instead, I resigned to putting my romantic notions for him aside if only for the sake of our friendship. This was not an easy task to do, but I've learned to guard my emotions well over the years.
Allowing myself time to recompose, I ultimately slide the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life and I drive myself back to the house. Parking in front of the place I call home, I take a glimpse of the time. It's late, just about eleven. By now, everyone should be fast asleep. Then again, this is the weekend. There is bound to be somebody still up. Right now, is not the time. I'll give it another few hours. In the mean time, I can get everything that needs to be done in order. Stepping out of my pickup truck, somehow, I muster up the courage to make my way inside.
Walking through the front door, I immediately perceive that my brother Samuel is the only one still awake. We spend the next hour catching up and chatting about our days. A twinge of remorse courses through me while we talk. What I am about to do is going to break his heart. Part of me wonders if I should open up to him. Could my brother perhaps understand what I am going through? Then again, even if he did, Samuel is not the most sensitive individual.
What if I opened my heart to my brother and he made light of my tribulations? The mere consideration is enough to penetrate my soul. Determining it's better not to speak up, I promptly say goodnight to my brother as the two of us retire to bed. Wasting no time, I set to work immediately. Carefully removing the rifle case from underneath my bed and opening my desk drawer, I find the box of ammunition that I bought the other day.
Chapter 3
Tears stream from my eyes as I load the shotgun.
Wish someone had cared enough to stop me.
Too late, the damage has already been done.
Regret filled my heart the moment I pulled that trigger.
My pain ended swiftly once I fell to the floor.
Staring at my lifeless body, too late to change my mind.
The damage has already been done.
My brother found me lifeless, there was nothing he could do. ~~
My hands shake as I remove the rifle from it's case. Disbursing a few minutes trying to figure out how to load the shot gun, I finally remember the tutorial. Grabbing out a single bullet, I make sure the safety is on, locating the chamber, I load the shotgun shell, hold release and pump the slide back and forth with mild force to load the chamber. Tears stain my cheeks as I sit holding the weapon in my hands. This is it, there is no backing out now. My fate has been sealed.
Sitting on the floor with the pump action in my hands, silent sobs wrack my body. Hard to believe these are my final moments alive. Things could have gone differently. Tragically for me, none of my family and friends took notice of the mental distress I've been secretly struggling with. Not one of the people who supposedly love and care about me, has made it a point to check in with me. This tells me that they're too absorbed in their own lives to notice that I'm drowning in mine.
I'm not placing blame on my family and friends, how could I? For months I have maintained a masquerade of happiness and laughter. If only they could have been more observant or recognized my deception. The only reason I resigned to a joyful charade, was because I didn't want other's to feel as I had. No one should have to wake up loathing themselves. The months went by and what began as only a mild depression grew into an all-consuming sense of hopelessness.
There came a point, when I was no longer able to convince myself that things would get better. As the days trailed on, my sense of cheerful optimism faded and fell away as leaves in the autumn. Ultimately, I made the decision to stop lying to myself. If things haven't improved by now, it is my fear that they never will. Often, I found myself pondering what was the use of trying? The determination to give up was far from an easy one to settle on.
My will to live was strong though it withered with each departing week. Towards the end, whatever strength I had left vanished without warning. Once, I found it effortless to brush off the days ailments. Now, they had become burdensome. Once life had become overwhelming, that's when I first saw ending it all as an option. The second such a dreadful idea entered my mind, how I wanted desperately to dismiss it.
For a short while, I had proven truimphant in doing so. Lucas ending our relationship was the last nail in my coffin. That was three months ago, only six after Sarah had passed. His reasoning for wanting to cut ties was simple, he no longer wanted to witness my downward spiral. Lucas proclaimed that it killed him to watch me fall further into depression. If this were the truth, would he not have remained by my side? Finding my resolve once more, I place the muzzle of the rifle below my jaw line. Squeezing my eyes shut, I whisper a silent prayer from within my heart before releasing the trigger.
A loud piercing bang sounds, one second there's an intense pain and the next I'm sprawled on the ground in a puddle of my own blood. Darkness envelopes my vision and my suffering is no more. Remorse brimmed my heart the moment my finger left the trigger. Standing over my motionless body, tears stream from my eyes. What have I done? In a moment of weakness, I tossed my life away. My family and Joshua...this is going to destroy them.
My brother Samuel is the one who finds me. Dread and disbelief overtake him and he shakes my motionless body screaming my name. Cradling my limp form in his arms, he screams for my parents to call nine-one-one and get upstairs. Not far behind them, is Joshua. Their faces turn away in horror at sight of my unresponsive form. They rush to me at once hollering and sobbing. I'm already gone, there is nothing they can do.
An ambulance arrives and upon finding no pulse and seeing the blood lost, they pronounce me dead at the scene. Zipping me into a body bag, they hoist my remains onto a gurney. There is an officer and a paramedic consoling my mother as she falls apart with grief. A volunteer EMT loads me into the back of a coroner's van. The door shuts behind me and the last thing my family sees is the first responders driving away with my deceased body.
Chapter 4
My final attempt to be rid of my heartache has gone so horribly wrong.
Thought my decision to take my life would put an end to all this pain.
Instead, I have only passed it along.
Figured no one would miss me once I was gone.
My mistake, turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong.
Left my loved ones asking questions.
My family wondering why and how they'd never seen the signs.
If I could go back just one day, I'd find the strength to change my mind.~~
God, look at them. My awful and unforgivable decision has absolutely devastated them. How could I have imagined ending my existence a viable solution to my troubles? If only I could go back one day. I'd have done things differently. Had I only gathered the courage to speak up. Why couldn't more of an effort been made to reach out and seek help? Bitter droplets pour from my eyes as I tremble and whisper desperately how sorry I am. Unfortunately, my repentance is too late and falls on deaf ears as none of my loved ones can hear my pleas. ...
(Presently Josephine's pov)
" Jo? ...Joey...Josephine, wake up and snap out of it, will you?", I hear my brother Samuel call in an apprehensive manner. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by the sight of him and Joshua not far behind. Am I dreaming right now? How is it conceivable that he can recognize me? I...I took my life last night. Not knowing just what is going on, I allow myself a minute to examine my surroundings. Unconvinced this is real or not, I throw my arms around my brother regardless.
" Samuel, I don't understand how are you here? It doesn't matter, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, will you both?", I beg grasping onto Samuel for dear life. At this point, I don't give a crap if I'm hallucinating. The concept of never seeing my loved ones again is enough to tear me apart. Ending it all was the worst choice of my life. If God is somehow allowing me to say goodbye, I'll not take this gift for granted. How will these two or any of my loved ones forgive me? Clinging to my older siblings' memory, I breakdown in his embrace. Shaken with mournful sobs, I bury my face into his shoulder.
" Jo...Josephine? Will you please calm down? What are talking about? Why are you emotional? It's almost ten-thirty in the morning. You slept through your alarm and Joshua came by concerned when you hadn't answered his calls. What is the matter?", consoles Samuel holding me now at arms length. My eyes fall on his and I'm struck in bafflement. A stroke of my jawline reveals no entry wound to my dismay. Placing my palm over my heart, I can feel it's steady beating. I'm alive? How is this possible? A quick glance around the room tells me that my note is still on my dresser, the firearms' in it's case beneath my bed and the box of ammunition is in my desk unopened. Does that mean this is real? Samuel and Joshua are truly with me and not figments of my own innovation? Words aren't able to justify my gratification and joy.
" I've only overslept? That means that I'm...oh, thank heaven!", I exclaim in relief while refusing to let go of Samuel's arm. By now he is observing me with a stare of bewilderment. Not certain what I would have done, were I to never see either of them again. By some miracle, I'm still among the living and could not be more relieved. What would Samuel, let alone Joshua, think had they known my dreadful intentions? Last night, I'd more than considered suicide a choice. Now, I realize what a mistake taking that path would have been!
Seating himself on the edge of my bed, Joshua wipes a hand against my tearstained cheek," Joey, relax. You're alright, please don't shed another tear. ...Hey, what's this Jo? It's an envelope addressed to your family and myself."
Recognizing the letter I'd left for my family to find in his hands, I panic and do my best to wrestle Joshua down and snatch the note back," Wait, no. Joshua, Samuel...please don't open that. I'm begging you, don't read it."
" I'm sorry, please forgive me...", reads Samuel over Joshua's shoulder as he skims the contents of my Suicide letter. Pausing after the first few words, his focus turns to me," Josephine Lynn March, care to tell me what the hell is going on here?", demands my brother while folding his arms across his chest. Taking a few moments, the two of them silently read my final message in it's entirety. Unable to bear either of their reactions, I hide my face in Joshua's shoulder as I tremble and quiver with sobs. Before long, my best friend begins consoling me while rubbing my back and whispering," It's alright, Jo, I'm here.", repeatedly in my ear, and my kissing my forehead and chin in a caring way.
" Please stop, don't read anymore of that Sammy. Throw the horrid letter away, I'm begging you.", I declare in despair while attempting in vain to take the piece of paper from Joshua's grasp. Folding the note back up, he places it down on my nightstand. Taking hold of my hand in his, Joshua rocks me in his arms. God, I can't bear to meet either of their gazes. I'm so ashamed of myself, had I not fallen asleep waiting for Sammy to call it a night...I would have gone through with things. The shotgun was already loaded with a single bullet for christ sake! They're going to expect an explanation and I'm not sure what to tell them.
" Jo...is this a goodbye letter? Why would you write this? I don't understand. Were you going to kill yourself last night? Why? Why would you want to do such an atrocious thing?", contemplates Joshua with an index finger under my chin as his eyes meet mine. How am I supposed to respond? What do I even say? Yes, last night I had resolved to take my own life. The only reason that I hadn't? I'd fallen asleep determined to wait until Sammy had gone to bed. Exhaustion was my only saving grace. How could I have nearly committed such an abominable act? If my brother, or worse my parents, had discovered my deceased corspe... . The mere thought springs forth a new round of tears.
" Jesus...Joey, is that a shotgun case under your bed?! How could you even consider ending it all? Don't you know that would have destroyed mom and dad?", bursts Sammy after removing the rifle from it's hiding spot. Another quick search brings forth a box of casings. Upon further inspection, Samuel realizes only one shell was missing. Lowering my head in shame, I comfort myself by holding onto Joshua all the more tighter. His strong embrace is the only reason I'm not crumbling to pieces. If only he knew how in love I am with him. I've only been wanting to speak up and cascade my heart out the last few years. Maybe this is my opportunity. Could a second chance at life be possible?
Swiping away the last of my grief, I snatch the note from Joshua carefully and rip it to shreds," Guess it's a good thing you took forever going to bed last night, Sammy. I'd been waiting until you had when I dozed off myself. Clearly, I didn't follow through with my arrangements. The both of you can stop worrying, I'm fine, honest.
Not willing to let me off that easily, Joshua rests his hand over mine," No offense, Josephine...but I think concern is necessary. Had Samuel gone to sleep, you wouldn't be here. I'm not going to drop this and I doubt your brother will either. Might as well spill, Jo."
Chapter 5
If you're hurting, lonely, angry, or confused know you're not the only one.
Speak up.
Reach out.
Ask for help!
Yes, it's hard but what have you got to lose?
Spending the next hour or so opening up to my brother and Joshua, I don't dare hold back. Burying my issues is no longer an option. For the longest time I had been suffering in silence. At the time, I didn't think reaching out, let alone speaking up, would've made a difference. What reason did I have to believe that it could? In the past, whenever I'd venture to broach the subject with anyone their responses forced me to reconsider.
They were always the same. " Why can't you just smile and be happy?", my mother would ask," Are you sure that you're not having a bad day? It'll get better tomorrow.", my father would chime in," I love you, Jo, but don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?", my brother would ponder, or my favorite and most comforting at least," I'll always be here if you need me to make you smile, Josephine.", are the words Joshua would use to make me feel better.
They sit quietly listening as I describe every single unfortunate event that lead to my determination. Killing myself was not my first option. The notion to do so began as a passing thought. The minute it entered my mind, I cast the horrid idea aside. Gradually, the worse my depression became, the more it turned into a viable option. While the mere concept struck me as abominable, the inclination took on an appeal of it's own the deeper I fell into that black hole of despair.
The more time went by, what once sounded cruel and ridiculous had blossomed into more than a passing contemplation. There were times I had caught myself making plans. I'd often thought about how I would go through with taking my own life. Jesus, I can recall practicing writing my final note more times than I can remember. All of this, I carefully explain in detail to my brother and Joshua. Hearing me go on about all the anguish, misery and heartache I've suffered with in silence is proving too much for them.
By the time that I'm finished spilling my heart out, Joshua has me wrapped tightly in his strong embrace. It feels great to be held by him. I've only imagined myself like this almost every night since I was thirteen. Might have neglected confessing to this last part. What was I supposed say? Nothing. How do I stand here and tell Joshua that I have been in love with him since the three of us were kids? The desire to profess my love for my best friend was dampened with the knowledge he could never return my affection.
What would be the point of putting my heart on the line? Allowing myself to open up about all that's been going on was impossible enough. If and when I tell Joshua, it will not be tonight. Why? So then he could bestow pity upon me? Rather not. Samuel and Joshua seem to conclude the best option for me is to seek help. While I told them this wasn't necessary, they brought my parents into the mix. After my father got over the shock and my mother's tears finally ceased, the four of them came to a unanimous conclusion.
My fate for the next 72 hours has been sealed. They're sending me a mental health hospital to be monitored and evaluated. Joshua assures me this is for my own safety. Not much use of me arguing with him or my family. They are right, it's best for me to seek the help I'll need to get better. Their fear is, if I don't receive treatment, I could be successful in my endeavors next time around. No amount of promising that I'm not going to go through with another plot to end my life seems to make a difference. My family and Joshua have all verbalized their consideration for my well-being.
I'm not to be sent to the facility they've chosen until tomorrow evening. Much as they tried, that's the earliest I'm able to be checked in. In the mean time, my parent's set up an appointment with a mental health therapist. They're insisting that I go speak with this counselor today and tomorrow afternoon. How am I expected to open up with a stranger? What would I discuss with them? Am I expected to somehow pinpoint the moment I'd decided life had become too much a burden?
Whatever my family and Joshua deem essential is what I'll be doing. Now that my thoughts aren't so cluttered? I'm realizing what a mistake killing myself would have been. What would such a tragic conclusion have solved? Nothing. Sure, suicide would have brought an end to my anguish. ...But for my friends and family...theirs would have begun the second they discovered my motionless body. The nightmare I had...felt too realistic.
Observing the trepidation and desperation in my brother's voice when he'd found me was enough to destroy my heart. Samuel appeared so vulnerable and grief-stricken. I know now that my solution was a loud cry for help and am grateful it's finally going to be answered. Between my family and Joshua, they've all promised I'm not alone in my struggles anymore. They will never know the comfort their reassurances have brought me.
Recognizing that I'm not in this by myself has provided me the will to live and desire to reach out. These next few weeks are going to be difficult, but I have no doubt I'll get through them. I'm making it my aspiration to make a full recovery. They say everything happens for a reason. It is my genuine belief this is true. Perhaps falling asleep last night was God's way of showing me what a miscalculation I'd been about to make.
Chapter 6
Decided to end my life today; that is 'til I remembered there has got to be a better way.
Epilogue; A word from the Author:
Whew! Writing is the cause of my current insomnia. Inspiration doesn't give a damn about sleep. That said, no this is not a cry for help it's merely my way of dealing with loss. Losing anyone to suicide is the worst heartache imaginable...it's something one never truly gets over though eventually learns to live with. This is me, learning to live with my heartbreak. ~~
This story has been a true labor of love. While the piece itself is a work of fiction, my decision to write this began as a way to work through my own grief. March 14th, 2015 is the morning I lost a piece of my heart. I remember the phone call as though I'd received it yesterday. The words my aunt spoke over the line couldn't have been more traumatizing," Matt's dead. He killed himself." My world fell apart around me at her statement.
I'm not sure what the stages of grief are, but for a brief while...I'm ashamed to admit I held resentment towards my cousin Matthew. Try as I might have, I couldn't understand what could have lead him to such a horrendous conclusion. Gradually, I came to realize my cousin was not in his right state of mind. Had he been? There's not a doubt in my mind he would have thought twice. Unfortunately, the odds were stacked against Matthew from the start.
From the age of thirteen, he had suffered two traumatic head injuries in his life. One was due to a skateboarding accident, the other occurred a few short months before he had taken his life. A shelf had collapsed and fallen on his head. According to his parents, the psychologist my cousin had been seeing informed them that the likelihood of one taking their lives increases with a traumatic head injury. My cousin Matthew had sustained two in his lifetime.
It is impossible to know what brought him to the decision to end it all. For a long time, I blamed myself for my cousin's death. How could I not have known he was suffering? Why didn't I call him more and reach out to see how life had been treating him? Why did he not make an attempt to reach out and seek help? The night he took his life, I had intended to call my cousin Matthew. A few friends of mine and I were headed for a bonfire in the woods. Remembering the summer before when we'd tromped through those same woods, I reached for my phone to call him.
Be it fate or some other unknown circumstance, I couldn't locate his number in my mobile phone. Not giving a second thought, I resided to call his mother in the morning for his number. Regrettably, by then it had been far too late. Dealing with my cousin's death took it's toll on me. While there is no time limit on grief, I found myself unable to heal. Over time, my family had grown tired of hearing me talk about my cousin and I'd began covering up my heartache.
Not knowing who I could turn to, my slow downward spiral into depression had begun. When I state that I'd had no inclination I was depressed, please don't misinterpret my words. Throwing myself into work and doing my best to move forward, I began to play the role of a happy individual. Putting other's well-being before my own, I went out of my way to make them laugh and bring smiles to their faces. All the while, I had been ignoring the fact that I hadn't been myself in a long time.
After almost four years of living a false facade, my world finally came crumbling around me. While closing one night at work, my mind snapped. I don't remember much of what happened. What I am able to recall are the delusions my grievances brought forth. Turned out that I had suppressed the mourning of my cousin's death to the point it finally revealed itself in the form of a mental breakdown.
Every hallucination I had during my psychological episode was a different scenario of a friend or family member taking their own life. At one point, I remember sweeping the floors at work while laughing and talking to myself in a state of delirium. God, I can even recall sitting inside my truck and shifting through gears. To this day, I don't recall any of what occurred once the police and ambulance arrived.
Waking up the next evening in the hospital, I remember being scared and confused. My first thought was that I needed to act normal. Fear of being sent to a mental health facility had brought me to my senses. After spending thirty-six hours under surveillance, I was then released. Before leaving, I was given pamphlets for a few mental health treatment centers. Fear of another breakdown caused me to pursue the support I had needed.
Below, I am including a list of suicidal helpline numbers and websites anyone in need of help can use to reach out. Please, don't for a second consider suicide as a mean to end your problems or depression. Talk to a family member, friend, a doctor, perhaps someone whose gone through it themselves or a counselor. I'm hear to tell you first hand, receiving the help I needed has changed my life for the better. Asking for help allowed me to finally deal with my unresolved grief.
Now, I can truly attest that I am better. For the first time in close to six years, I am in good spirits. I'm learning to open up more, a task that has never come easy to me. If I find myself unable to vocalize what's weighing on my heart, I have taught myself to write it out. While I'll never fully understand why my cousin Matthew ended his life, I've recognized that perhaps I'm not meant to. My heart will never fully heal from losing him, but I will always treasure the memories we had together and keep them close to my heart.
Suicide Helplines:
Suicide prevention Lifeline
800-273-8255
Crisis text Line:
741741 - you can text BRAVE to this number and someone will assist you. I tested this to be sure it would work.
Veterans crisis Line: Suicide Prevention holiness and chat-
800-273-8255 (same as above)
National Mental Health Emergency Hotline:
988 (this will replace the suicide prevention lifeline in 2022 and will be like 911 for mental health)
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (ESP) can be reached at 1-888-628-9454
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (Deaf & Hard of Hearing Options) can be reached at 1-800-799-4889
TrevorChat can be found at www. /get-help-now/ (available 7 days a week from 3PM to 10PM ET).
TrevorText can be reached by texting TREVOR to 1-202-304-1200 (available M-F from 3PM to 10PM ET).
The Trans Lifeline ( www. /) is a nonprofit organization that is created by and for the transgender community, providing crisis intervention hotlines, staffed by transgender individuals, available in the United States and Canada.
The Trans Lifeline can be reached at 1-877-565-8860
The End.