It’s a rainy day in May, you and your mother’s favorite kind of weather. Your alarm goes off and you slowly rise out of bed, you feel exhausted and the day hasn’t even began yet. You can already smell the bacon mom cooks every morning for breakfast. You start to get ready for school, you immediately pick something comfy up from the floor, because you don’t have the energy to wear anything other than sweats and a hoodie. You head for your door and peel off the yellow sticky note that reads “ have a good day sissy..Dont get sad. Love, little brother”. He always leaves those, well ever since he found out you take “happy pills” twice a day just to be able to function.
Before you head out of your bedroom door, you turn to the mirror and start to count every imperfection. “1,2,3” you mummer, you feel as if the list could go on forever. “Breakfast is ready!” yells mom. So you quickly get your glass of water and take your “happy pill”. Breakfast doesn’t consist of much, just your little brother talking about what he is doing that day in school and you refusing to eat. It’s become a habit, you not eating. Your parents are worried but they aren’t sure of the words to say. They are just scared of saying the wrong thing but you take it as if they stopped caring.
Your dad grabs his keys and says it is time to go. Dad always takes you to school. The car rides are dreaded for the both of you, he never knows how to approach you anymore, ever since you were diagnosed with severe depression. He acts as if it’s some kind of contagious disease, at least that's how you take it. It’s 8am the bell has just rung, you accidentally went to the wrong class “Can anything ever go right?” you say to yourself. Once you arrive to class your english teacher begins to tell you that you have detention for being tardy, even though you tried explaining your mistake of going to the wrong place. She doesn’t care, nobody does.
The day drags on and on as usual, finally you’re at lunch. You lap around the lunch tables about 3 times until you finally decided where to sit, you plop down and begin to open your milk and take out your 2nd pill for the day. The girls sitting by you start to stare, “ what is she a druggie?” says the pretty blonde with the perfect outfit , “ I don’t know but do you see the way she is dressed?” laughs the other perfect best friend. You begin to turn red, by that time the whole lunch table is laughing at you.
You rush to the bathroom and start to beg yourself not to panic, you start crying. “What did I ever do to deserve this?” you say. You start to get the urge to self harm, but you’re at school and know there is no possible way of being able to do it. The panic attack is starting you can feel it, you roll up your sleeves and try and cool down. You keep telling yourself it’s going to be okay, even though you aren’t fooling anyone.
Finally you hear the lunch bell ring, you rush out of the bathroom with your head down and you accidently run into that same perfect blonde “ Watch where you’re going freak”. You start to apologize then she interrupts, “Why don’t you do us all a favor and cut deeper next time” she says referring to your scabby scars. You rush out of the building and start to run home.
Those comments usually don’t phase you, but something about today really put you over the edge. You knew exactly what you wanted to do, and you didn’t want to even think twice about it. You bash through your front door and go straight to your room, you take the noose out of your closet and tie it to your fan. You feel a sense of guilt so you start to write small little notes for every single one of your family members “dear mom”, “dear dad”, “dear little brother”. You look at the clock and know you don’t have much time until mom comes home from work.
You take your cracked wooden chair your dad got you for your 5th birthday and start to stand on it, you place the rope around your neck and you can slowly start to feel yourself fade away, there is no coming back this time. It has been done. You actually did it. You’re gone.
It’s now 3pm your mother had ran to the market and bought you your favorite flowers, daisies. She headed to your room to lay them on your bed for a surprise. But when she opens the door, her whole body sinks into the floor. She tries to scream but nothing would come out. Her baby girl hanging there lifeless, finally after a couple minutes she gets some words out. “ HELP!” your dad comes running up, he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. He starts to shake horribly.
He calls 911, because your mother still cannot get any words out. Soon after the cops arrive, they make your father cut you down from the ceiling fan. He has to go up to that purple, cold, body of what he used to call his daughter and takes her down. Do you have any idea of what that must have felt like ?
Two months have passed, your family is barely getting by. They still can’t find the right words to say to your little brother. He still leaves notes on your door everyday, telling you he hopes you’re happy wherever you are and to come home soon. He’s still too young to know that you are never coming home. But your parents have to face the raw truth of that.
Your mother hasn’t been to work since it’s happened, she doesn’t even get out of bed. She just sits in the hallway right outside your door, she even sleeps there some nights. But your parents still can’t find the strength to open your door. They probably never will. Your father works all the time now, he hates coming home. And the time he does have off of work he just goes to the liquor store and drinks his hurt away, it never works though. He still sees your face everywhere he goes.
You know that blonde perfect girl? Yeah, she tried killing herself because she felt as if she didn’t deserve to live because she feels responsible for your death. And that teacher that was a little hard on you that day? She had to quit her job teaching because she couldn’t get through a class without fully falling apart because she believes if she would have just cut you some slack and tried understanding you that you would still be sitting in that front row seat today.
When suffering from depression you feel as if everyone would be better off without you, and that life would still go on. But what you don’t realize is that you are someone’s life, whether it’s your friends or family. You have made an impact on at least one person and someone cares enough about you that they would be affected by you not being here. And depression can blind you from those things and make you think things about life and yourself that are not true. Every single person is worth it, every single person deserves to live and be happy. Remember that someone always cares, and you not being here could render so many peoples lives, you deserve to be here.
