I was happy before. I was a peppy cheerleader with friends. Straight A’s and a life that seemed too good to be true, I’d only been half-way through my freshman year in high school.
I’d go to school happy. one day after the next day, then the next day and the next day...always with a and a smile. I was someone who could cheer up your bad day in a heartbeat. My optimistic personality and hyperactive imagination were my best qualities. It seemed one day after another I was as radiant as the sun. Slowly a faint cloud of depression wrapped me up. It wasn’t noticeable for a while, because “maybe it’s just a bad day.” or “It will be better tomorrow”. Then darker and darker this cloud of sad grew.
My friends one-by-one dwindled, cheerleading became dull and repetitive, and at home I couldn’t do anything without being scolded. Usually within books, I found refuge from the outside world. I’d just pick up a novel and away I’d be, in the fantasy land. Slowly reading didn’t help anymore.
As this cloud grew, I was mocked for being peppy and cheerful at cheerleading. After every basketball game I cried myself to sleep, it became so unbearable. My friends began to fade into other social groups that I wasn’t even remotely close to. They left me behind, and I’d sit alone at lunch every day. What friends I did have, didn’t understand me. All they talked about was boyfriends and makeup, I had neither of them. At home I’d get scolded all the time. Even when I didn’t do anything wrong. My parents being divorced for some time didn’t help. I continued to sacrifice my social life and visit my dad on the weekends. Even so far away from everything with my dad, I still felt a burden cloaking me in the sadness.
I just couldn’t bring myself to get help either. Talking to someone was my biggest fear. I lost myself, who I was. In the moment all I could think about was then and there, not the future, not the past. I was stuck in the present and I couldn’t do anything to save myself.
I contemplated suicide and suicide techniques. I thought about hanging myself, but the thought of someone finding my limp and lifeless body hanging there was pretty frightening. I thought about using a gun, but someone would hear the shot. Pills, the only thing I could do to die without the lifeless hanging there and the loud bang. After holding a handful of pills for what seemed like hours, I set them down. My hand froze; I couldn’t bring them to my lips.
Carefully over the next few days, I faintly hinted on the fact that “life isn’t worth living,” “I wonder what people would do if I died.” Soon, someone told Mrs. Johns, the guidance counselor at our school. Obviously they told anonymously about my yearning to die and sadistic thoughts. Only after breathing out my long held breath did I realize how much I really didn’t want to die. I realized how that one person, whoever it may be, will always be there for me. Even though they remain anonymous, they will always be there for me.
The sadness that choked me then, resides in us all. It is like an overcast day, clouded and dark. The clouds come and stay for a while. It’s hard for us to talk about out stories. Like a cloudy day, dark and dreary and rainy, you want to stay inside. But you can’t, you have to come out and pray and hope and plead for that sunshine. You have to let yourself become free again.