Copy/Pasting something some of you might like to read.
- Locked due to inactivity on Jan 27, '17 3:54am
Thread Topic: Copy/Pasting something some of you might like to read.
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Two years ago today, I was released from the hospital after a week-long period of care after an attempt to kill myself. I didn't want to live in this world anymore. I was broken, exhausted, and extremely depressed. I'd realized that I could never live up to the expectations of my radically conservative parents, and that I would never be able to find full acceptance no matter where I went.
I was fourteen. I had a girlfriend for the first time, the same one I am finally letting myself truly be in love with now. I had friends who manipulated me, ones who I had to bribe to get them to spend time with me. The day I tried to kill myself was on the eve of my youngest sister's birthday, directly after the birthday party for one of my nieces. I had been surrounded by family the whole night and I was exhausted. I was so tired of lying. I had brought a date to the party, a boy, someone I could only ever be friends with. After a night full of people assuming he was my boyfriend and me internally screaming that I was GAY, I was done. I was supposed to spend the night at my sister's house, but I had her take me home. I remember watching leaves fall in the path of the headlights, thinking how pretty of a night it was.
I was wearing my niece's hoodie. It's blue. I still have it, I wear it every day.. It smelt like dogs that night. When I was in the hospital, the nurse drawing my blood couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at it. He was trying so hard to be polite and I found it funny that I smelled so bad. He was very sweet. (When I had been brought in, the lady at the receptionist desk sighed and said, "Another B.A." She seemed so exhausted. I was too.)
I saw the same nurse a month later when I was admitted for the same reason. I'll never forget how crushed he looked when he saw me- I knew that he remembered me, despite us exchanging less than ten words. I wondered how many times those nurses saw the same kids over and over again.
I met friends in the hospital. One of the nurses lectured us that we weren't there to make friends. But these two other girls and I exchanged contact information with crayons. (We weren't allowed to have pens or pencils.) We're still friends on Facebook and I've watched both of them do amazing things over the last two years. I think I'll message them after this post, because I'm sure they would belong in this group.
And just like they got better, I got better. I have a best friend now who very well may have strung the stars and the moon in the sky just so that night wasn't so lonely for me. A girlfriend who, by the way, is the one who prompted the response of the police during my first suicide attempt. I still feel weak sometimes. I get discouraged when I listen to my parents talk so cruelly about certain groups of people. Two years is SUCH a long time, and I've still got one and a half more before I can leave.
But this group? This group gives me SO MUCH hope. Seeing people of all ages and of all backgrounds come together to fight to fiercely? I may not have my own voice yet, but watching all of you protect my future so that I can have one makes me feel okay.
It does get better. ♡ -
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This was amazing.
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