It took 18 years to remember
You want five to forget
Forget about it.
I never thought I could survive to college. I never saw myself in a dorm. I never saw friends.
But I did. I didn’t live in a dorm. I rented a two-bedroom house with a fenced yard for my two adopted dogs. I went to class. It’s my fifth year in school, and yeah my past caught up to me, and yeah I had a few slip-ups, but I am going to graduate in May with honors- a GPA above 3.0.
So why?
Why do I want to die now?
Of all times, places, people, memories, why now?
I don’t know. I just feel so angry. Like nothing I do will ever surpass my past. Like everything I do is overcoming some terrible struggle that was a futile battle to begin with.
Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be here for long. Maybe I am here to teach everyone a lesson, I think I did, outing my grandfather like that, but I am not here to see the change. Maybe my last act will finally be enough to make them understand- make them want to change- make them believe me.
So if I kill myself, they will finally believe me.
I mean, people do believe me, at least some people agree with me, my grandpa is a pervert bastard. But it is hardly a reason to find vindication in suicide.
So is my behavior attention seeking?
Maybe.
Do I want other to feel the pain that I cannot go a day without?
No.
But I want them to understand.
I am trying to find a way to do that.
Right now hanging myself with a belt in my closet is all I’ve got. And this note.
I have this note. So, there’s that.
5 comments
What are you studying? You made it this far. Forget your grandpa, you survived his lecherous ass. And most likely surpassed anything he accomplished. And there is one thing you’ll never inflict on someone else.
Forget him. You won.
I think it’s hard for a lot of people to understand or accept the pain that others experience. I don’t think killing yourself is really going to change that. They may accept that you were in a lot of pain, or that something terrible happened to you. But they won’t really engage with it. They’ll write it off, draw a line under it, and carry on. It won’t change how they see others who suffer. The world will not be improved by you no longer being in it.
I think what you need is to focus on those who are capable of understanding, even a little bit, and engaging with what you are going through. Maybe that’s some form of therapy, or a survivor’s group, but I believe there are people out there who can really appreciate what you experience without just dismissing it. Perhaps if you can feel that someone else understands and accepts the anger and despair you feel, and why, while still believing that you are a valuable and worthwhile person, then you might start to feel more in sync with the life you’ve built for yourself, rather than being defined by what was done to you.
“It took 18 years to remember”
This memory emerged at some point long after the events took place?
Was there some catalyst for this?
Perhaps you didn’t fully come to terms with what had happened and it was always there only to resurface now. Some people find seeing counsellors helpful but I suspect you’re an independent person, in which case why does it matter what people think. Most of the people who post on here wouldn’t be able to share what they write with the outside world and by doing so, they feel less burdened.
Hb I hope you’re still with us. If it’s any consolation, google Woody Allen incest. In 1992 his (adopted) daughter Dylan said he molested her at age 7, and her sisters seemed to back up the claim. 20 years later no prosecution and everyone in Hollywood still loves Woody Allen. But his daughter is still fighting, and slowly people are starting to listen. At the very least, there might be an investigation. The point is, others out there have been through a similar ordeal and they’re fighting it. I know it may not be worth the trouble, but hell, you’ve come this far.