Everyday. It is the same monotonous cycle. Over and over again; a repetitive pounding like a drum beating holes into an already bruised mind. I’ve been working on it. For weeks now, I have been writing and re-writing a suicide note in my head. So far I only have seven lines. Seven lines of what is to be the end of my life. I suppose the only reason I have taken the time to post this, is for purely selfish reasons, I am sure. But I would just like to be able to imagine that there ARE intelligent people out in the world that will be able to read my story, and hear the words I speak.
So, to the person that has been so kind as to take time away from your life to read my reasons: Hear my words, feel my pain. Because I want nothing more than for you to LEARN from my mistakes.
It all started my senior year of high-school. I was cramming to complete two credits worth of material (because I have always been in poor health, most of my life, and had missed a lot of school.) One day, late february, I had stayed late at school, to finish up a packet. I began to nod off, and — not wanting to fall asleep in the school library — I decided to go on a walk around the school.
My walk was shortened by a familiar face. It was Chris, *name changed* captain of our practically undefeated football team. I hated Chris. I always had. However, I tolerated him. I put up with his incessant constant blitherring of his latest accomplishments. So cliche. Well, I listened to him talk, and after ten minutes of chatter he convinced me to go on a walk with him around the underground track. I reluctantly agreed.
In short, my dear readers; I was raped. Raped and beaten. Dragged into a dark corner, and brutally, violently, mercilessly violated, over, and over again.
I passed out at some point, and when I came to, I was quite alone. Covered in bruises, and my own blood. Scratches along my thighs where he had forced them apart; and oh, how I ached. I had difficulty breathing, for I had a cracked rib. I lay there, alone, in the dark.
Finally, I got up, found all of my clothes, and limped home in the snow. It was around two in the morning by the time my head hit the pillow. But I did not sleep.
It was in those hours before dawn when in my brain began to fester an idea, that was like a cancer. So small, just a spark of recognition, of which overtime, would grow to envelop every crevice of my being.
I never told a soul. Not a word. And I tried — god knows I tried — to return to my schooling, to return to the classes. But the day I returned (after having been mysteriously ill for the past two weeks) I saw HIM. He ran up to me and hugged me, just as he always had. Like it had never happened. It was for show. Because as he pulled me close, he laughed. A cruel, heartless, unfeeling chuckle.
I ran. I ran and ran and ran and when I couldn’t run another step, I vomited all over my shoes.
I discovered only a little while after that incident that I was carrying his child. Empty inside, I decided to quit school. I couldn’t possibly go back. His face on every other poster, his name on every girl’s lips… He was in two of my classes, and I just couldn’t do it.
Twelve years of my life thrown away.
Mid march I miscarried.
In all of this time, my parents had been oblivious. And I — so angry at them for not noticing the bruises, not noticing my lack of school, not realizing that their daughter was troubled (to say the least)– would not tell them. They did not deserve to know.
I developed an eating disorder. I just… Stopped eating. I didn’t feel as if I deserved to eat food. I didn’t deserve anything to make me happy.
So I gave up. On me. On happiness. On life. Oh yes, there were many more things that transpired to have brought me to the point where I wish to take my own life. All which seem too menial to mention here.
I will be gone soon. Drowned. Knifes are too messy. Guns have always terrified me. Hanging is too cliche. But drowning on the other hand; drowning is romantic. Like Ophelia.
I will die. 18 seems so young to die, but I feel so old.
I am nearly finished with my suicide note, but when I am, all of this will be quite insignificant. Here is what I have:
Once upon a time, there was a wonderful girl,
Whose beauty and love lit up the whole world.
But behind her soft eyes, was a secret within,
And a heart too exhausted from keeping it in.
No one saw her hurting, ’cause she hid it far too well,
And no one notice that for her, everyday was hell.
‘Neath long sleeves of cotton, she his her blue skin,
That’d been stained with a fist of her own dirty sin.
With flashes in her memory, every single night,
Branded into mind and flesh, fills her soul with fright.
‘To whom it may concern’ was the letter never writ,
And with silent pleas unnoticed, with a broken heart she quit.
In the end she crumbled, and to the rest I cannot say.
Goodbye to all her kindness, as her pensive thoughts decay.
… This note will be my final piece. May God allow it to grow into the hearts of others, to live there.
My story is over. But yours is just beginning.
~Cate
16 comments
I’m sorry for what has happened to you, my most sincere thoughts go out to you
I don’t really know what to say
I hope your pain comes to an end
Drowning.
What happens to the human body after being submerged after a week? It is not a pretty sight: the skin becomes a dark shade of purple, the eyes and tongue bulge out of the sockets and mouth making a frog like appearance, the body becomes stiff and rigid, the person is completely unreconizable. Please consider this before you take the plunge.
Their are pictures of a drowned person on the internet, but I wont provide a link since it is quite graphic. If you must see what I describe, use Google.
I’m confused, What made you feel undeserving of happiness? Being raped? Was it because you felt weak, and unable to stop “Chris,” or because you miscarried? Or because you didn’t tell anyone what was happening?
As for your note, “Girl” Does not rhyme with “World.” It’s close, I guess, though. The rest seems fine.
Sorry, also, I think “notice” should be changed to “noticed”
I don’t understand “she his her blue skin”
I’ve written many such poems. I hate it when people write in free verse. It’s like they’re not even trying.
I think I might have an eating disorder as well. I’m about 5’9” and 110 pounds, how about you?
Dearest Cate,
I hope you are still there to read this. I just stumbled upon your post. PLEASE don’t end your life! Things CAN get better. Your life CAN be beautiful!
I know whereof I speak, because I too have lived through experiences similar to what you describe.
Please reach out to someone in your life and tell them what is going on for you. Please!
Dear girl-with-the-broken-soul,
PLEASE STOP!!! I would send you this note as a txt if I had your number. Where is the technology when I need it most?
At least wait for me, Ophelia. Hopefully you will stop for an instant to read this long message and re-evaluate your options: Life, You & Death.
First of all I can assure you that drowning is neither pleasant nor romantic.
Secondly, attempts at breaking your body will not be successful when carried out with a broken soul. If you want do a job right you have to put your heart & soul into it – for there in lies the ‘will’. You won’t be able to do that as both your heart & soul are currently broken. So I would suggest that you get them mended – truly. This takes time but you do notice the effects out of the blue one day! I would take time out – you can always die tomorrow & tomorrow is another day.
Thirdly, please take a moment to look around you, at all that you have loved in life – nature, material things, people & living. That is what you’d miss and will have to stop loving when you choose to stop living. Nobody knows what happens after we die – no one has been able to come back & tell us. What if it is worse than living-with-a-broken-soul? There has to be some benefit to the troubles that you are taking to finish this job. Going from the frying pan into the fire is not an improvement of status.
Now think of the choices that you have made till date. Which has been the most difficult & brave one till date? I bet this situation choosing between life & death!
If your answer is ‘choosing death’ then you will be wrong. Because suicide is the easy way out – some would even call it the coward’s cop out of a crap life. You ask how & why? You go and die, leaving your mess for the those left behind to clean up and pick up the pieces after you.
On the other hand – if you chose life – that is relatively more brave & difficult decision and to follow too from how you sound [based on your post].
You have a 3rd option: YOU. You as the person that you used to be, making that extra effort to be or even pretending to be alive in the true sense of the word, in spirit & body – that’d mean you take control of a life that is currently rudderless and direct it to showing the world what you are made of. That would mean making a number of changes to the way things are at present but change is good as long as you are alive to make more changes in a little while again!
I hope you read this now – that’d mean that you have chosen life. If you followed it up with changes then you are braver than me.
I am very sorry that you where attacked and raped. Rape itself is such a disgusting animalistic crime which is perpetrated by men who are so pathetic and helpless themselves that they seek a feeling of power by forcing sex on a woman. It makes me very angry to hear about your story. Hear about yet another happy, intelligent, and good young woman who has their life turned upside down because of some parasite. I lost a girl whom was closer to me than my sister to suicide because she was raped.
First and foremost I want to say that I do not in any way pretend to know or understand your feelings and pain. If there is one thing I hate its people on here pretending to know you and your feelings more than you do and then offer up advice and suggestions like they are scientific fact. This website is about support, the people here and being able to just post something anonymously and free of judgment feels good, and I just want to help be a part of that support for you.
Its great you came here and had the courage to reach out and speak up about your story. I can only imagine how difficult it is to think and write about your attack. Fortunately (from the standpoint of support not fortunately lots of women have been raped), there are SO many other women on here that have been through the same experience that you have. I think that you should go back through and read some older posts to find them and reach out to them. That way you can talk to someone who does completely understand how you feel about it and you guys can support each other.
You have to tell people about this dear. Its eating you up inside, its got you on a suicide support website posting your potential suicide note. Nobody in your life knows about this thing then they can’t help you with it and everyone needs to be helped, especially with huge life shaping events like rape. Think about the anger and resentment you hold towards your parents for not being there for you and overlooking your bruises? If they knew about this I’d hope that they would pile love and support on you and apologize for not being there for you. Most people, the people who matter and truly care about you, are going to see the pain you are in and they are going to HELP and SUPPORT you when you tell them about this. They are going to help you unload some of that burden.
I also think you need to confront the man who raped you. The fact that he ran up to you and hugged you makes me think that he either doesn’t think that he raped you, or he doesn’t understand how damaging that it would be. He needs to know that you became pregnant and miscarried. You should tell him that you aren’t scared anymore and that you are reaching out for help. You are telling your story and people are listing. You need to scream in his face that he is a pathetic animal who preys on helpless girls and that everyone in the world is going to know it too. He needs to be held accountable and be reminded of his actions because if you don’t do this he will do it to another girl, and another, and another, until someone stands up and stops him.
Again, I don’t pretend to know your pain and will never understand how you feel or where you’re coming from. I don’t know if you feel comfortable telling people in your life about the rape. I don’t know if its something that you want say, your entire high school, to know about. It just seems like you are keeping to much hurt and confusion in and that having only yourself to help and support you that you are ready to kill yourself. And I do know that you hate that bastard, loath him, that at this point it fills you with rage to think about him laughing and enjoying his life. Don’t you think that you deserve some god damned justice? Don’t you think that he should be held accountable and that other women should know what kind of animal he is so they can protect themselves?
The last thing I want to say comes from my personal experience with my friend who committed suicide after being raped and her struggle. I am not sure that any of this applies to you or that’s it at all relevant, but I am going to say it anyway. In your post you said that you were doing this because you wanted others to learn from your mistakes. YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG! You didn’t make a mistake and being raped is not at all your fault. You are no less of a person for it. Please do not judge yourself or value yourself based on the actions of some pathetic dip shit. You are still a valuable human being, you are still worth wile, men will still find you attractive, and nobody thinks or will ever think less of you because this thing happened. The only mistake I think you might make is killing yourself like my friend.
I hope that you find some strength and support here, reach out to other women who share your experience, reach out to others in your life, please do something about “Chris,†and take care of yourself. Good luck
Dear Cate
Reading your story brought tears to my eyes at my desk in my office. Please, please, please for the sake of God don’t do it. You definitely deserve a good life and it’s that fucking monster who caused all these troubles for you that doesnt deserve to live. There are many good people here and in this world who can help you get back to the life that you DESERVE. Please come here and write sth so we know you are still here with us. We need to see you here again, OK?
Dear Cate,
As others have stated, I am very sorry for the ordeal you have gone through, but even as bad as this experience, life will get better with time. Please don’t follow your suicidal thoughts but give life another chance. There will always be scum like chris in this world but we can’t let them run our lives or ruin them. You are too good a person to let that happen and the world needs more girls like you. Don’t give up we love and need you.
Dear Cate,
You titled your post “this silence is my enemy.” And I think you’re right. Feeling like you can’t tell anybody is the hardest thing of all. But you have. You’ve told us. And you can look at that as the end, or as the first step to recovery. Cate, I really, really hope you’re still with us. If you are, please email me. My email’s lostinthestars13@gmail.com. I’m not saying I’m a trained therapist or anything, and I can’t even begin to fathom what you’ve been through. But sometimes, having someone to talk to, someone to listen and to confide in can make all the difference in the world.
is it wrong that your suicide note, is written beautifully? Is it not porper for me to say that? I don’t think there is a protocall for this. Silence is just as horrifying as the occurance. I hope you canfind happiness in whatever you decide. Your bravest moment, was sharing this story, know that. Please message me if you need someone to talk to. My “story” was an untold one and I found comfort in the email of a stranger….We are here
Your story brought tears to my eyes and pain to my heart. You are so talented, well-spoken and I understand the struggle and feeling that you haven’t got the strength to keep fighting. I pray that you will, that you realize that you’re a beautiful soul that deserves to love herself again. I too am on that struggle…you’re in my thoughts. I wish you peace and healing.
Cate, I’m so sorry about what happened to you. There are a ton of people on this site that can listen to you, and talk to you about your pain. You seem to be a very brave young lady, and sharing your story with all of us must of been really hard for you to do. I really hope you are still with us and get on and read everything that the people above me have posted, we are all here if you need anyone to talk to.
I have come back to this post and to you because I just throw my hands up to a higher power and hope that you have not ended your life. It might not feel like it now that you can get thru this but you can. You can be a voice for all the girls who have dealt with these horrific acts – I will be up tossing and turning not knowing what is going on with you.
Dear Catey
Can you see how many people are caring about you? I hope you read all these comments before making any decision.
I too have found myself wondering…praying that you are still there. Realizing the impact that you’ve had on all of those that are coming across your story. Please…reach out, cry out…just let us know you’re still fighting…we care.