After I lost my friend, I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, I wound up joining the wrong crowd. I was always a little bit of a drinker, I mean I liked the taste. But I got a little too tipsy one night, and I wound up sleeping with this guy whose last name I still don’t even know. I wound up getting pregnant after that, but I tragically lost the baby before I could even tell anyone, including my family. I wound up spiraling down into depression and “cutting” and I was just in a funk. As soon as I started to try to help myself after multiple counselor a and therapists, I wound up getting raped. I thought they were going to kill me because I saw one guys face and could testify. They wound up leaving me somewhere to find my way home, I just remember lying in the street hoping that I could be dead. After that I decided there was no hope for me, I stopped going to church. I wound up cutting out society all together, I lost all my friends because I was afraid to go out, and I would never say what was going on. I wound up being so done when I was painting my nails one day, I just drank the bottle, it obviously did not kill me, I just became very sick for a while. I decided once I had gotten healthy again to try agin. I could ever let someone deal with finding my body, so I did weird and stupid stuff, I started pulling furniture on top of me. I tryed to smash my lungs with the heavy furniture. I wound up reaching a breaking point when I tied my bed to a rope, payed under it and dropped it. No damage. Still alive. So I tried to hang myself, possibly the worst option ever. But the stupidest thing ever saved my life. A text. From Facebook saying that the guy I had a crush on accepted my friend request. A friend request. He had no idea where I was or what I was doing, he just so happened to be the older brother to the friend of mine that hung himself and died. I know he blames himself for what happened to his brother, and I know because of it he got into drugs and alcohol and parties. I just wish sometimes that I could tell him that he saved my life, but I can not find the words. I have tried many times, but I do not want to ever
Most days just trying to get out of bed is impossible. I have learned over the years, and might I add, perfected, putting on a happy face for my family and “friends” but my whole life is an act, and if I have learned anything from drama class it is that I cannot act. So why do I try, when all I really want and need is a friend?
It all started when my friend since preschool committed suicide. We were not best friends or anything, but that was just him. He was a shy quiet kid, good family, church boy, track star, and a really good kid. I heard about it from my sister on the night he hung himself, and then as expected, from everyone at school the net day. Everyone was talking about it, saying they were best friends, writing the date on their backpacks or arms, and I sat there just getting angrier and angrier that he would leave me here. He left me all alone, and now I have to deal with these fake people at school, and worse the ones who came to the funeral. Everyone who claimed to be his “best friend” saw him for the first time in his casket. They all asked me why I was there? Why I sat in the front? Why I balled my eyes out? And the only thing I could say to one ballsy for who went up to me and his brother and said I had no right to be talking to his family, that they did not care what I had to say, that they did not know me was how can you sleep at night knowing what kind of person you are? The girl wound up watching his brother hug me and take me away before I lost it. She came up to me the next day in class and asked who the guy I was with was. And why he was so far beyond upset. I wanted to hit her so bad, I was just so angry. But I realized my anger was not just at her but at Preston, for leaving me behind. I have thought one too many times about joining him, but I can not do it to our mini family that we created over these past two years with his brother and my old best friends.