Choosing Life

Chapter 4

Life got worse again. Once again I was feeling so depressed, and in every situation I would think about ways that I could kill myself to make me feel better. Knife in the kitchen drawer to stab myself. Robe tied around me neck to hang. Jumping off the balcony. And I would do all this whilst holding conversation with someone.

But then, I was told that we could have the one thing that I had been begging for since I was in Year 3. A dog! After all of the debates, the presentation, the arguments, etc, I was finally getting a dog! We picked him up, a small tri-colour pup, and my life changed forever. I felt like I had a new reason to live, a little precious bundle to protect and love and care for forever. We named him Hope, because that was what he was to us. And people told us that it was a girl name, but it didn't matter.

Since then, Hope had saved me on numerous occasions. Every time I would try to take my life, Hope would come and look at me with those beautiful, intelligent eyes. He always knew, and he always cared. And he became like my PAT dog (my Pets As Therapy dog) and I obsessed about him to all of my friends. People didn't understand why I talked about him so much, why I felt horrible when I wasn't with him (separation anxiety). But if they knew what he did for me then they would understand. He was my hope, my reason.

Whenever anyone would have an argument and shout, Hope would come rushing to stop them, barking and growling at any physical violence. He would watch us, and once we stopped, would jump back onto the sofa to sleep with us. He loved and protected us.

A few times, if someone came onto our front lawn at night, Hope would wake up running to the door and barking this weird, deep, bark, that sounded like it belonged to a scary, large dog, rather than this little adorable puppy. Anyone who was there would be scared off, and once he was sure they were gone, he would stop barking. And so Hope grew on us, and became a part of our family.

Hope would then become the person (or dog) that I told everything to. When nobody else would listen, or was too busy, I would tell him about my day, my problems, my fears, hopes and dreams. Hope knew more about me then anyone else did. And I felt like I understood myself more. Sometimes we'd run around, sprinting until we were panting, or sometimes he would sit in my lap on the swing, as I talked to him and patted him slowly. I felt like maybe someone understood, and someone cared for me, they didn't ever judge me.

Then one day, Hope passed away. He had gotten cancer and died. I couldn't think for days, I stayed in bed and I cried, missing him, his warmth, his tongue licking me, his tail wagging everywhere. I missed being able to sleep with him curled up, being able to talk to him about everything. I wouldn't speak to anyone, couldn't eat. I felt so sick and sad and, for the first time in a long while, I felt so lost.

People didn't understand how much this hurt me. They thought that it was just the death of a pet, an animal, and they didn't understand why I was so caught up on it. But then again they never understood his importance to me. They never understood why he mattered to me so much, and what he did for me. They didn't get that Hope knew me more than they did, that Hope loved me more than anyone else.

I found it hard to continue living. I couldn't find a reason that outweighed the negatives of life. I made a list of why I should live, and why I should die. I would miss my family, but I couldn't deal with all of the suffering that was a part of life. I loved nature, but I didn't feel like it would ever outweigh the pain and death that was part of life too.

My days grew darker, my resolve weaker. I didn't care if my friends noticed anymore, I would just tell them that I had insomnia and wasn't sleeping well. I started to cut, and when I got caught with the lines on my wrists, I said I cut myself climbing my tree. I started cutting my thighs afterwards, they never check those.

Finally I didn't believe that I could live anymore. I had no will to keep going. I just couldn't bring myself to care.