It seems like any time I use the phrase "it couldn't get any worse", life will always make things worse than you thought they could never get. That statement I would say accurately describes my freshman year at Alachua County High School.
To sum it up I entered freshman year feeling alone, sad, neglected, unwanted, and out of place. In the start of the year, everyone basically just ignored me, which although wasn't favorable, wasn't unbearable. Then, about nine weeks into the school year, the old bullies began to notice me again. How or why this happened, I am completely unaware.
At that point, my freshman year went from bearable to torturous. The kill yourself taunts, the cut yourself jokes, and the never-ending taunting, continued without faltering to the slightest twitch of guilt in one of the bullies. This progressed my once in a while cutting to an every night activity, and eventually I ran out of room on my left wrist, so I moved to my right. Of course my wonderful mother never realized, even though no matter how hot it was outside I would still wear long sleeved clothing to hide my own version of a sleeve on my wrists. Throughout my awful freshman year, the thought of leaving the world by my own will popped into my mind more frequently, but I still had not acted upon my thoughts yet.
At the start of the third quarter I had come to the conclusion that maybe it was time to actually address these thoughts. On the night of November 21st, I again entered the exact same bathroom where I had my first experience with cutting and yet again looked in the mirror. Disgusted with what I saw, a breaking, pitiful teenage girl with a conscience not strong enough to deter her determination to get the job done, I reached a weary hand towards the medicine cabinet.
Opening the cabinet door, I see an array off colorful pill bottles to take my pick from. I head straight for the three bottles containing the three most powerful kinds of pills I know of, and dumped out all the contents. There were about 18 pills total, and to make sure they had the most lethal effect I swallowed them all down with a glass of my Mom's tequila. If this doesn't work, I thought, what will? It's done. It'll all be over soon. But then I began to second guess myself. Was choosing to take the easy way out really the best way? Does this mean I'm a coward? Will I never go to heaven because of this one choice? Then I decided, it's too late, I already did it, so why die in panic? I made my way outside of my house, and went to spend my final minutes by the Oak tree in my front yard and sat by at, looking around trying to take in the beauty of the world around me, attempting to ignore the hideous things that led me to this point.
I looked at the formations the clouds were making, trying to determine what I thought the shape was, when a saw a light forming in the corner of my eye. The light grew bigger and more entrancing, now impossible to ignore. It was getting closer, and I have to say it was beautiful, causing a wave of tranquility to rush across my body. Soon the light was all I could see, overpowering my being, putting me in a trance. Before I knew it, I wanted nothing more than to go to this light, and now I felt as if the miraculous light was almost within arms reach, tempting me to go into it. Sudden;ly from somewhere deep inside me, I felt as if the light was for another time, like it wasn't my time. The beautiful light was fading away, and as disappointed as I was, for some reason I felt like that was right. The sky then went black.
The next time I regained consciousness, I was laying in a hospital bed, feeling exposed to the world in the sheer hospital gown. I sat up after opening my eyes, and turned to see a nurse standing near my bedside. After asking her what had happened and why I was here, she grabbed for my wrist, pulled it up so I could see it, then said I had taken an overdose of pills and had to have my stomach pumped in order for me to survive.
Apparently someone had discovered me unconscious next to my Oak tree and called 911, saving my life. In my eyes, I had won and lost. I had failed on the one thing I didn't think it was possible to fail on, but yet I had been granted the privilege to live another day. Eventually I was released from the hospital, just to be sent back to the dreaded school which led me to this very place. When I got back to school, it changed from me being told to kill myself, and things of that nature, to try again, and to "do better next time", and being called a suicidal freak.
To me, this hurt even worse than the previous torment. This was because the fact that people knew I wanted to end my life and leave the world enough, and had already attempted so they knew I was serious, yet they continued to torment me and make my life awful just deepened the offense I took from it. The rest of my freshman year stayed virtually the same as just described. That was when I decided I really needed a new start, where I wasn't known as a suicidal freak. Some where where maybe, just maybe, I could be happy for once.
And that is how I ended up here, the new girl starting off 10th grade, hoping no one is good at research, and that these kids aren't piranhas like the last. Praying that they will accept me maybe, because I surely can't take another year like freshman year.
