Can I just delete myself from life?
This is the question I ask myself every day. When will it all end? Will there ever be an end? Or will I suffer forever until I die? This is my life as a high schooler. All the stress of trying to get good grades and be the 'best'. All the assignments and projects, as well as peer pressure and stuff that goes on at home. It's all one big depressing mess. No matter what smile you have on or the clothes you buy or people you hang out with. It all comes out eventually. We all just need to sit down and realize, that we're all just broken people who need help picking up our broken pieces. Nobody ever notices how broken someone is until they see their last full piece falls off and they don't even know who they are anymore. But that's how you become whole again. You start to pick up all your broken pieces and rebuild yourself. And through that, you can become stronger. But this is my story of hope. Let me explain how it all started.
It was a normal day, I woke up and wanted to go back to sleep, and never wake up again. I couldn't face school. Not after what happened. After all the rumors that are going around social media and in school. I can't face it today, or ever again. Everyone is going to make fun of me. I always wanted to be popular but not in a bad way. I wish I could go back to Friday. If I could, I never would've gone to that stupid party. I never would've drunk anything and I never would've smoked anything. I was so stupid. I never should've listened to that girl.
"Brendon! Time to wake up!" my mom yells from downstairs.
"Ok be down in a minute!" I yell back. I can't tell her what happened Friday. She didn't even know I went to that party. She can't know either. So my only choices would be skip school and get away from the embarrassment for another day or two, or go to school and have to face the mean comments, and the possibility of getting beat up.
I walked downstairs dressed with my bookbag. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a piece of toast off the table, grabbed my keys off the key holder, and walked to my car. I threw my bookbag into the back and started the car and drove off to school. But instead of going right, I went left. I drove further from the school and kept driving until I got to the parking lot of the local mall. It was still closed but would open in about an hour. I turned on the radio and turned the volume all the way up and put my seat all the way back and just cried. I couldn't let my mom see me like this. I had so much pain inside me I just needed a way to get rid of it all. But then I realized that in order to get rid of it I could just hurt myself. I grabbed my pocket knife out of my glove compartment and flicked the blade up. I looked at it for a good minute then I brought the sharp blade to my forearm and dragged it across the soft skin. Instantly blood bubbles up and the mental pain eases. Craving the release of my emotions I do it again and again. When I finally put the knife away I'm dizzy from blood loss, but feeling much better. I clean up the blood best I can and turn my car off. I get out and go to my trunk where I have an extra hoodie and put it on. I walk towards the doors of the mall and walk inside. I'm feeling so much better. After walking around the mall for the school day I walk back to my car and start the trip home. When I walk in the house I see my mom sitting on the couch asleep. I grab an extra blanket from the end of the couch and drape it over her. Then I notice trash strewn about the room. Mostly empty beer cans. The smell of cigarette smoke is overwhelming. I open a window and then walk upstairs to my room. The second I sit down in my bed the mental pain hits me. My arms hurt from the deep cuts on them and the scabs have been getting stuck to the fabric of my hoodie. Any movement rids the scabs off and the bleeding starts again. The pain I feel becomes too much, and I want to make a permanent way to end all of my pain. I run downstairs into my garage and grab the rope I had used for a project last year and run back up to my room. I close the door and start to tie the very complicated knot. I stand on my bed and start to tie the other end to my ceiling fan. I put the loop around my neck and slowly make my way to the end of my bed. Right as I'm about to step off my phone buzzes with a text. I look at it and see that it's from my friend. I open the text and read it. Hey, Brendon, I saw that you weren't in school today and wanted to check in with you and see how you're doing. I know what your going through is hard but I'm here for you if you want to talk about it. I read and reread the message. It was as if he knew what would happen. I sat down on my bed and cried. Someone cared about me. Right when I thought nobody would know how I was feeling. But someone was here for me, willing to help me. I called him and told him all that was happening.
"Hey, I'm here ok? I'm not going anywhere." Dylan told me over the phone.
"Thanks, man, and could we possibly keep this to ourselves?" I asked nervously.
"Yea no problem," he said.
"Well, I have to go," I said, "I'll see you in school tomorrow."
"Ok Bren, I'll see ya." He said and hung up. The only way I could get through this was to face what was going to come and handle it. That's how we get through all the stuff life throws at us. We can't just hide and hope it goes away. And tomorrow I was going to go to school and deal with what happened. Even though it would be embarrassing I needed to face it. If I hide myself people will start to talk and more rumors would spread. I can make it through it though. Dylan would help me through it. I had support, I just had to make the first steps to recovery. It was a good thing I was stopped before I could do any permanent damage. Now when I see the future, I see hope. We're all just broken pieces waiting to be put back together. To be made whole. If you give it time, the cracks would fade and you would look brand new. We can all be new. But our cracks and scars show that we fought through pain and heartbreak and made it out alive. Our scars are stories and strength in weakness. The reasons we are here are unknown, but we need to make the best of it.
