One Person One Experience

One Person One Experience

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 9, 2015
"Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you. I feel scared and so afraid inside that I cannot breathe no more..." Samantha silently sang as she played a melancholic tune on her acoustic guitar. She was only sixteen years old when she finally realized what was happening to her, depression was eating her alive. A few years ago, her mum fell in love with a co-worker, he appeared like a good man, but as time passed Samantha knew something was strange in him. She never approved their relationship. She was taken as a slave in her own nuclear household, cleaned, cooked, raised her younger brothers Jacob and Isaac, and took care of her studies. She always hid her sadness under a bubbly smile, no one ever knew she was so broken inside. Samantha was raised by her maternal grandparents, Kimberly and John, who called her their little angel, even though her heart was filled with sadness and anger. She didn't have much friends, the reason behind it was her shyness, but ever since her depression started, she became asocial, closed up in her own little world, making it even harder for her to socialize with people; the little friends she made, she never put effort to maintain the friendship, so they always leave. Samantha Joan Bernard is a suicide attempt survivor. Not many people know about this, since she rarely talks, but to the little group of people she has told about, they were shocked. And so her story continues...
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-A Lie I decided to focus on family, choosing to believe-and have faith-that everything else would fall into place. I wasn't comfortable-or good-at lying to her. So, when Samantha surprised me one day by swallowing her pride and asking directly if anything had happened during our break, I hesitated. The silence, I believed, said it all. I was on the verge of confessing when she gave me an out: "If you tell me nothing happened, I'll believe you," she said. I should have told her the truth then-or resolved never to reveal it. But I didn't. Instead, it surfaced years later, during the final unraveling of our marriage, when I was leaving for good. I selfishly brought it up, hoping it would push her away. But in that earlier moment, I let her believe what she clearly wanted to hold on to-that I had been faithful. She knew Pippa, and probably sensed something had happened between us, but she let it go. And so did I. It was cowardice, I know. Still, I made up my mind to make our dream a reality. And for a while, it worked. We rebuilt, we dreamed again. Three more sons came into our lives, and with them, years of trying to hold it all together. But more than a dozen years later, the same problems that once threatened us had only deepened-and would soon spiral out of control.

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