'Depression Is the Inability to Construct a Future' -Jim Rohn

Since, I can remember, I was always the class clown. I loved seeing the other kids laugh with me rather than at me. It gave me a sense of happiness—something I didn’t have. It all started when I was ten. Jess Shetivik was out for me. Everything I did annoyed her, so she ridiculed me for it. She would turn off the bathroom lights while I was on the toilet and make scary noises, she would spread rumours about me, and worst of all, she would make fun of me. Making fun of someone, pointing out their flaws and why no one likes them, does something to a child. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I finally decided to tell the only person I trusted; my older brother. As soon as my mom died, it was just my dad, my brother, and I. But things changed. I guess my dad couldn't take it, so it was just me and brother. He was all I had. When I told him about what was happening at school, he said something that I’ve held with me for the rest of my life: “You are the most loving and strongest person I know. Those kids are testing your patience. Don't cry, don't fight fire with fire, do what you do best. Show them what it means to be able to defend yourself without hurting the other person.” And that's exactly what I did. The next day at school when Jessie came over to give me my daily dose of criticism, I laughed with her and I could see the fury in her eyes. I destroyed her.

Ever since that day, I’ve gone through difficulties in my life with funny remarks and sarcasm. However, it does have its repercussions, like when no one is taking you seriously, when you want to tell people the dark thoughts you have late at night, when you have too much social anxiety to ask that worker at Forever 21 for a bigger size, or even when Pete in history class said you looked fat. Even though you called him a b*tch, you really did care. Those are the moments when I question if anyone really gives a f*ck if anyone would care if I just killed myself. But I didn't have to imagine it anymore because on December 27, 2017, I did. I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to live in a world where everyone treated me like a robot and where I’m forced to live like one. But something strange happened as soon as I killed myself. I was watching myself in the third person. I saw my brother coming to check up on me, crying and screaming like he hadn't before, and I saw the reactions of my friends when they found out; one of them was shaking so hard their legs could not support their weight. That’s when I realized I did matter. People did care about me. Even if they didn't show it, they did.

When I was at my funeral, I saw people I met ten years ago—people I didn't even remember meeting. Everyone who gave speeches said heartfelt things, and the only thing I wanted to do was hug all of them and tell them how much I appreciate them. But I couldn't. It was too late, I didn't realize the great people in my life until now. I hid behind closed doors so no one could hear my screams. If I had let people in, I would've gotten the help and support I needed.

Remember that you aren't alone. Even if you don't realize.

Get the help you need.

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255