Well, darling, let me tell you a story,
A story all too true.
A daughter who became a wife, a wife who became a mother.
A mother of three girls...
One just above the age of a toddler,
One at the age of twelve,
And one entering the life of a married adult.
Now, the youngest girl was watching television,
And the oldest at the neighbor's home.
The twelve year old daughter sat at a computer with her closest friend,
When something terrifying happened.
Her mother was in the kitchen, coughing.
The daughter, although unable to see her mother, only could imagine the situation.
The mother walked calmly past the daughter with tears rushing down her face,
And up the stairs she went,
Into her bedroom...
Locking the door behind her.
The daughter, hearing the door lock, didn't bother to check on her mother.
She decided to expect and hope for the best.
Five, maybe ten minutes passed, the daughter still sitting at the computer,
When the mother stumbled down the stairs.
The daughter panicked, as any daughter would.
"Mom," she said. "Did you take pills?"
A few seconds passed before a response.
The daughter demanded her friend to dial 911,
And so the friend did, her hands shaking and struggling to press the numbers.
The daughter and the friend quickly explained the situation.
"The ambulance will be there soon."
The daughter rushed to her mother, who was now collapsed on the floor,
And tried to hold her up, tried to keep her awake.
Minutes passed before the ambulance had arrived.
By that time, the youngest daughter had walked into the kitchen,
Only to find her mother on the floor.
"What happened to mommy?" she cried.
The oldest daughter, seeing the lights of the ambulance, ran into the house.
"What happened?" She screamed, her voice shaking.
The paramedics opened the door, and immediately asked...
"What happened to your mother?"
The twelve year old daughter, the one who witnessed it all,
Spoke in a trembling voice,
Explaining the situation.
People began to ask the mother...
... "I didn't want to bother her anymore."
I'm not a mother yet I don't even know If I'll ever want to be a mother.
But the sad thing is, I feel like I could do the same thing as your mother did.
And I'm afraid.
Well, it's not that fucking simple. Yes, it messed me up pretty bad until I got serious help. Yes, it devastated my family. But suicide is not a simple thing. April was sixteen, clinically depressed, and three days before she took those pills her birth mother, who she had searched years for, told her to her face that she was a mistake. Her birth mother told her that she never wanted to see her again.
We didn't learn of this until much later, and had no idea how bad things had really gotten for April, mentally and emotionally.
What pisses me off is when someone is miserable, they have spent all their life unhappy, and they just want the pain to stop. No one they know understands, and in fact doesn't want to hear about it because its too depressing. Instead they just tell the person to be happy, like that will somehow make it better - yeah, try that with cancer some time "stop dying of cancer!" See how well it works.
In fact it makes it worse. Its that easy for you? You can just be happy because you want to be? They can't, and that makes the fact that they aren't happy even worse. There is something wrong, and there is nothing that can be done.
Pills! Take lots of pills! You'll be all better then! Yeah... that's the modern way. And maybe it helps. Maybe. But even if it does, it probably only makes things bearable, not good. And the depression, its not gone. Its always there, its always ready to come out, it just needs an excuse. And that's to say nothing of side effects, which can be buckets of fun in their own right.
No one wants to spend much time with the person because they aren't upbeat, dating is at best extremely difficult because the person isn't upbeat or exciting or whatever. So the person is unhappy, miserable, and very very alone.
But they keep living because its expected of them. Their family, what few friends they manage to have, the person keeps living just because others demand it. People tell them it would be selfish to commit suicide. Perhaps it would be. But how selfish is it to demand another person continue to suffer just so they don't have to deal with that person dying today?
Everybody dies. Eventually. You have to deal with it, eventually. You don't want to deal with the person being unhappy, you don't want to deal with the person dying (probably because you'd feel guilty that you never did much to help them when they were alive), no, you demand the unhappy person stay alive and turn it around to make it the other person's fault. They must continue to suffer simply so you can delay a brief period of grief.
And then you claim you'd swap lives with them? HA! That person has spent all their life dealing with it, they at least can. It sucks, but they can. You'd kill yourself inside a week if you had their life. You've spent much of your life happy, now imagine never being happy again, and ask yourself if that sounds like something you would trade your life for?
That is what pisses me off. Self righteous assholes that dismiss emotional problems as imaginary or whatever, simply because they don't have them. And then claim some moral superiority because they don't have a desire to end their lives because their lives don't SUCK.
And I believed them..
Now I know I don't have to.
I am glad to know that your mother lived.
You are truly strong for sharing this.
a boy in my class said that once. if it hadn't been for the ten meters that separated us, I would have slapped him, hard. if he ever dares saying such a thing again, I don't care how many yards he's away, I'm going to kick his ass
But for more important matters: I love you artwork. And I'm really sorry you, your mother and the rest of your family had to go through this.