Change,

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance." ~Alan Watts

It's crazy to think how much a person can change in a period of time.  Whether it be from their hairstyles and clothing choices, to where the place their faith or their general attitude.  A few years ago, after my friend's suicide, my high school placed me under intensive therapy during hours because of me lashing out and becoming extremely depressed and anxious my senior year... along with telling my assistant principal that I was seeing my friend in the hallways covered in blood, but hey... that's not an issue, right?

I was originally going to write this post about a dream that I had and draw a nice picture of it on one of my drawing pads, but when cleaning out my closet, I found my old journal from said intensive therapy.  Flipping through it, I realized that though I was coming off as normal to my peers and teachers (well, for the most part), I was one messed up seventeen year old.  I'm going to put some excerpts below.  And I'm warning/reminding you:  this stuff was from two or more years ago.  I do not feel these intense feelings anymore.  Grant it, they do come back sometimes, but not in the way they did at this time.  And it's pretty sad that I was thinking/writing these things right before my 18th birthday.

The assignment I had from my therapist was to take a week and essentially write to my dead friend, Shane.  So during this week, that's all I did.  And these are the results.  Take a look.  I'll only provide with some of the journal entry, because it does get pretty explicit and vulgar with the language, but it's actually pretty interesting.

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April 18-19, 2011

Shane,

A few days ago, my therapist gave me this worksheet to do so I could "communicate" with you and express my feelings.  Like that's gonna f***ing work.  It's not like I'm gonna fill out some goddamn paper and *poof*, there you are to tell me everything's going to be okay.  Because it's not.  And it's never going to be.  But I'm still going to do this stupid paper, so that my therapist doesn't write me as "clinically insane" and I can possibly graduate a decent human being.

I remember one of the questions being about song lyrics that reminded me of you.  Well, that's a little hard because all you listened to was country, and you know I avoid that s**t like the black plague.  The only thing I could think of was that one song that kept playing on your slideshow.  It was some Sarah MacLaclan song, and the only reason why I remember was because it's always on those ridiculous ASPCA commercials you used to make fun of.  What irony.  You don't understand.  I looked right at your body that day right when that song came on.  I wanted to scream and tell you to get up... the joke was over and you could get up, but you never did.  I PLEADED WITH THE LORD IN MY HEAD FOR YOU TO COME BACK AND YOU NEVER DID.  I wanna see you, not hear some stupid, sappy f***ing songs that remind me of you or pictures or videos that remind me of you.  I don't want reminders.  I want you.  I wanna hear your voice, you laugh... I'm starting to forget what you sound like and it scares me to f***ing death how much I will remember of you in the next year.  You'll never understand what we have to go through.

You make me feel so guilty.  You being so selfish and taking your life has given me so much guilt.  Why did you send me that f***ing text?!  You never should've sent me that... maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty.  You should've just done it and not told anyone, especially me.  I probably would feel a little guilty because I never saw that side of you, but you gave me an opportunity at two in the goddamn morning to save you and I never took it.  I hate myself everyday.  I hate it when I wake up in the morning and you're not here for me to call or text or message on Facebook or see at church... hell, you're not available to do anything because you're f***ing dead!

Every day, I see you in the hallways.  Covered in blood.  Screaming.  Telling me it was my fault.  I wake up every day and want to end my life.  I can't take this anymore.  If I was brave enough, I would probably do the same thing you did.  But how wimpy am I to not do it, huh?  At least you don't have to experience everything afterwards.  

I got my acceptance letter for Edinboro on April Fool's Day, and to be honest, joke's on them because I don't even wanna go anymore.  I know you wanted to go there with me and now the thought sickens me.

Every morning is the same routine.  I wake up with a struggle, knowing you won't be there.  I put on your bracelets again, look at your name, and think, "Could I have saved you?  Could I have done something to save you so you'd still be here?  Could I have done anything?"  And the answer is always the same.  No.

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Less than two months after this entry, I did something my guidance counselor told me I'd never do because of my behavior:  I graduated in the top third of my graduating class, almost hitting the honor roll.  I didn't get to go to school, but I got my first job (ironically at the place he was working when he died) and have met the most wonderful and supportive people there.  I made new friends, something I thought I'd never do.  I've become an activist for suicide and depression awareness and support.  

I'm not one hundred percent happy or over Shane's suicide.  These things take time.  But I'm happier than I was.  And that's the most important thing.

If you're ever feeling the way I was in that journal entry, or have a friend/loved one feeling that way, here are some resources you can use to get better.  Don't be afraid to take the first step.  That's the most important one.

~Carly

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National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:  

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or 1-800-273-TALK

Hopeline:

http://hopeline.com/ or 1-800-442-HOPE

Other options:

• There should be a list of local suicide hotlines in your local telephone book.
• Dial 411 and ask for a local suicide hotline.
• Dial 0 and ask for a local suicide hotline.
• Call 911.  Tell them you are in suicidal danger.  They will help.

Don't be afraid to ask for help.