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Old 06-13-2008, 01:07 PM #1
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Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: with the Brady Bunch, honey bunch,and now the crazy bunch
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who moi who moi is offline
'Thanks' Button Team Community Member T.K.S.
who moi's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: with the Brady Bunch, honey bunch,and now the crazy bunch
Posts: 2,751
15 yr Member
Trig piercing of the heart...

"when that moment comes; when we hear that news; when we go dizzy and our ears ringing...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was about 7 years old when my teacher told us that one of our classmates had hung herself...

I felt my ears ringing and my head dizzy....

"huh??" Was all I could think of, not what happened, not how could it happened, but just "huh???????"

she wasn't very popular in our class, but she was very nice and sweet. She lived a rough life where her father died young and she had to go and help her mother run their small family business everyday after school. All of us have shopped there at one time or another to help support her family business.

I glanced around my classroom, many were already crying...I was just numb...

but the effect was the same, we were shocked...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What happens to us? Where do we fall? How do we handle it? Who do we FAULT?

I was numb for awhile, but I was really young; it didn't hit me til much later, but I can remember there were moments that I felt this emptiness and guilt.

I felt that I should've reached out to her somehow, I felt that I should've done a much better job being a friend (but I also lived at a time where boys were extremely shy and if one was even seen talking to a girl, he would've been severely teased).

The emptiness I couldn't described at the time cause I was so young, but now I know that I somehow realized that I would NEVER see HER again. This UNIQUE individual that had once occupied this earth, will be forever, NO MORE...

I remember my mom and teachers and other adults talking about it...they were saddened but blaming a lot of different people...speculating, wondering. After all, suicide, back then, many years ago, was tabooed even more than today...

the mentioning of the word, "sad" even was always rebutted with "get over it."

we weren't allowed to be sad, or depressed. Suiciders were "weak"

unless it is done in honor, like the samurais...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That piercing of the heart..."

at times, it felt like my heart was being pierced by knives, pins, or the sharpest objects one can ever imagined . But I was afraid to talk to anyone about the pain...I was embarassed by it...

years later...when I was in 10th grade. The very popular guy that sat in the same desk that I did a period infront of me, carved that he would kill himself that day. It gave his name, detailed time and how...

I was in the class period after him, I showed it to my best friend who sat next to me. We both scoffed at it and laughed about it. Because we knew he was so popular especially amongst the ladies, we thought he was joking.

During that time, I, myself was going through suicidal thoughts of my own. I didn't share it with anyone, afraid of being branded and being thought of as being "crazy"

I struggled daily about "living" but didn't know whom to talk to about it.

seeing this guy's carving set me off into oblivion. I was a bit jealous, actually, but mostly in great fear, fearing that he had seen my thoughts (but it was just a reflection of my own thoughts)

the next day, my best friend and I went to school and we saw a lot of people in the hallway crying...

our minds already went to that guy...we swallowed hard and walked through the hall...

I felt like I was on my way to being executed...my heart was already heavy and sinking...

then, as we sat at our homeroom, the news came...

he did "IT", exactly what he said he would've done...

I felt this stab...sharp, hard, piercing stab to my chest and heart...I thought I was going to faint, the world felt dizzy, and I couldn't breathe...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How do we heal? How do we go on? When all that was left were anger, and hatred for all?

I didn't say anything to anyone but my best friend, we kept it between us. Once in awhile, we'd try to talk about it. I wanted to because of my own struggles. But it always ended up being us making jokes to divert from it...

still, I know both of us were that close...wondering if we could've saved his life, if we'd just reported it. I know that we both felt like we've committed one of the biggest crimes...we helped him....we didn't say nor do anything...we even joked about it...

but we did everything we could to NOT talk about it...

I don't think we healed the right way, cause it always gnawed at me...at this place inside...slowly, it tore me apart, it lead me to my own attempts eventually....

For my own idiocy sufeited and mixed with his death...along with everything else that was tumbling down...

there was no place to run, no place to hide, no place to go...I was constantly running from myself without realizing it...

I didn't know how to forgive and forget others, most of all, I didn't know how to forgive and forget MYSELF...

anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger...

hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate...

I was consumed...and I ended up not only hating myself, but the world with it...

I was so bitter, I could taste my own biles...I wanted to take everyone on, I wanted to destroy...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where do one go from here? How does one heal??

That was the greatest gazillion dollar question for me...

where DO I go...and how DO I heal??

The easiest way out was to take my own life...tried it a few times, but for some odd strange reason, it never gone all the way through.

Someone, was probably saying to me, my time isn't done on here this earth, yet...

but then what? I became a Gypsy...I would work odd jobs, quit, traveled. Work more jobs, traveled. I never could stay in one place too long, I didn't felt like I belonged anywhere, I just kept on going, I went everywhere, in search of that ONE place that I could call "home"

I was also searching for that ONE place that would take me for whom I am, without being judged...

as much as I traveled, I couldn't find it...

until one day, I realized that, I've always carried it with me...

home was inside me...that place, was inside of me...

my gosh....I knelt down and I cried the hardest I ever did...to almost convulsion...I couldn't breath yet again, but this time, it was good...I was forgiving myself, through these tears...same salty taste, yet, the tears are now soft, and caressing, and healing...

so many hard tears shed through the years, I finally had some that was healing me...I was in my own ablution...

the piercing is still there sometimes...


BUT.....FFIF
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