In That Single Hour

A few years ago, I did not want to live anymore. I was twelve years old. To be totally honest, I don’t really know. It all just seemed so hopeless, so useless. Every single day was so tough to get through.

Sleep, school, homework.
Bullies, crying, hiding.
Insults, pretending, nightmares.
Punching, kicks, bruising.
Same old things, over and over again.

I felt like a robot just programmed to be alive but not exactly living. Life was dragging for the longest time and I was not one to be patient.

Yeah, I know. I was in middle school and middle school has a lot of nice guidance counselors to help you out. Well, I was scared of the guidance counselor because he was known to have his favorites and often made it obvious he was judging you. So for those reasons, I never told him what was going on in my head or at home. He was nice though. He let me cry in his office whenever I needed to, without questioning my, “I just feel like crying today.” He also let me play with his toys that tried to calm me down, but often didn’t work at all. And yes, I know. “Boys will be boys, kids are mean, and things will get better. Besides, it’s only middle school right? There’s nothing to worry about,” they always said. But no, it wasn’t just middle school. It was hell for me. At school, at home, around people, without people, my life was hell for me. And no one even noticed. No one ever understood.

Funny thing was, no one could have ever suspected that something was wrong with me. I had a group of friends that never questioned why they were never invited to my house. I had teachers that saw me as a bright, happy student. I had coaches and teammates that only saw the dedicated, hardworking side of me. So when I asked myself why no one ever cared, it was simply because I didn’t really let them know something was to be cared for in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, my middle school life wasn’t all sad and depressing. I didn’t fake my happiness while with friends and family, I mean not all the time at least. The demons of my mind surfaced only when I was most vulnerable, when I was alone and feeling lonely. So, don’t think this is just another sob story of a clueless, depressed middle schooler. No, I knew exactly what I was experiencing. I just didn’t know how to fix how I was feeling, to make it all better. I didn’t know how not to burst into tears every night and how not to feel so f***ing sad all the time. I didn’t know how to be okay.

Things were bad at first, but slowly they got worse and worse. My grades were falling and I spent more of my time being alone. My friends got sick of asking me to come over because they expected the answer would be “no” already. My teachers were suspicious, but they didn’t bother asking any further than, “How are you doing?” And to that, my answer would always be, “Good! I’m just slacking right now, but I’ll pick it up soon.” But it was those days that I wanted to give up most. My brother hit me more and more. My parents seemed like they didn’t even care either. And no one ever understood.

So I was left all alone. Again.

One night I was looking at myself crying in my mirror. I didn’t bother wiping my wet cheeks because I didn’t care anymore. With trembling hands, I had the intention of writing my goodbye letter to my parents, but I just ended up sitting there for a good hour letting my tears stain the lined paper. And then I began to write.

Reasons Not To
My family would miss me.
My friends would miss me.
I want to grow up and save lives.
I want to go out on a date.
I want to have my first kiss.
I wouldn’t be able to sing if I’m buried.
I wouldn’t be able to wear cute clothes anymore.
My little brothers need me.
Funerals are expensive.
I want to learn how to drive.
I want to finish high school and college.
God gave me life for a good reason.
Life shouldn’t just be thrown away.
Other people have it way worse.
I won’t let myself go down this easy.

I saved myself in that single hour.

So, I don’t know, maybe if you’re in the same situation I was in, my story will help you and I really do hope it does. When you’re all alone crying for help and nobody comes to help you, to save you, to make it all better. You pick yourself up, you brush yourself off, you be brave and you save yourself.

Because no one can fight your demons better than yourself.