I'm gonna write this in poem format. Screw organization and a 'narrow and manageable' subject. It's just easier to write a ridiculously long 'freeverse' sometimes... as you may have noticed I've done... several times before.
----
I don't know how or why
But maybe I do
The lady who threatened suicide
Because her son was an atheist
She was terrible,
Teaching him to sin already!
Saying things no better than her poor son.
Love and nurturing him back
The prodigal
That was what she needed to do
But now I understand
Why she said what she said
Why she thought what she thought.
Lord, Lord forgive me
For ever thinking that way.
You put me here to love and show people your light.
Not fall into the darkness.
The darkness is all around me.
It is just too much.
Last night, it almost seemed worthless.
How could I fight all of this?
How would I last?
When no one truly believes...
Lost faith in people, slowly losing faith...
In You.
I never want to do that.
I never want to be so selfish.
Thinking of my family and friends,
They need me.
No, they need YOU. But,
You might be using me
To bring them to you.
God, forgive me.
If the country falls apart, bless us please.
If I screw up, please forgive me.
If they screw up, may they see Your light and confess.
Despicable thoughts that entered my mind.
Lord, forgive me for them.
Only once had they come before.
And it was only because I thought I was hated.
And none of that was true.
God, You surround me with so much love.
Forgive me for being so selfish.
Forgive me for thinking of murdering this piece of Your creatiion.
It was I, I would hurt, and yet, the others would grieve.
And I would be lost, forever.
And I never want that. Lord, please, please forgive me.
Never.
Lord, I value you. You love me. Lord, I love you.
I love the people you put me with.
I love even the sinners.
I try to discern.
I want to be Yours.
And I want them to be Yours.
Your unfailing love, Your love, Your kindness, compassion.
Your mercy, Your grace.
I need it, they need it.
Lord, You forgive. You are amazing.
To think that the Creator of the earth, the stars, the world, everything
Would take time to listen to me.
Lord, You only let me fall to my knees.
And I praise You. For loving me, even in the worst thought of sin.
Lord, I know You forgive me.
Lord, I trust You.
I know Your will is so much bigger than mine.
The plans for my life, You held, even before my birth.
You will not forsake me.
Forgive me for ever forsaking you.
Lord, I truly give You my life.
I will do as You command me.
Because You are God, You are awesome.
Thank You, Lord.
For saving me.
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Haunted (inro/beginning/part 1/etc.; the story based on the morbid email; read note for more detail.
Author's Note: Remember the morbid story I said was inspired by that morbid email? Well, I'm writing it now. May I warn you, that this is a very roughly written draft/thing that I probably won't edit before publishing here. If you notice any conventional (grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc.) mistakes, let me know. Other than that, just tell me what you think.
Another warning: THIS STORY IS SAD. o.e Also rather dark, dealing with situations that involving suicide, self-injury, death, school, and perhaps selective mutism. So, please read at your own disgression.
The email was about a girl who was called ugly and undatable by a boy she liked, a boy afraid of what his friends would think, and who supposedly killed herself by slitting her wrists, cutting her face, and perhaps also drowning herself. It was titled "NO GIRL DESERVES TO HAVE THIS TOLD TO HER!" which I agree with.
But I knew that that was not the whole story, if the story were true, or not...
What about her family? Her mother, the only mentioned parent in the email? Friends? Her school, community? And of course, the boy. The aftermath of this girl's tragic and avoidable death. There was so much more to it than this, shock value, how terribly destroyed that girl's self-esteem was.
I kept thinking. And I got to writing.
-------
You lied to her.
Look what happened now.
No... no, this couldn't...
You killed her.
It wasn't true. It wasn't murder. He did lie.
But she was gone... forever....
Haunting you...
---
Those words on the mirror. Why did she never tell them?! How could this have happened?!
Marley didn't think she could handle this... She didn't even know. She didn't even know what was happening to her friend. The shock would never wear off to her...
"Am I pretty enough now?"
She couldn't even bear go to that funeral. But she had to.
She did, barely making it out of the church... no one ever used the word... why the casket was closed...
She couldn't even think of that word.
Death was always a sad, miserable thing. But it was an incredible, deep, pain when it's someone you loved. Kristen.... she was practically her sister. Gone. Forever. She didn't even get the chance to turn 14.
Her lost life in her own hands...
She could never think of her dear friend that way...
---
Jess locked herself in her room, trying to blank out, blasting Linkin Park, then Flyleaf, Evanescence, My Chemical Romance, and then more Linkin Park, shutting up her brain, and damaging her ears, silencing her emotions.
She didn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it.
Whatever screwed up the people in these bands, excluding Flyleaf, couldn't have been worse than what had just happened.
She wouldn't believe it.
On Monday, she would go to school, and talk to her best friends, Kristen, Marley, and Sandra, like nothing had happened, BECAUSE NOTHING HAD.
She refused to go earlier. She wouldn't believe it.
Her parents tried to get past her locked door... she couldn't even hear them knock. She turned up her mp3, earbud headphones that curled over the back of her ear, with powerful amplification, made her music louder.
Her eyes betrayed her, tears slipping through them, as hard as she held them back... she wanted to call her. Ask her what was wrong. Apologize for anything she might have done, comfort her, call Sandra, have her help...
But that part of her inside, knew she would never be able to do that again.
----
Sandra prayed, she cried, and prayed. And then she laid in bed, just laying there, staring up at the ceiling, her shoulder-length, dark brown, hair sprawled out on her pillow. She had changed as soon as she got home, half-wanting to burn that black skirt and jacket she'd worn... maybe she wouldn't remember as well.
How could she be gone? Why...?
She turned toward her pillow, curling up beneath her sheets, and crying once again... too many questions... she knew it happened. It was just too much, though... she asked why, again, and again...
She couldn't believe she was gone...
Bzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzzzzz, Bzz...
She reached for her phone, sniffing slightly. "Hello?" she said, quietly, coughing slightly to clear her throat from the hoarseness it had from crying so much.
No answer, but someone else's sobbing over the phone... Marley. A hangup.
And then a ring of a doorbell. Her parents opening the door, their footsteps below, and then someone else's, no doubt, rushing up there. Marley...
The friends through their arms around each other, crying, and holding each other, not even caring anymore... they couldn't hold back their tears. This was all too real to them...
---
Jess opened her window, sneaking out the back, and down the gutters, through Sandy's backyard, and through their back door. Marley was already there....
She snuck up there deliberately, still holding back her own tears...
The door creaked open, the sound her friends' sobbing much too loud, and she couldn't hold back any longer.... she put her arms around the both of them, and cried silently.
They were undoubtedly missing someone... someone they weren't getting back... it seemed incomplete. And so they cried, not saying a word, while they held each other close, afraid to let go...
Another warning: THIS STORY IS SAD. o.e Also rather dark, dealing with situations that involving suicide, self-injury, death, school, and perhaps selective mutism. So, please read at your own disgression.
The email was about a girl who was called ugly and undatable by a boy she liked, a boy afraid of what his friends would think, and who supposedly killed herself by slitting her wrists, cutting her face, and perhaps also drowning herself. It was titled "NO GIRL DESERVES TO HAVE THIS TOLD TO HER!" which I agree with.
But I knew that that was not the whole story, if the story were true, or not...
What about her family? Her mother, the only mentioned parent in the email? Friends? Her school, community? And of course, the boy. The aftermath of this girl's tragic and avoidable death. There was so much more to it than this, shock value, how terribly destroyed that girl's self-esteem was.
I kept thinking. And I got to writing.
-------
You lied to her.
Look what happened now.
No... no, this couldn't...
You killed her.
It wasn't true. It wasn't murder. He did lie.
But she was gone... forever....
Haunting you...
---
Those words on the mirror. Why did she never tell them?! How could this have happened?!
Marley didn't think she could handle this... She didn't even know. She didn't even know what was happening to her friend. The shock would never wear off to her...
"Am I pretty enough now?"
She couldn't even bear go to that funeral. But she had to.
She did, barely making it out of the church... no one ever used the word... why the casket was closed...
She couldn't even think of that word.
Death was always a sad, miserable thing. But it was an incredible, deep, pain when it's someone you loved. Kristen.... she was practically her sister. Gone. Forever. She didn't even get the chance to turn 14.
Her lost life in her own hands...
She could never think of her dear friend that way...
---
Jess locked herself in her room, trying to blank out, blasting Linkin Park, then Flyleaf, Evanescence, My Chemical Romance, and then more Linkin Park, shutting up her brain, and damaging her ears, silencing her emotions.
She didn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it.
Whatever screwed up the people in these bands, excluding Flyleaf, couldn't have been worse than what had just happened.
She wouldn't believe it.
On Monday, she would go to school, and talk to her best friends, Kristen, Marley, and Sandra, like nothing had happened, BECAUSE NOTHING HAD.
She refused to go earlier. She wouldn't believe it.
Her parents tried to get past her locked door... she couldn't even hear them knock. She turned up her mp3, earbud headphones that curled over the back of her ear, with powerful amplification, made her music louder.
Her eyes betrayed her, tears slipping through them, as hard as she held them back... she wanted to call her. Ask her what was wrong. Apologize for anything she might have done, comfort her, call Sandra, have her help...
But that part of her inside, knew she would never be able to do that again.
----
Sandra prayed, she cried, and prayed. And then she laid in bed, just laying there, staring up at the ceiling, her shoulder-length, dark brown, hair sprawled out on her pillow. She had changed as soon as she got home, half-wanting to burn that black skirt and jacket she'd worn... maybe she wouldn't remember as well.
How could she be gone? Why...?
She turned toward her pillow, curling up beneath her sheets, and crying once again... too many questions... she knew it happened. It was just too much, though... she asked why, again, and again...
She couldn't believe she was gone...
Bzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzzzzz, Bzz...
She reached for her phone, sniffing slightly. "Hello?" she said, quietly, coughing slightly to clear her throat from the hoarseness it had from crying so much.
No answer, but someone else's sobbing over the phone... Marley. A hangup.
And then a ring of a doorbell. Her parents opening the door, their footsteps below, and then someone else's, no doubt, rushing up there. Marley...
The friends through their arms around each other, crying, and holding each other, not even caring anymore... they couldn't hold back their tears. This was all too real to them...
---
Jess opened her window, sneaking out the back, and down the gutters, through Sandy's backyard, and through their back door. Marley was already there....
She snuck up there deliberately, still holding back her own tears...
The door creaked open, the sound her friends' sobbing much too loud, and she couldn't hold back any longer.... she put her arms around the both of them, and cried silently.
They were undoubtedly missing someone... someone they weren't getting back... it seemed incomplete. And so they cried, not saying a word, while they held each other close, afraid to let go...
Saturday, June 14, 2008
A Reflection on A Funeral and Someone's Loss
I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack
I first heard this, or at least remember it the most recognizably, at a funeral. For someone whose son I hardly knew, and I probably had only seen him a couple of times in person... and never even spoke to him. I felt like I'd known him, just by what the pastor, or whoever spoke the longest up front said... I saw his daughter, my brother's age, walk up there, and say something. I was sitting on a higher level, but I saw the moisture in her eyes... his son, I don't exactly remember, but I'm not sure whether he came up there directly or not... I don't think he did, and if he did, I don't remember.
The song, "I Hope You Dance", was sung by someone I also didn't know... it didn't at all feel awkward to me, to be at a funeral that I felt I didn't know much. I was trying to pay respects, and to show my sympathies... at least without saying much. It made me silent. This whole thing. The first time I went to a funeral and comprehended it. It was last year, in sixth grade. We were allowed to walk to the church, along with our teacher, if we felt driven to go, for it was during the schoolday.
I couldn't believe it. It was horrible. Terrifyingly depressing. I just... I couldn't get myself to speak. I'd lost my ability to severely cry after a while, so I'd only almost cried... but almost crying is crying enough... if there are tears in your eyes for emotional purpose, it counts. I felt myself feeling empathy for this family. I felt a desperate need to reach out to his son, or anyone of them, in some way. But I wasn't someone close to them.
I had an almost morbid drive to write a poem about this. Any of it. I came up with one in my head, practically murmuring the words under my breath, when we got back to school. I didn't understand how the world could keep going when this family had lost someone so close, so important, so significant...
And I wrote the poem, about two weeks after. It wasn't like I imagined. But I'd written it.
A Family's Loss
A loving man
A life so great
Until it started
To fall, and break
A family's loss
A crying child
A grieving wife
A saddened son
His taken life
They were so close
But then they decided
To make a choice
To be apart
The children not
Understanding
Wondering why
They'd choose such a thing
A condition worse
Than cruel disease
Something that prevents
Enjoyment of life
A sadness deep
Yet almost hidden
Except by those so close
Who knew
Something he did
To try and stop it
But was unsuccessful
Pain worsening
So cold
Feeling so saddened
Every day, hurting
Nothing left
To do, but leave
His family grieving
Children's peers wondering
So many questions, answers unkown
And as the children are now crying
They will never forget
That loving man.
I didn't title it until I put it online, last November. It felt wrong... though I changed the dedication, so that it would be universal.
"These poems are a couple of older ones that I wrote when two students' and their families at my school experienced great loss. Dedicated to those who have had to go through things that the people from my school went through. I pray for you all every night, and hope for healing for all who have lost someone this important."
I think because I tried to make it universal, people would automatically come up with a natural cause for what had ocurred... and the only reason why this occasion was so terrible to me, was because this man had gone from something that couldn't be forgiven. And he'd left his family... like the poem said. He wasn't just taken... I don't know what to make of it. I know why, I can figure it out. Or not... but to watch someone go through that... and then to just hear it... that someone like that was gone, because of this. I don't ever know how his son managed. He seemed fine when he came back to school... I was extremely unstable in sixth grade, like, in the sense that I was pretty depressed and... dark..., so, I was amazed that he seemed fine. I think I almost wanted him to seem worse, looking over my diary, I think I wanted it for theatrical purpose, for writing something. And so I called myself psychotic and a whole bunch of other things I'd rather not talk about... but this isn't about me. I talked to the guidance counselor's sub (The other guidance counselor was out for a while), during a time, and referenced how surprising it was to see him so 'okay', during school, after what had just happened. And she explained that he probably has some times when he breaks down and maybe just cries when he thinks about it... I realized how wrong I'd been. I wasn't being empathetic, or compassionate, or even sympathetic then. I realized that he was probably mourning still, hurting terribly. And later on, now that I think about it, a lot of people think it's so wrong for a guy to cry in public... I realized, with loss, people will cover things up to make it seem they are strong, (while it's not weak to cry, or mourn, or feel hurt and show it), or for the sake of others, or they'll just go out and show the world how they feel, or they don't show it in public, or they close up completely... I've never experienced something so painful, so I don't know how it really feels, at least with that as a purpose.
I prayed for them every night for at least the next three months. Just silently, but I did. Though I was very selfish in the beginning, I wanted to do whatever I could to be there for them. I knew God was there for them. Even though they'd experienced a tragedy, he was there. I prayed for their faith, for their healing, for mercy and grace, and so much for healing... and I pray that they are recovering, though I know for sure, this is not something they will forget.
I don't know why I'm reliving this right now... This song. I continue listening to it right now. It felt like torture for a while. Even though it's a beautiful song, I always remember this when I hear it... Tommorrow, these guys aren't going to have their dad there... and I don't what I'd do without my dad. So I thank God for my family, for my father, especially, and for everything he's given me. For this beautiful life. Lord, don't ever let me do this... I pray for the future for all of us. I pray for the family I just wrote about. May they heal, Lord, and continue loving, and never forget what it's like. May they see Your love everyday.
Bless them, Lord, heal all who have suffered loss. Thank you for all the blessings you have granted my family, and all Lord. May we have hearts that please you.
Amen.
I first heard this, or at least remember it the most recognizably, at a funeral. For someone whose son I hardly knew, and I probably had only seen him a couple of times in person... and never even spoke to him. I felt like I'd known him, just by what the pastor, or whoever spoke the longest up front said... I saw his daughter, my brother's age, walk up there, and say something. I was sitting on a higher level, but I saw the moisture in her eyes... his son, I don't exactly remember, but I'm not sure whether he came up there directly or not... I don't think he did, and if he did, I don't remember.
The song, "I Hope You Dance", was sung by someone I also didn't know... it didn't at all feel awkward to me, to be at a funeral that I felt I didn't know much. I was trying to pay respects, and to show my sympathies... at least without saying much. It made me silent. This whole thing. The first time I went to a funeral and comprehended it. It was last year, in sixth grade. We were allowed to walk to the church, along with our teacher, if we felt driven to go, for it was during the schoolday.
I couldn't believe it. It was horrible. Terrifyingly depressing. I just... I couldn't get myself to speak. I'd lost my ability to severely cry after a while, so I'd only almost cried... but almost crying is crying enough... if there are tears in your eyes for emotional purpose, it counts. I felt myself feeling empathy for this family. I felt a desperate need to reach out to his son, or anyone of them, in some way. But I wasn't someone close to them.
I had an almost morbid drive to write a poem about this. Any of it. I came up with one in my head, practically murmuring the words under my breath, when we got back to school. I didn't understand how the world could keep going when this family had lost someone so close, so important, so significant...
And I wrote the poem, about two weeks after. It wasn't like I imagined. But I'd written it.
A Family's Loss
A loving man
A life so great
Until it started
To fall, and break
A family's loss
A crying child
A grieving wife
A saddened son
His taken life
They were so close
But then they decided
To make a choice
To be apart
The children not
Understanding
Wondering why
They'd choose such a thing
A condition worse
Than cruel disease
Something that prevents
Enjoyment of life
A sadness deep
Yet almost hidden
Except by those so close
Who knew
Something he did
To try and stop it
But was unsuccessful
Pain worsening
So cold
Feeling so saddened
Every day, hurting
Nothing left
To do, but leave
His family grieving
Children's peers wondering
So many questions, answers unkown
And as the children are now crying
They will never forget
That loving man.
I didn't title it until I put it online, last November. It felt wrong... though I changed the dedication, so that it would be universal.
"These poems are a couple of older ones that I wrote when two students' and their families at my school experienced great loss. Dedicated to those who have had to go through things that the people from my school went through. I pray for you all every night, and hope for healing for all who have lost someone this important."
I think because I tried to make it universal, people would automatically come up with a natural cause for what had ocurred... and the only reason why this occasion was so terrible to me, was because this man had gone from something that couldn't be forgiven. And he'd left his family... like the poem said. He wasn't just taken... I don't know what to make of it. I know why, I can figure it out. Or not... but to watch someone go through that... and then to just hear it... that someone like that was gone, because of this. I don't ever know how his son managed. He seemed fine when he came back to school... I was extremely unstable in sixth grade, like, in the sense that I was pretty depressed and... dark..., so, I was amazed that he seemed fine. I think I almost wanted him to seem worse, looking over my diary, I think I wanted it for theatrical purpose, for writing something. And so I called myself psychotic and a whole bunch of other things I'd rather not talk about... but this isn't about me. I talked to the guidance counselor's sub (The other guidance counselor was out for a while), during a time, and referenced how surprising it was to see him so 'okay', during school, after what had just happened. And she explained that he probably has some times when he breaks down and maybe just cries when he thinks about it... I realized how wrong I'd been. I wasn't being empathetic, or compassionate, or even sympathetic then. I realized that he was probably mourning still, hurting terribly. And later on, now that I think about it, a lot of people think it's so wrong for a guy to cry in public... I realized, with loss, people will cover things up to make it seem they are strong, (while it's not weak to cry, or mourn, or feel hurt and show it), or for the sake of others, or they'll just go out and show the world how they feel, or they don't show it in public, or they close up completely... I've never experienced something so painful, so I don't know how it really feels, at least with that as a purpose.
I prayed for them every night for at least the next three months. Just silently, but I did. Though I was very selfish in the beginning, I wanted to do whatever I could to be there for them. I knew God was there for them. Even though they'd experienced a tragedy, he was there. I prayed for their faith, for their healing, for mercy and grace, and so much for healing... and I pray that they are recovering, though I know for sure, this is not something they will forget.
I don't know why I'm reliving this right now... This song. I continue listening to it right now. It felt like torture for a while. Even though it's a beautiful song, I always remember this when I hear it... Tommorrow, these guys aren't going to have their dad there... and I don't what I'd do without my dad. So I thank God for my family, for my father, especially, and for everything he's given me. For this beautiful life. Lord, don't ever let me do this... I pray for the future for all of us. I pray for the family I just wrote about. May they heal, Lord, and continue loving, and never forget what it's like. May they see Your love everyday.
Bless them, Lord, heal all who have suffered loss. Thank you for all the blessings you have granted my family, and all Lord. May we have hearts that please you.
Amen.
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