Another Day (suicide prevention PSA)
I walked home after another dark, monotonous day of school. Images of the accident flashed through my mind, just as fresh and vivid as ever. The blood, the shattered glass, the smell of alcohol, and the flashing red and blue lights. but the strongest image - the one that never left me and kept me awake at night - was that of my best friend.his one snowy white for a bright shade of red. His once shimmering blue eyes glaring at me and turning dim. His once perfect body now with a large piece of metal stabbed through his chest. Then, the image darkens to nothingness.
Another day of people feeling sorry for me and asking if I'm alright. They were the ones who refused to believe. I never had alcohol before in my life, and I seemed like a good kid. My parents were rich, so they managed to keep the detail that I was drunk out of the news. When the police questioned me, I told them the truth. I knew they'd catch that I was drunk regardless, so I just fessed up. Those words to the police had been the last ones I had said, for after I received the news of my friend's death, I was incapable of speaking. That was fine with me, though.
Another day of people yelling at me, calling me a killer. They were the people who had been at the party and knew that I had gotten drunk. I had only gone to that party because my friend had insisted I come. I didn't know anyone there, but my friend begged me to stay. He gave me a drink. I knew it was alcohol, but my anxiety overpowered my judgment. I became intoxicated and by the end of the party, everyone knew my name. My friend was even drunker than I was, so I decided to drive.
That was the day I made my decision. I cleaned out my locker; I didn't want to cause any more hardship. I returned home. My parents were at work in my sister was at the mall. I entered my parents' room and headed for my dad's safe. I enter the combination (the date of my birth) and opened it. I grabbed my dad's gun and a bullet which I placed in the clip. I went to my room. I looked at my reflection in the bedroom mirror, and punched it as hard as I could. It shattered into uncountable shards of glittering release. The shattered glass brought the images back, and I smiled inside at the thought of the images being gone for eternity.
The last day of remorse, self-hatred, and emptiness. I took a piece of glass in my hand and slid it against my wrist. That was what I deserved: to bleed, to suffer, to die. The blood rolled down my forearm and I felt again. I cut myself again, blood dripping from my self-inflicted wounds. I cut myself again and again, all across my left arm. When I ran out of space, I started all over again with my right arm until I ran out of space there. Then, I cut my cheeks and muzzle. After that I felt like I had suffered enough. I put the gun to my temple, disengage the safety, and put my finger on the trigger.
I thought about my life: the good times and the bad, the people I would be leaving behind, and the people I would be rejoining. And as these things went through my mind, I realized I had much to live for. I put the gun to my side and sat down on my bed, drenching it in my blood. I sat there for an hour, until my sister returned home and saw me in my state. She ran to me and grabbed the gun. She called an ambulance. I was treated for my wounds and assigned a professional therapist, who helped me realize something. I learned to leave the past in the past, make the most of the present, and look forward to the future.
That was 7 years ago, and I've lived by this philosophy ever since. My realization that I have much to live for has been fiercely reaffirmed. When I was no longer suicidal and depressed, my therapist became my friend. That friend became my spouse, and we're happy together. I often think of how this happiness could have been non-existent with the bending of a finger.
/I know what it's like to go through depression and have suicidal thoughts. But know that there is always a better option. You may feel that there is nothing to live for, but take a moment, write down a reason to keep going, add to it every day, and look at it when you're feeling down. Write down your friends and family; these are the people that will miss you. Write down everyone they know; these are the people that will think of you. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts or actions, get professional help. If you feel sad or have had a bad day, tell your friends, I'm sure they'd be glad to help cheer you up. If you ever have no one else to talk to, you can talk to me. There's nothing I want more than for people to be happy, and I'll help you in any way that I can./