Carpe diem. Thoughts are disoriented in the mind of one who has discovered. Remembering back to eighth grade there was, written on every MySpace page, something about “living” or “being”. It was a growing fad. The writers of this trend didn’t mean just existing, but taking advantage of the time we had left- seize the day.
That came off my MySpace immediately last March. People say “live your life to the fullest”. That’s not possible; No one knows how full the fullest is. We can only live, learning from mistakes, pain, and enjoying rare happiness.
Last December, one of my best friends began coming to me for comfort as corrupting thoughts invaded her mind. I told her to write out everything she felt and then shred the paper. Even better – type it out on the computer and hold down the backspace. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. She typed out a diary entry but couldn’t delete those feelings. A month later, she handed me a thick, folded letter. I promised I wouldn’t read it until we were dismissed from school, but I couldn’t wait. I took my seat first period and read her thoughts.
I’m fourteen years old – thirteen when my best friend of three years decided that she never wanted to go on. When my friend questioned her thoughts on taking her life, I was singled out – I was the one she trusted- and for months on end, I held a secret that could have cost a girl a life, a family a daughter, and children a best friend. During those months, my friend and I were drawn of sleepless nights and tears that should have never been shed.
I was stupid, acting like nothing happened. They always say, “get help”, “tell an adult when someone is suicidal”, “call the suicide hotline”. They never understood. Breaking that kind of promise is hard – my friend could hate me the rest of her life. I blew the hotline off and tried not to look towards razors or drugs to comfort the aching pain growing within me.
Occasionally I would tell my parents about how my friend wasn’t acting like herself – how she was quieter than normal. My mom finally asked me if I knew anything more. Knowing it was time, I found the note and gave it up. I was crying before she started reading; it was the first time I really could. Fear overwhelmed me. We went to my school counselors for help. They didn’t do anything. My parents sent me to therapy.
To think someone so beautiful, smart, caring, and true could do that to herself tore me to pieces, filling my head with so many contradicting thoughts that, to this day, I’m trying to sort out. Only from experiences can we grow as people. Allow yourself to have fun, love, and hurt because time is running out. Only then can you really seize the day – but never to the fullest. Carpe Diem.
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