We’ll Find Another Way
Every morning at seven o’clock sharp I wake up to the monotonous sound of my alarm clock’s beeping. I hear small, padded footsteps tip-toe into me room; my brother is awake. It seems as though the world begins to awaken at the sound of the ringing alarm, and life unfolds before me.
In this world, life is cherished, but it is also thrown away. Each day, children, teenagers, adults, and people of all races, backgrounds, and ethnicities commit suicide. As a suicide survivor, I believe that suicide is never the answer and that we will find another way.
After living through such a tumultuous event, I welcomed the pitter-patter of my brother’s feet in the morning. But I can remember days when I hated it, hated him, hated myself. I hated life. I can remember the day I hated everything so much that I decided to end my life. I reached for eight pills of Adderall, the equivalent of speed, and a glass of house cleaner .Later, I found myself sprawled in a hospital bed. I had suffered a heart attack. Colors, muted. Sounds, hushed, Tears, falling.
I could see my parent’s faces; sadness and disappointment consumed them. “How could you do this?! Why would you do this?!” they cried. I thought things were terribly difficult for me. At that time, I was struggling with Bulimia Nervosa, I had just gone through a tolling break-up and my aunt had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I never realized how much it would affect those around me.
I have always been a very emotional person with my extreme highs and my extreme lows. Some things however, just made my lows tumble farther down, into a point of almost no recovery. But after waking up in that hospital room, lost in an ocean of tears and pain, my boat found it’s way ashore to a more stable abode.
So every morning at seven o’clock sharp I wake up alongside the world and I hear the tip-toe of my brother’s small, padded feet and I smile just as the sun makes it’s way over the horizon. I am alive.