Tag Archives: hope

Another Kind Of PSA?

Picture: Blue haired anime girl.Hello, dear readers. ^_^

It’s been a while since my last post. I have a personal story that I’d like to share with you about my past and a little idea lately…

When I was a young teen, I had a best friend in Philadelphia that was around my age, a lesbian girl who knew of and accepted the fact of my bisexuality. We had known each other since we were just little girls but, in our adolescence, we pretty much came out of the closet to each other.

In that moment, I felt such a relief that I wasn’t alone, as we both lived in a very conservative community that was super religious and outspoken against homosexuality.  The ministers of our church would often preach about how homosexuals were going to be tortured in the fires of hell for all eternity.

We had both witnessed a minister’s family in our neighborhood toss their eighteen-year-old daughter into the streets because she confessed to them that she was a lesbian. The other neighbors gossiped about the event and they felt sorry for the parents for having a gay child, giving them their condolences and offering prayers that their daughter would “come away from that evil lifestyle.”

My own mother sat me and my sister down, to talk about the incident, and to tell us that if we were to commit a crime, or become teen mothers, or get into any trouble she would always be there for us and love us regardless. Except if we were gay. If we “decided” to be that, she said it would be an unforgivable embarrassment to her and she would do the same as the parents of the lesbian eighteen-year-old.

I knew that I was bisexual since the age of twelve, at a time where homosexuality was not really accepted in the media and so forth, and her warning came to me around the age of fifteen. I felt horrified and buried the truth deep down inside of me until my best friend confessed that she was lesbian.

Picture: anime girls hugging.My best friend was so afraid when she told me that she is lesbian, because she thought I wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore. I was so relieved and told her about my bisexuality, welcoming her with open arms, and our friendship seemed to grow closer since that moment.

However, my lesbian best friend decided to come out of the closet to everyone in her life. I admired and envied her courage to do that, but I was a coward and couldn’t follow in her footsteps. I witnessed the abuse she had gained from it, both verbal and physical abuse.

People often approached her and shouted “dyke” and people would fight her, leaving bruises and black eyes. She was determined to be herself and she was a scrappy fighter, giving it back as good as she got it. I was just a shy and weak wallflower that had zero skills in fighting, so I hid in my closet for several years and began to hate myself. I believed that I was “born wrong” and fell into deep depression, which led to many suicide attempts and inpatient stays in mental hospitals.

I carry a guilt of lashing out towards my best friend, as a church woman that didn’t know of her sexuality approached us and was especially kind to her. The woman mentioned how much my best friend was a good friend to me and how my best friend was certain to enter the kingdom of heaven for her good deeds.

I blurted, out of spite, “She’s gay and so that’s not true.” I put my best friend on the spot and the woman responded with a disgusted frown, but then tried to assure my best friend, “If you come away from that lifestyle, I’m sure that God will forgive you. And you will be able to go to heaven.”

I will forever be so sorry for what I’ve done to my friend. I was so angry and hated myself, and I was so jealous that she got to be free from her closet, in spite of the abuse she had suffered, to have the support and friendships within the gay community when I was too much of a coward to come out. I wanted to hurt her and I think I did on that day.

And even so, she stayed true to our friendship and never exposed my truth. I never got the chance to apologize to her, before I left Philly, and I hope that someday I will get that chance somehow. I did a very shitty thing and I’m so very sorry for it. u_u

In the meanwhile, I fell deeper into my depression and self-hatred, the suicide attempts increased. Out of sheer luck did every attempt fail, as I was determined to die and rid this world of a mistake. I truly thought of myself as not human but a mistake.

And then a wonderful PSA began to show up in my online feed: It Gets Better.

At the age of 21, I gave up my secret and came out to the people that I felt was important in my life. My mother didn’t take the news very well, most of my other so-called friends abandoned me, only my siblings and oldest nephew accepted me with unconditional love. It was a tough road to travel, but my self-hatred and depression began to lessen from that point on.

I’m now currently age 36, at the moment of this post, and I completely accept and love myself as a bisexual woman. I still struggle with depression, anxiety, and PTSD, due the abuse and trauma I had suffered – not related to my sexuality per se. I’m currently under the care of a very good therapist, in my new wonderful life in Minnesota, and I’m on the right path to recovery.

However, in the wake of the recent suicides of music artists, it does rattle me that so many people in this world who suffer from mental illness are left without hope that things can get better for them. There is no PSA for those living with mental illness to suggest that “It will get better” for them.

The PSAs for the LGBTQ+ community was very helpful to my life and good therapy has been overwhelmingly helpful to my mental illness. I have learned that it does indeed get better within mental illness, with a lot of effort and hard work with the proper help.

I am thinking that perhaps it’s time for mental illness to be understood and to be taken from the shadows and brought into the light, to let those who suffer with it know that they’re not alone and it can get better for them on the same level it is for sexual orientation.

It’s a just a little idea, but I wanted to share it anyway. ^_^

For all those who suffer from mental illness, you’re not alone. There are plenty of people who are willing to help, you don’t have to suffer by yourself! If you don’t have a friend or relative that you can turn to, there are places you can reach out to for help: Get Help. I reached out to my medical doctor, told her that I was feeling very depressed, and she referred me to my current awesome therapist of three years.

When I first moved to Minnesota, I felt my depression returning and thoughts of suicide again. I reached out to my medical doctor, three years ago, and told her that I was feeling very depressed. She referred me to my current awesome therapist, thus my depression is mild and manageable these days.

I can promise you, that it does get better. It’s very difficult, but when you come out on the other side of it, life is so very beautiful and has SO much to offer to you.

Picture: blue anime girl with dove.

Song of the day: Linkin Park – Iridescent.

Thanks for reading, as always. And be excellent to each other. ^o^v


Rest in peace, Chester Bennington. Your music was always a companion to me on my most difficult days. I will surely miss you! (つ﹏<)・゚。


Blind Adjustments

Picture: BlindfoldedGirl.It’s been a while, since I’ve last mentioned about my eye disease, Keratoconus. Here’s a little update about it, with a side of a little hope. ^_^v

In previous posts, I had argued about the FDA’s decision to not approve a procedure called “Corneal Cross-Linking” (CXL) and after some little research I quickly became aware as to why it’s not approved in the US. One of the videos that shook me the most was this one: My Life With Keratoconus (truearabhustla). The amount of pain described by this gentleman and other comments from those who went through the procedure was horrifying, to say the least.

The video concluded that even with the surgery, a patient must still wear special contacts called “RGP Lenses”, as the CXL procedure only stops the condition from getting worse, but doesn’t correct vision damage. The lenses are a lot expensive and require a lot of invested time, as it’s usual for a patient to have to return for adjustments at least three times before the correct prescription is discovered.

Of course, those who perform and study CXL make claims that the surgery can improve the eyesight of their patients without RGP lenses or any visual aid, but in my research within the testimonies of many who’ve had the surgery, it seems that CXL either has no change on their eyesight or causes vision to become worse in some cases. Hmm… u_u

My vision is so very important to me, as a writer, and this new data about CXL is less than encouraging. In fact, I’ve made up my mind that I DON’T want the procedure, and perhaps the FDA is correct in refusing to approve it for the US.

Picture: anime scientist.There’s still so much about Keratoconus that the scientists and doctors do not understand yet. Genetic research about the disease is still ongoing, which I actively partake in the 23AndMe questionnaires about eye diseases, for their genetic research projects. More treatments are being discovered and developed still.

So, I took a moment to do more research on another option. I came across a procedure called “Intact Corneal Implants”, which has been FDA approve since 1998. I browsed many testimonials from patients who’ve had the procedure and it’s not painful, recovery time is quick.

Best of all, its rate of vision correction is more promising with instant results. Most patients were able to see a lot better a few hours after the surgery. Some gained 20/20 vision, in general most patients gained better vision that required either soft contacts or low prescription glasses to correct further.

I wonder why my eye doctor failed to mention this option, as he only discussed RGP Lenses and CXL, both are not covered by my insurance so it meant money from my pocket that I do not have. And when I explained this to him, he pretty much said that he couldn’t do anything for me and to leave the premises until I had the money.

Obviously, he doesn’t know about Intact Surgery, so I searched around my state of MN until I found a place that could better suit my needs. The Mayo Clinic happens to specialize in Keratoconus and Intact surgery specifically. I’m waiting to hear word from my GP, as I need a referral to get an appointment with Mayo.

I’m not sure if my insurance will cover the cost for Intact Surgery, but it’s the exact same cost as CXL, and I almost have enough money saved for one eye. I’ll ask if it’s possible for them to just care for the one eye, although I won’t have the last $500 saved until sometime next year, due to upcoming bills and holiday season.

Perhaps there is a payment plan or maybe my insurance will cover the costs, I do not know and will not find out until I meet with a doctor at Mayo. Still, I can’t help but to feel hopeful. ^_^

Picture: Cowboy Bebop Spike.If I must choose one eye to save next year, that’s okay, because one eye is better than none. And… I could quote the badass Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop), “Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I’ve been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other. So, I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture.”

In the meanwhile…. my eyesight is getting worse in more noticeable ways that I can’t ignore or deny. It’s getting harder for me to read the labels and instructions on packages while cooking. Last month, I stood with a microwave meal in the middle of my kitchen, so hungry and unable to read how long I was to set the timer.

I cried a bit, but calmed myself enough to squint very hard. It took several minutes, before I could read that I was to set the timer on four minutes, remove the plastic cover, stir, then place the meal in the microwave for two more minutes. I know the instructions by heart now and skip reading the back for that particular meal. This is only a band-aid to a growing issue.

So, my therapist directed me to a program for the blind, to learn how to read braille. This service will come into my home and label everything for me in braille, including the stove handles, so I can know when it’s on/off without having to guess.

Hopefully, I will get training with a seeing cane as well, as the front steps and any curbside are my known enemies. It’s getting too dangerous for me to wander the outside world, without the risk of breaking my ankle or falling down stairs.

I’m not too proud to admit that I need help. Not anymore. I want to continue to be independent and such services for the visually impaired and blind will make sure I can continue to live my life the way I want to.

Picture: Shigure-Sohma.And, if there is a group for others who are struggling with adjusting with their blindness, I won’t hesitate to join. It does get tiresome when I try to speak with others about my troubles and they snort, “Well you’re not blind-blind. So, there’s nothing to be upset about.”

It’s highly annoying when some people I chat with want to believe that my vision impairment is somehow no different than their own minor vision issues like astigmatism. I miss my years, when my only vision issue was solved with a new pair of new glasses. If I could somehow get rid of my eye disease and go back to that point of my life, I would do so in a heartbeat. Those were easier days, when I had the diagnosis of astigmatism.

I’m not walking into walls for fun, nor am I having other embarrassing vision accidents just for chuckles. I can’t see, people! It can feel a lot depressing, isolating, scary, and heartbreaking at times. I think it would be helpful for me to speak with others with the same frustrations, who can understand what I’m going through or facing.

The truth is, without any surgery whatsoever, I will go “blind-blind” someday. It’s already starting in that direction, month by month, year by year. It’s uncertain if I’ll become blind in three years or next year, as no one can give me a definite answer about that, other than it will happen.

Picture: anime girl hope.However… I have a bit of hope. I’m keeping my fingers crossed about my Mayo visit. And perhaps I can adjust my life to this new change, to learn how to live with my blindness for now. I will update this subject, sometime later, as I try this new path.

Thanks for reading! ^_^v


Happiness Is What I Make It

unusual-yuna-final-fantasy-wallpaperI use to sit around in misery a lot, counting all of the things that I didn’t have in my life, all of the things that I thought I needed. I use to wish for so many things: I wish I was prettier, I wish I was smarter, I wish I was stronger, I wish I had more money, I wish I had a loving father, I wish I had the same things as my peers, I wish…

The wishes got stronger and it became: I need to be prettier, I need to be smarter, I need to be stronger, I need more money, I need a loving father, I need the same things as my peers, I need… I need these things in order to be happy! I need…

Pretty soon, this was my anthem to my depression. I began to fixate on what I didn’t have, forgetting what I did have, and I was so very convinced that the only way to find happiness is to gain the things that I did not have. Thus began a series of: If I only had the right romantic relationship. If I only had the right career. If I only had the right education. If I only had the right friends. If I only lived in the right location… I would finally be happy. I could be happy if I had those things!

The words turned into a babble of noise within my head, of wishes, needs, and “if I had”. The next word that would thunder through my mind was: WANT, WANT, WANT, WANT! By the end of it, I thought I was going insane. u_u

And maybe, in the way, I was losing it. I was so focused on what I didn’t have, believing that my answer to my happiness was something that I didn’t yet possess and was just slightly out of my grasp, that I was missing the big picture: Happiness is what I make it to be.

As Bono sang, “What you don’t have, you don’t need it now!”, I wondered to myself, “Uh-huh… so now what? How do I become happy without those things?” I use to scoff at that part of the song, until I realized that all along what I DO have I can derive happiness from it.

Yuna-Summoner-wallpaper-fantasy-games-final-full-hdI enjoy writing, so I write. I may not be famous or well known for it. I may not make money from it, and I may not make sense with it all the time. However, when I blog or write a novel, I’m SO very zen and happy! It brings me joy to ramble, even in posts like this one, and it brings me great satisfaction whenever I sit back and admire the finished project and effort I’ve put into any piece, successful or not.

I don’t need a lot of “likes” or comments, I see each of my posts here as a work of art. My art. An expression of a soul, something  that I’ve dared to share with a public, naked and vulnerable! I am proud that I am this brave to share it, even when I sometimes think “this post is too rant-y, too long, not entertaining enough, too dark, too preachy” and so on. I share it anyway! This whole blog is a work of art of my true expression and this makes me feel so very satisfied and HAPPY!

Why focus on what I don’t have within my writing, when the happiness that I do have is such a thing?  I’m going to make it as notable writer someday, that’s my goal, but I’m happy with my writing RIGHT NOW all the same!

Yuna-Sending-FFXNo, I don’t have a physical beauty about myself, but I am not ashamed to admit that I have a very BEAUTIFUL soul. It’s one of a kind, a work of art, and I don’t say that with an ego… I say that because I’ve earned it! My past pain didn’t break my soul, it didn’t smirch its beauty, my soul survived and she is a beautiful goddess! So why mourn what I don’t have on the outside, when I have that kind of beauty on the inside? Screw that! ^o^/

No, I’m not rich. I’m not even moderately wealthy. I’m dirt poor. However, with my little income I’ve enjoyed so many cool things in life, I have traveled across the country, I’ve experienced so many cool things in life, and I continue to do so! Why worry about what I don’t have, when I seem to have a wealth of things already? I’m not starving, I have a roof over my head, I’m in a warm house in the winters, and a chilled house in the summers, I have running hot water, and the internet. Why should I feel sad for anything else? o_O

Happiness is all about perspective. It’s true that those who suffer with mental illness can’t always see this perspective and for that I understand. However, for the rest of the world, I don’t get why so many people are unhappy about what they don’t have, when they have so much already. I probably don’t have as much as some others do, and yet I am happy. I mean, I really feel happy and content.

Yuna-from-Final-Fantasy-XMaybe not all the time, because everybody hurts sometimes (Wow, a lot of song references today. Hmm.), but for the most part I can say honestly with a smile on my face, that I am happy! I know what contentment feels like. And I’m not going to stop there, oh no no no… I’m aim to keep moving forward and continue to add more happiness to my life. I’ve learned to replace the grumbles in my mind with: I HAVE, ^_^

What I don’t have, I may get it someday, and perhaps I may not. In the meanwhile, that’s not going to affect my happiness NOW. So, I write.

Thanks for reading!


Time For A Serious Talk!

alknasfree-2295849I was not prepared to write another blog post so soon, however life is often a funny and unpredictable thing. Sorry in advance for any grammar errors (I’m not taking the time to let this post sit in drafts first and to mull over it). I know that everyone has heard of the sad news, about Robin Williams, and I wanted to write a little about that.

I’ve suffered with severe depression from age sixteen to age twenty-four. I would often cry for hours on end, lasting for days, or I would be unable to sleep for days in a row. I would stay in my room in Philadelphia all day and stare at the white wall constantly, unable to sleep at all. I hardly ate, I rarely had the strength to leave my bed to use the bathroom, and I often would go for months without bathing.

Everything hurt so much inside, just breathing in and out hurt, and I thought my hell would never end. I tried suicide so many times, as I believed within that darkness that it was the only answer to end my pain. I romanticized death, believed it was a beautiful thing, and convinced myself that my friends and family would be better off without me.

I felt like a burden, when people would come into my room and try to get me to eat, l felt like was sucking away their life just by existing. And I couldn’t foresee anything positive, even when my family told me that they loved me, I just couldn’t comprehend it. I imagined that if I had died, my loved ones would cry for a little bit, but ultimately they would get over it within a week and be relieved that I was gone.

This is just a few of the many negative and harmful thoughts that go through a person’s mind when they are suffering with depression. Those thoughts are highly untrue, but to a sufferer the crazy ideas seem VERY real within the grip of such darkness. Depression is an illness of the soul, mind, and spirit. And the real truth is that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

44663511I think Robin Williams’ death shook us all, because he was a guy who was so funny, seemed happy-go-lucky, and did so many nice things for others. No one would have guessed he was in such terrible pain like this, by judging the outside. That’s the sneaky thing about depression, it’s a silent and hidden kind of disease, which is not always noticeable from the outside.

My Facebook blew up with the news of Robin’s death and I instantly began messaging my friends who suffer the most with this illness, because when something like this happens, it kind of shakes our world a bit. A few of my friends were thinking that since so many articles stated, “He’s now at peace”, maybe it was something for them to aspire to. I put on my best nagging-hat and I hope that I’ve been successful in thwarting whatever dark ideas they were thinking of.

The thing is, I was lucky to survive long enough to seek treatment for my illness, before I really went too far and succeeded in my attempts. It wasn’t easy, but I fought like hell to get to the point that I am today. I know that some don’t make it, and it saddens me greatly when I hear of another good person who’ve lost the fight, but I like to keep hope that someday this illness will have a better cure available for it.

I now cope with mild depression and I see a very awesome therapist every two weeks! It’s going very well for me, so there is hope for those who suffer with depression. Most depression can be cured within six to eight months of treatment. Mine was a more serve case, so it took me two years of therapy to get to my mild range. And I’m pretty sure that with more work, I will be free of depression altogether someday.

The sad thing is, there is stigma around this illness, which shames people into not seeking help. There are some people in the world who believe (and vocalize!) that depression doesn’t exist at all. People who have never suffered with the illness like to say very ignorant things like, “Ah, just get over it! Think positive, is all.” or “The reason why you have depression is because you haven’t worked hard enough to get over it.”.

tumblr_m35foypnct1ruute9o1_1280This can be very hurtful to those suffering with depression, because if it was that easy to do, no one would ever be depressed. No one wants to be depressed and it’s horrible to suggest that someone would actually choose to be. And saying something like that to a person with depression just makes them feel like they’re more of a failure, because they can’t shrug it off and feel better instantly. It just makes their situation worse!

The best videos to explain more about depression are: I had a black dog, his name was depression and The Truth About Depression. If you or a loved one is suffering with this horrible illness, these videos may help to better understand or encourage you to seek help. It’s important to educate yourself and/or seek treatment. Remember, you’re not alone and many people in the world suffer with this illness, but there is hope. I promise!

I haven’t had a suicidal thought or attempt in over a decade. I have tamed my “black dog”, but it took a lot of hard work to do and a LOT of stubbornness. I am now living in the light at the end of the tunnel and I can’t think of anything more I would want than to live and grow old. My life isn’t always perfect, but I’ve learned to appreciate the good things that I do have and the good people I have around me.

I feel so sad that Robin Williams couldn’t see how wonderful he was or how much people loved him. It’s a huge lost to the world, now that he’s gone. Thanks, Mr. Williams, for all of the funny memories and good work you’ve done for others. It’s a real tragedy to lose you so soon and you will be so very missed. Links: Conan Remembers Robin Williams, Robin Williams as Troops “Retreat”, 5 Facts You Didn’t Know About Robin Williams. The world lost a true gem. u_u

agfriends2The one thing about this tragedy is, it reminded me more profoundly why I fight so hard against my depression. And it inspires me to keep on fighting.

Stay safe, everyone. And thanks for reading!


There And Back Again

aloneinrainI’ve mentioned it briefly before that I once had a serious issue with depression. So, I have another honest tale about myself that I wish to share, as I hope that my story can be useful for those who are going through darkness now or recently beginning their recovery from it.

I am not proud to admit this, but I have tried suicide over twenty times, within the period of a year. I’ve tried it so many times that I can’t even place a direct number, only that I lost count after the twentieth time. I’ve heard the guffaw before of, “Well… if you tried it that many times and didn’t succeed, it must meant that you didn’t really want to die.” Excuse my bluntness, but such a comment is complete horse sh$t!

Each time I made an attempt, I seriously wanted to die and took very drastic measures to ending my life. I wrote notes for it, had a clear plan and tried many methods. I never told my family or friends of every attempt, nor threaten it audibly, I kept each attempt a secret. They only knew of the bad ones that backfired and sent me to the local ER for treatment.

I won’t go into specifics, because part of what I use to do was to scan blogs and websites looking for ideas on how to kill myself. So I don’t want to be responsible for giving ideas to anyone who may be reading this blog and suffering. Nor do I want to trigger anyone who’s recovering or struggling through it still.

Let’s just say, I winded up in the local ER ten times for my bad attempts, as they went south and it wasn’t just a fail that I could “sleep off”, because I was obviously injured. I’m generally a stubborn person who doesn’t stop to get what I want (or what I perceive that I want), which is good trait to have for positive things. However,  in this time of my life, this kind of trait was a lot dangerous and potentially  deadly.

Six of those ten ER visits landed me in six different mental hospitals, two involuntary stays and four voluntary. I’ve never been in a more empty, cold, and devastating place than those hospitals. There is no hope or help to be found in those places, or at least that was my experience of them.  So, please forgive me if I don’t want to go into specifics about my stay, I rather not dwell on those memories. u_u

Anyway, the other times in the ER, I’ve gotten pretty good at fast talking and lying well to cover up my attempts, so that a medical doctor wouldn’t call in the psych doctor. I thought I was clever, but actually I was just escaping once again to make another attempt against my life.

It didn’t finally stop until I was age twenty-five. I had tried inpatient so many times and had a handful of bad experiences with outpatient therapists. For whatever reason (I still don’t know why), I decided to try outpatient again before my next attempt, and I lucked out with a good one! I am a believer of therapy, as it helped to save my life. I did most of the work, but I didn’t do it alone. ^_^

sadagirlBack then, I was a young woman who believed that there was nothing I could do to make my life any better, that there was no hope, that if I continued to live in this world I would only experience misery. I believed that my depression and despair was a permanent disease, that there was no cure for it. I believed that the only way to escape the pain was by dying.

I was too blinded by the darkness to realize that depression isn’t forever and that dying solves NOTHING. When a person dies, the part of the brain that feels relief dies too, so if I had succeeded I never would have felt that relief that I so desperately wanted. I would have died alone and in pain… that’s all folks.

And I would have cheated myself out of the wealth of happiness that was to come later in my life. I’m not trying to be over dramatic but honestly, besides my few happy moments as a child, I had NO real experiences of happiness or fulfillment in my life. If I had died back then, I would have left the world only knowing grief, emptiness, and despair. And what a shame that would have been. :-(

It’s my personal belief that suicide is a very stupid and selfish thing. I do understand being so wrapped up in one’s pain that you never think about the pain it would leave on those you leave behind. I had somehow convinced myself that when I died, my loved ones would cry at my funeral, but then they would “get over it”. In my moments of the deepest self-hatred, I convinced myself that my family would be glad and relieved to be rid of me, as I was a “burden” to them. I couldn’t have been more WRONG!

I realized how much it could affect my family, after a really bad attempt and I witnessed my sister crying. Her wavering voice and tears are forever burned into my mind, as she was falling apart at the thought that I may die from an overdose I took that night. My heart sinks to remember that moment, although it was that moment that opened my eyes to the fact that I NEED HELP.

It was my last suicide attempt eight years ago and I will never do such a thing again. I’m so sorry for the pain that I put my loved ones through over my attempts.

In 2012, I got another hard insight into what happens when someone dies when they’re not suppose to. My nephew was killed unexpectedly one early morning in Philadelphia. He was age 24 and I was sure that he would outlive me, due to the fact that he was so young.

My nephew didn’t choose to die, he very much wanted to live, but found himself with the wrong people, in the wrong place, and at the wrong time.  Every week before Christmas (the date of his death) we feel his loss the most, although we feel it every day regardless. The pain of it is ours to keep forever, we will carry it to the end of our journeys, and it will affect how we live our lives permanently.

I keep the last texts he sent me on my phone, unable to ever delete them. I’m still connected to his Facebook page and will always be so, even though he’s no longer around to update his status with crazy and funny things. I dream about him sometimes, I miss him, and I wish he was still here with us.

atearsThis is what loss do to loved ones, when they’re left behind, except I believe that suicide is worse. My nephew didn’t choose to leave us, he wouldn’t do that. And if I had succeeded in my attempts, that would have been a choice. There’s no way to justify or pretty it up… suicide is suicide. A choice is a choice. And everyone has a choice on whether or not to take their own life, EVERYONE.

A person may have their reasons, but it doesn’t make it right. And the guilt a person leaves on the loved ones will stay with them forever, no matter if the person leaves notes or messages of “It’s not your fault! Don’t blame yourself!” The loved ones will blame themselves and will always wonder, “I could have said or did this to save them. I didn’t try hard enough!”

I still feel some guilt that I didn’t nudge my nephew enough to not get mixed up with his new “friends” or maybe I should have invited him over that night instead of thinking, “I’ll catch up with him later.” I would feel a lot worse if he had taken his own life, instead of it being robbed away from him by some criminal. There is always hope to escape depression and suicide is a senseless act of murdering yourself.

The odd thing is, the person I was of pain and despair, I don’t recognize her at all. It’s like there was another person living as me, a clone of some kind. and it’s a little unsettling to feel this disconnect. When I think back on how this person use to believe “I won’t be around to see my thirties, nothing matters, everything in life is pain.”, i shudder. Who was that girl? I don’t know her! O_O

If I could somehow go back in time and meet my other self, I would shake her and shout, “Come off it! You’re in for some very awesome stuff in the future! It WILL get better and you will prevail! Now, knock it off and gather some cojones!”

Not that I believe that those suffering with depression should be handled in this way! No, never. For myself, I respond better with a little “tough love” sometimes. Heehee. ;^_^>

nightMy point is… I will never give up, I will strive to LIVE in this lifetime, and I will keep moving forward. I lived to vote for the first time at age 28, to find out what true friendship is all about, to really laugh like I mean it, to try new things and learn something new, to experience my first flight on an airplane,  and to publish my first book. I can’t wait to see what else I will explore and discover next!

Life may not be easy and nothing is ever perfect. Perfection doesn’t exist, I believe. There are times when I still feel sad for a while and when my nephew died I felt despair. However, I get through it and remember that the sadness will pass.  I’m still flying and that’s enough.

Mal: I had a good day.
Simon: You had the Alliance on you… criminals and savages… half the people on the ship have been shot or wounded, including yourself… and you’re harboring known fugitives.
Mal: We’re still flying.
Simon: That’s not much.
Mal: It’s enough.

Thanks for reading and be safe. ^_^