This is something I have been strugling with for years, and I don't know why it's been haunting me so much lately...maybe because the aniversary of his death was last month, and it was the first aniversary I could call myself "Recovered"-...however...
Several years ago, when i was just 16, a young man in my year in school died-he killed himself. And indirectly, his death saved my life. See, the day our school found out about his suicide was the same day i was planning my own. I came in that day not with a backpack, but with a duffel bag so i could clean out my locker. But then first period we were allcalled into the auditorium and it was announced to us and I watched as my fellow students were overcome by tears-I was horrified. It could have been *me* that caused this and I knew it, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that my death would make no impact at all. So that day i went to the guidance office and it was the first day I ever got the help I needed...I got a therepist, had multiple hospitilizations, was put on medication...and now 6 years of therapy later I am considered "recovered"...
My dilema is...recently I have been feeling this really strong desire to contact his mother. To let her know that I am alive because of her son-I don't want to re-open old wounds, but he was her only son...he was never the best student, or what anyone would ever all a rolemodel...but he saved my life-and if you were his mother would you find some small comfort in knowing that? Would you want to know that?
Several years ago, when i was just 16, a young man in my year in school died-he killed himself. And indirectly, his death saved my life. See, the day our school found out about his suicide was the same day i was planning my own. I came in that day not with a backpack, but with a duffel bag so i could clean out my locker. But then first period we were allcalled into the auditorium and it was announced to us and I watched as my fellow students were overcome by tears-I was horrified. It could have been *me* that caused this and I knew it, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that my death would make no impact at all. So that day i went to the guidance office and it was the first day I ever got the help I needed...I got a therepist, had multiple hospitilizations, was put on medication...and now 6 years of therapy later I am considered "recovered"...
My dilema is...recently I have been feeling this really strong desire to contact his mother. To let her know that I am alive because of her son-I don't want to re-open old wounds, but he was her only son...he was never the best student, or what anyone would ever all a rolemodel...but he saved my life-and if you were his mother would you find some small comfort in knowing that? Would you want to know that?