A friend told me that a child in one of our city middle schools committed suicide recently. That to me is one of the most heart wrenching situations. It brings to mind that someone lost their daughter, sister, granddaughter, classmate and teammate just to name a few. All they have left now are memories and her cold and lifeless body. I find it especially sorrowful now that we’re in the midst of the Christmas season.
Most people probably think nothing of it. A person killing themselves I mean. I suppose maybe because they think it’s such a far fetched scenario that it could never touch the life of anybody close to them. I’m quite the opposite. The details of a person having taken their own, life always beckons my attention. Not that I have an obsession or anything. I’m just sensitive to it is all.
Allow me to explain why. My childhood consisted of a lot of moving. From the time I was in the third grade up until seventh grade we moved at least a couple of times a year. I literally felt like I would never know where my address was for certain, until I got off the bus and found our things were still in place. Because there were times when after I got off the bus we got in the car and drove to our newest home. With no opportunity to even say goodbye to anyone. I can tell you that it was tough for me to have friends.
Not only was I always the new kid, I was the new country kid who came from upstate Mt. Airy! After a while with my mom and new step dad always at work, a shot house or wherever, I became the one in charge of my younger sister and brother. I was always getting cussed and out and beat up for something I forgot to do. We were living in these apartments on Silas Creek Parkway one year and it was Christmas time. I had brought home a little black puppy that I found on my way home from school. I believe it was a Lab. One night we came back home to find that the puppy had torn bulbs off the tree and pooped on the floor. My mom and step dad raised hell and yanked my little friend up and took him away. I remember being so tired of living such a miserable life and not knowing what to do about it that I wanted to die, so I tried to kill myself. I swallowed a whole lot of various types of pills that I found in the medicine cabinet and I climbed into bed. Just like that.
Had I been successful in taking my own life, it would not have been because of a typical bully. They were very temporary in my life because I whooped my bully’s asses. I never had problems with my sexuality either. My problem was that I was living with a mother who was in a domestically violent relationship that involved substance abuse. She had pressures and she applied pressure to me that I didn’t believe at the time I could handle. So in essence, my mother was my bully and I felt defenseless against her for many years.
I can remember that as a child I was quite creative. Never was much of a dancer, but I loved dancing and singing just the same. I felt like I could express myself that way and at best it helped with my stress. I did think I was a pretty good drawer though. I often wonder where I might be in my life today had I had someone to encourage me in the areas that I showed any potential. That’s what I do for my children. Teach them that they are not chickens, but eagles. Be who you want to be and determine where you want to be in your adult life.
At twelve years old had I been able to take my own life, I would have missed out on so many wonderful experiences. If you have children, talk to them, hug them and tell them how proud you are of them and most importantly, tell them that you love them. Do it all the time. I kiss mine each night before bed and each morning before they get on the school bus. I’m not perfect but my kids know I love them very much.
Now at forty-four I’m trying to find comfort in saying out loud that I am smart and creative and intelligent. Those are the things that a person should grow up on, not grow into in their adult years. By then it feels sort of weird and out of place. But I’ll get there. Because I love my life and I love that I can help others by sharing my life. I don’t care who knows where I’ve been, because I know where I’m going now. And I thank God all the time for not taking me when I so wanted to leave this world. The things that didn’t kill me only made me stronger. There has always been something very special about me and I’m glad I had a chance to discover who I am.
We all need somebody to talk to. I hope you have someone, especially when it counts.
Merry Christmas,
Rozita
Most people probably think nothing of it. A person killing themselves I mean. I suppose maybe because they think it’s such a far fetched scenario that it could never touch the life of anybody close to them. I’m quite the opposite. The details of a person having taken their own, life always beckons my attention. Not that I have an obsession or anything. I’m just sensitive to it is all.
Allow me to explain why. My childhood consisted of a lot of moving. From the time I was in the third grade up until seventh grade we moved at least a couple of times a year. I literally felt like I would never know where my address was for certain, until I got off the bus and found our things were still in place. Because there were times when after I got off the bus we got in the car and drove to our newest home. With no opportunity to even say goodbye to anyone. I can tell you that it was tough for me to have friends.
Not only was I always the new kid, I was the new country kid who came from upstate Mt. Airy! After a while with my mom and new step dad always at work, a shot house or wherever, I became the one in charge of my younger sister and brother. I was always getting cussed and out and beat up for something I forgot to do. We were living in these apartments on Silas Creek Parkway one year and it was Christmas time. I had brought home a little black puppy that I found on my way home from school. I believe it was a Lab. One night we came back home to find that the puppy had torn bulbs off the tree and pooped on the floor. My mom and step dad raised hell and yanked my little friend up and took him away. I remember being so tired of living such a miserable life and not knowing what to do about it that I wanted to die, so I tried to kill myself. I swallowed a whole lot of various types of pills that I found in the medicine cabinet and I climbed into bed. Just like that.
Had I been successful in taking my own life, it would not have been because of a typical bully. They were very temporary in my life because I whooped my bully’s asses. I never had problems with my sexuality either. My problem was that I was living with a mother who was in a domestically violent relationship that involved substance abuse. She had pressures and she applied pressure to me that I didn’t believe at the time I could handle. So in essence, my mother was my bully and I felt defenseless against her for many years.
I can remember that as a child I was quite creative. Never was much of a dancer, but I loved dancing and singing just the same. I felt like I could express myself that way and at best it helped with my stress. I did think I was a pretty good drawer though. I often wonder where I might be in my life today had I had someone to encourage me in the areas that I showed any potential. That’s what I do for my children. Teach them that they are not chickens, but eagles. Be who you want to be and determine where you want to be in your adult life.
At twelve years old had I been able to take my own life, I would have missed out on so many wonderful experiences. If you have children, talk to them, hug them and tell them how proud you are of them and most importantly, tell them that you love them. Do it all the time. I kiss mine each night before bed and each morning before they get on the school bus. I’m not perfect but my kids know I love them very much.
Now at forty-four I’m trying to find comfort in saying out loud that I am smart and creative and intelligent. Those are the things that a person should grow up on, not grow into in their adult years. By then it feels sort of weird and out of place. But I’ll get there. Because I love my life and I love that I can help others by sharing my life. I don’t care who knows where I’ve been, because I know where I’m going now. And I thank God all the time for not taking me when I so wanted to leave this world. The things that didn’t kill me only made me stronger. There has always been something very special about me and I’m glad I had a chance to discover who I am.
We all need somebody to talk to. I hope you have someone, especially when it counts.
Merry Christmas,
Rozita
