I know a friend. She is fourteen years old. She is a daughter, a sister, and a human being. She loves to sing and read. She tries to be kind to everyone. She tried to kill herself. You would think she’d be happy, she has a loving family, a wonderful house, and plenty of things to be grateful for. She also hates herself. She thinks her hair is ugly, she can’t stand the sound of her voice, and no matter how hard she tries she can’t talk to people without feeling like she is screwing everything up. She feels trapped all the time by her own brain.She feels like she is sacrificing her own sanity by living. She doesn’t want to die she just wants to be in a eternal numb where she can’t hear her own thoughts constantly criticizing everything she says. She isn’t the only one. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for 15-to-24-year-olds, and the sixth leading cause of death for 5-to-14-year-olds.
That friend is me. I am fourteen years old. I’m a daughter, a sister, and a human being. I love to sing and dance. I tried to kill myself. It started in the beginning of seventh grade when I got my first consistent panic attack. I wouldn’t wish a panic attack on my worst enemy. Imagine you’re in class, at work, even the grocery store. Something has happened, you got a bad grade, your boss yelled at you, you said a word wrong and suddenly your world has stopped. Your throat is closing, are you suffocating because it feels like your suffocating. You can’t breathe, it feels like you’re drowning. Everything is blurry from the tears that you’re trying desperately not to spill. You don’t want to embarrass yourself even more. But you can’t hold it in anymore as the tears pour down your face, you try every breathing exercise that your therapist has taught you. One deep breath in...one deep breath out..one deep bre- why can’t you calm down, why do you have to let little things affect you like this. Eventually, you get used to it, you learn how to cry without anyone else realising. You tell yourself you can be a whole person even when you feel like you’re nothing.
This happens to me all the time, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes off and on the whole day. I can’t stop it and I can’t prevent it from happening if I’m in a public setting. I don’t want to know how to tell my teacher or would they respond if I told them, “sorry I can’t answer that question because if I do I’ll have a mental breakdown.” How do you explain this to people who don’t know what it’s like. I often think if one of my friends had to walk in my shoes for a day, would they fall apart. Because most days I feel like nothing is keeping me together. I have struggled with my self image most of my life. I’m even self-conscious around my parents, I ask myself if I’m boring them, if they only say they like something I did because I’m their daughter. The saddest part is if this was anyone’s life, but my own I’d feel sympathy for them, but because it’s me I feel nothing but guilt and a shame.
One day after a specially bad day school, I attempted to hurt myself. I remember feeling like I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want to live either. I wanted to be numb, I wanted my own consciousness to disappear. I took a handful of pills and once they were in my mouth I immediately spit them out. I finally realized I wasn’t okay. The same day I broke down to my mother confessing what I had done. She try to pick up my broken pieces, but she at the same time was dealing with the aftermath of finding out her child had try to kill herself. We both agreed I needed help and the next day I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I spent three nights there and when I got out I was treated two ways. Either what I had done was delinquency or it wasn’t acknowledged at all, as though it didn’t happen. The former started as soon as I was in the psych ward, a nurse said to me, “try to make this visit a positive change, you seem like a good kid. You seem like you want to make your parents happy”. What does that even mean? That the fact that I had a mental breakdown meant that I was bad kid or that my decision was stupid. That I was trying to get back at my parents. Do I regret what I did? Absolutely, but that doesn’t mean it was a act of rebellion against my parents. My parents are the one thing that has been keeping me going, but they don’t have the capability to understand how trapped I feel. All the nurses in the psych ward treated me and the people their like we were bad kids. They told us we were wasting are parents time and money by being here. That we were being selfish. Even my best friend treated me like this, couldn’t she see that I was struggling? Couldn’t anyone see that I was trying hold the world together? That I was constantly living in a nightmare that I couldn’t escape.
Once I got out, relatives and friends acted like it didn’t happen. They were the same, but I wasn’t. Once I got out it felt like my whole world was flipped upside down, I gone through something traumatic and they hadn’t. It seemed only my parents understood because they were going through the same trauma. I felt alone and I didn’t know how to talk to people. I didn’t want to announce it to the world, but I also felt isolated not talking about it to anyone. I felt I was falling farther away from my peers. Students get told from the moment they enter school that they can turn to a adult if they need help from a bully, but the only bully I had was my crippling anxiety and alienating isolation. How could I tell my teachers that the only problem was me. The idea of telling my teacher what I had done was petrifying and still is.
Nobody wants to talk about suicide until somebody dies. Even then it still gets brushed under the rug. Suicide is uncomfortable and awkward to talk about, especially to middle schoolers. But not talking about doesn’t make it disappear, it just makes everyone who is struggling that much more alone. If we don’t educate students than how are they going to deal with feeling these emotions. They won’t know how to deal if they aren’t given healthy coping mechanisms. By not giving them support their more susceptible to hurting themselves, hurting others, or abusing substances. Before me a girl in my grade was saying she was going to kill herself and she was sent away. No teachers said anything. A boy from another school in are district killed himself and no one said anything. How many children have to die before it isn’t uncomfortable anymore? The suicide rate for girls has doubled since 2007 and it’s just going to get higher if we don’t say anything.
No one should feel like they can’t go to their teachers, parents, or guidance counselors, but this is the sad reality for most. By getting rid of the stigma and helpfully leading children into the right direction by teaching self love, self care, and acceptance. I believe we can show all students they aren’t alone and school is safe environment where you talk about your feeling without being scrutinized. By not saying anything we are giving into the idea that those who are struggling are not normal. We need to wake and realize that the real normal is the millions of children suffering. Teachers need to be informed to recognize when a child is struggling, it can be easily identified if you’re paying attention. We don’t have to lecture about suicide if parents or teachers are still too uncomfortable, but we also need to address feelings of anxiety and depression, both illnesses being the most common for teenagers. If we spent a fraction of the time talking about mental illness that we spent on pep rallies we could be saving lives and helping youth who have nowhere else to turn. Those who have lost their path and need guidance from the adults that will shape their life forever. Students need to know that you can feel sad with nothing to be sad about. They need to know that they won’t be left behind because of a illness. They need to know that they aren’t alone. Not only will this help students, but it will help parents acknowledge and help if their children if they are facing adversity. We need support groups for students who need help, we need to show that if aren’t okay, the adults if your life are going to do everything they can to help you. The more we normalize, the more we safe. I was lucky, but not everyone will be. So I leave you with one question. Are you ready to speak up and give help to those who need it? Because I am.