I remember being a hormonal teenager, screaming at my mother, "I HATE YOU!"
The first time she let it go. Man, how that woman infuriated me. She was stubborn for no logical reason.
The next time I screamed it, she screamed back at me, "NO YOU DON'T!"
"YES I DO!"
"No you don't, you just think you do," she looked smug.
" I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!!!," I ran up the stairs fearing what she would do next.
"T- COME BACK DOWN HERE! TELL ME YOU DON'T HATE ME!"
"I HATE YOU!" Slam.
It is a rather funny story. The only girl raised among three boys, I was subject to torture from my three brothers and my mother. Nothing was fair. There were bad times in my childhood, and good times. Even though I was very talkative as a young person, I never would express my deepest feelings or pains to anyone. I kept silent about the things I had gone through, not even my own mother did I trust with my valuable information. They took me for granted, a bit. Once, when I couldn't take it any more I woke up in the middle of the night, and I stood on a roof, and seriously contemplated suicide for 20 minutes before heading back to sleep. I didn't have anything or anyone then, but I knew there was a world out there that was amazing. I had never experienced happiness from the outside world, and I was determined to experience it first.
I didn't know why I didn't have anyone to confide in. Why things had happened to me that I couldn't tell anyone. For the most part, I was known for speaking before thinking, and speaking a lot. But when it came to painful things, I never told a soul. I thought about it often, and still think about it today-- why don't I get it off my chest. But I still know why. No good can come from it. Only selfish temporary gain.
There were times as a teenager I cut my wrists or took speed or did stupid things to fit in. I wanted change, and I wanted it immediately. I wanted my life to be perfect. I never once doubted that something good wouldn't happen to me worth living for. I guess that is why I didn't cut deep enough, and why I never jumped off that roof. Although I was alone, I knew one day I wouldn't be.
It is strange to think almost ten years later, loved by many-- I still feel alone. I guess that is what they refer to as that complex we have as humans- partly that existentialist theory.
One day, I made a list of things I want to do before I die. I know I will never have guts to jump off a bridge no matter how many times I think about it-- because I always feel like there there is some hope left out there. I told myself, I am going to make this crazy list of things to do, and only after doing all these crazy things will I **** myself- if I determine that it is worth doing. I can always add new things to the list, or cross things off the list once I completed them-- but I can't take anything off the list until I've done it. What a fun game. I am deathly afraid of heights. I hate roller coasters. I am afraid of the dark, and I believe in ghosts. I am claustrophobic and afraid of being buried alive. On my list I have written among other things-- kiss a guy under the stars, make out in a graveyard, have pre-marital ***, try ****, smoke a cigar, get crazy drunk, go sky diving, learn to surf, learn belly dancing, get a black belt, ride the world's craziest roller coaster, learn a tribal dance in Africa, fast for a month with Jain monks, visit three countries from every continent, eat snake soup, eat crocodile meat (because I am scared of anything that can eat me!), visit the wall of China, graffiti, have a three some with two very hot guys, completely learn to let go for 24 hours and do anything I think about with no inhibitions, learn 2 new languages. I've already crossed off some of the things on this list!
It is a very fun list of things to do-- and some of these things I don't know if I could ever do-- like a three some, or eating snake soup! But, until I do everything on this list, I won't think about suicide. I figure if any of the above kills me-- that is up to fate, but at least I determined my own fate and took a risk before I died. Maybe I am a coward. Maybe I am pathetic and too scared to **** myself. You are right! It might be my Christian upbringing that says suicide is a mortal sin that will banish my soul forever. As I got older, I decided that the soul never dies-- so even if I end my body-- what if my soul passes off into another life with more suffering? It is better to use this body I have in this world and make the best use of it. No one else loves me the way I love myself. Not even my own mother can. I think that is why we are all self-centered and even think of committing suicide. We can't live inside our own head, and we want someone else to take our pain away. But we just have to learn to face life!