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An Unknown Cry This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Last fall, I was on top of the world. President of my school, captain of thefield hockey team, good grades, a perfect boyfriend; you name it, I had it.Nothing seemed as if it could go wrong. Halloween rolled around and things beganto change. The stress started to get to me, so I felt rather low. Halloweennight, I stopped by a friend's party to see some people. My bestfriend, Casey,was there; I hadn't seen him much because we were at different schools. He hadbeen drinking and I knew his mother wouldn't approve because he suffered fromalcohol and drug abuse. All I could do was tell him to be careful. He gave me hisword, a hug and a kiss - and I was off to another party.

The next morning,I received several phone calls from friends asking if Casey had killed himself. Itold them that I had just seen him. But that night, a good friend called to tellme that Casey had been found hanging in his closet the night before. I reacted insuch anger - I hated him. I couldn't believe he would do that to me. For days, Ispent all my time comforting my friends. That angered me, too. I couldn'tunderstand why his best friends had to deal with all this. I wanted to crawl upin a ball and cry. I couldn't. I was the one who couldn't cry, because I knew hewouldn't want me to. Also, I felt like I was the one who held everyone else up;if I collapsed, they would all come down on me. Everywhere you turned, someonewas crying. These people hadn't given him the time of day, but they used him forhis drugs. Now they were mourning him. I was the only person who didn't think ofhim as my dealer. I tried to help him through his drug problems and now Icouldn't mourn him myself.

Normally, I don't get angry. I'm very good atforgiving, but this seemed too hard to forgive and forget. Six weeks after Caseydied, my friend Stephen had taken his life. That loss wasn't as hard because Iwasn't as close to him. Still, I can't tell you how much it hurts to lose afriend forever. After that, everything went downhill. My relationship with myboyfriend started to drop off because I didn't feel like doing anything or goinganywhere. All I wanted to do was sit alone in my room.

During Christmasvacation, I was at my lowest. I didn't go anywhere. I sat in my room with nomusic on, crying and staring at the wall. It didn't seem like anyone cared. Noone was having problems, so they didn't call me. That's how I thought of myself: the town psychologist. Our first day back to school, I decided I wasn't going totalk to anyone. I just didn't feel like dealing with them anymore. If they wantedto talk to me, they would have to approach me.

When I got home from schoolthat day, I went to my dance classes. I came home and thought a lot, as usual. Iwrote letters to my parents, friends and boyfriend telling them that I loved themall and I felt they would be better off without me. When I finished my letters, Iwent into the bathroom and got a bottle of aspirin. I swallowed handfuls at atime, some with water, some without. My friend, Bryan, had noticed that somethingwas wrong that day, so he tried to get through to my mother, but I wouldn't letanyone help me. At about 10: 30, after taking a lot of pills, I went into my roomand lay down. At approximately 3: 00 a.m., I woke up, vomiting everywhere. It wasonly then that I went to my mom and told her that I had taken the pills. Myparents rushed me to the hospital and had my stomach pumped. I remained in a comafor a couple of days and then was taken to a nearby mental treatment center. Istayed there for a week. Being there made me realize that I had a very good life.Sure, lately there had been a lot of bumps in the road, but compared to some ofthe kids who were there, I was in heaven.

When I got home, no one treatedme differently. They all saw that they were putting me under too much pressureand needed to deal with their own problems, for the most part. I acquired higherself-esteem and learned how to cope with depression, as well. It was, without a doubt,the worst experience of my life. But, if this has helped anyone who is dealingwith depression or the loss of a friend to suicide, because they read my storyand realized that they aren't even close to being alone, I would not change athing that happened to me.

I feel that there is not enough information forkids on depression and suicide. People seemed scared of it, so they don't geteducated. I think we should have programs in school, commercials on TV and helpeducate the adults, because they are the ones kids need to look to with theseproblems, not their peers.

If you or someone you know is showing signs ofdepression (withdrawal, crying a lot, loss of interest, etc.), contact a trainedadult. Don't try to help them yourself. It's easy to get sucked down when you'rethe psychologist.


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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