I never realized I was a different person until I began to understand both sides. I was in the backseat of the car listening to my sister and father talk about the death of Robin Williams. I’ve felt this before, but in this moment I knew it. My therapist had told me to recognize my feelings. Robin Williams had recently committed suicide, and the topic of the car ride, as well as every talk show in America, was the thought of what had happened. I remember the conversation.
“Suicide is a pretty selfish thing. Actually, I think it’s the most selfish thing in the world.” My sister said, matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, and he had a whole family and friends and a great career left behind, too. How someone could just leave his wife and kids like that, I don’t understand.” Said my dad in a sullen tone.
“I understand.” I thought, or maybe even whispered to myself as I gingerly brushed the pale scars that hid a memory on the inside of my arm. My cold fingertips felt the rapid pulse of the blood within, as if my soul was looking for a way out.
I glanced out the window; forcing my mind elsewhere from this conversation I was dreadfully tired of hearing about. I blocked it out. My family’s words hit my shield harder than the rain hitting the window. The pressure of my thoughts pained my head; I thought of my mom, and how she left us.
I wondered if she had the choice, if she had been in control of her body, what she would have done. If her stroke hadn’t paralyzed her body and taken over her mind. I know she loved us, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t tired. She did leave us, under her control or not, she was gone.
I rolled down the window, and the rain began to stop as we pulled in the driveway. I opened the door as quickly as I could, and rushed to my room. Lifting up my jewelry box without a second thought, I grabbed the small blade hidden for months, and let it tumble between my fingers. My breathing staggered, and I shut my eyes as I regretfully heard my mother’s favorite song in my head. I missed her, and I didn’t want to live in this world anymore. I couldn’t help these thoughts.
Robin Williams’ face popped into my mind. I didn’t really know his story, nor did I really care. I opened my eyes. “I understand.” I choked, staring at the dull blade in my fingers. It slowly slipped from my grasp, and a thousand memories flashed through my mind. I fell against the pillow and sighed as the black ghost of depression surrounded me. I was tired, not the kind of tired that sleep could fix.