More than just a day
This topic is sensitive to many, and the only reason I would ever post a story like this is to spread awareness.
It’s okay to not be okay.
The year before
“Happy 4/20!” my friends said to me, as we had all burst out into laughter; 4/20 was something I thought was funny once I had figured out what it meant.
The number 4/20 refers to someone who indulges in marijuana, making the day, April 20, a holiday for smokers. I thought the whole concept of this was quite silly since people partake in marijuana and other drugs on a daily basis.
I was an 8th grader, and being 13, I thought everything was funny, along with many of my peers. We continued to make silly remarks throughout the day, unaware of the impact this very day would have on me.
8th grade was my prime year, I had it all! Perfect grades, comfortable in my own skin, lots of friends, and most importantly, my mental health was in the best position it could possibly be in.
It was all so perfect.
I was oblivious to the events that would take place the following year.
Six months before
Already being a month into high school confirmed that this was nowhere near High School Musical, one of my all-time favorite movie series, where they had portrayed high school to be fun and vibrant.
It was far from that, quite literally the opposite, actually. Everything and everyone felt so lifeless and dull compared to the movies.
I remember feeling so excited to officially enter high school. The eagerness that I had bottled up was indescribable. Of course, the eagerness was short-lived, and I eventually dreaded the thought of school.
As the year slowly continued, I had my first encounter with my monster.
Three months before
Being already halfway through my freshman year of high school, I felt so down, and oftentimes felt lonely regardless of how many friends I had.
I hardly ever had motivation to do homework and other assignments, resulting in a dramatic decline in my grades.
Classes had slowly turned into days of me not being there, due to my monster and the horrible comments it would make in the back of my mind.
“Nobody would care if you were gone.”
“Just end it and all the pain will go away.”
I tried my hardest every day to keep my monster out, but it felt nearly impossible, and I felt like I was losing myself slowly, piece by piece.
The month before
As I grew deeper and deeper into freshman year, I tried finding other ways to cope with my monster. To make it go away.
I thought I had found a solution.
I was highly unaware of how harmful this action was, and to this day wish I had come to the realization that there’s always a better alternative.
Sobbing on my bathroom floor with the hopes I wouldn’t wake anybody from their slumber. “Just one more time,” I kept repeating to myself trying to make my monster go away.
I couldn’t handle all the burden I had built up inside of me, but knew in the pit of my stomach that this wasn’t the way and I couldn’t let my monster win. I continued my battle.
The week before
April rolled around, and for a moment I thought I was getting better.
I was wrong.
My monster made another appearance, and I slowly lost all hope, feeling my emotions draining. I tried my absolute hardest to make it through a full school day.
It felt impossible.
Working continuously to try and better my grades, slowly losing more and more of myself to my monster.
My monster would put horrible thoughts in my head, and continued to tell me how everyone would be let down.
My parents, grandparents, and even many of my teachers had sacrificed so much for more in order for me to be here, just for me to let them all down.
My grades slipping from A’s to F’s was really hard. How had I gone from an A-average student to a D-average student in such a short amount of time? Maybe my monster was right…
Maybe everyone would be better off without me.
The day
“Happy 4/20!” I saw everyone post on their Instagram and Snapchat stories.
I had spent the past week debating on whether or not I actually committed to this.
I ultimately decided that today, April 20, 2022, was the day, and nothing, or no one could change my mind.
My alarm went off indicating it was time for school. Per usual I got up, got myself ready, and headed off.
Once I had arrived at school, I ended up resorting to my safe space, the school bathrooms, where I had ended up crying.
After about 10 minutes, the bell rang and I quickly wiped my tears before heading off to class.
The school day went off without any hassles, up until 5th period. I ended up excusing myself to the bathroom, carrying the sharpest thing I had with me.
I wore ripped jeans that day. I didn’t wish to cause attention to my legs and wrists, but I did in the sense that I wanted to be seen.
After my bathroom break, I began walking back to class. My class, being Instructor NateTownsend’s biology class, was quite a walk from the bathrooms, and once I was about halfway towards his classroom, I suddenly began to feel lightheaded and dizzy. I pushed it aside, and class continued as it normally would.
Once class was over, I realized that 6th period was it. I was almost there.
Walking into my successful living course, I had taken a glance to my right, noticing three boys pointing at me and whispering nasty things. Immediately I felt embarrassed, and wanted to walk back out: But knowing this would be the last time I would have to deal with this, made me suck it up and take my seat.
Sitting there in pure silence not knowing how to cope with all the rude remarks felt life a lifetime. The silence was short-lived, and one of the boys had finally spoken up.
“Look at your legs, freak. At this point you should just kill yourself.”
I sat there in pure disbelief with the hopes that I didn’t hear them properly. I did.
The smirk on his face said it all.
He and his friends started chuckling, leaving me to sit and wonder how some people could be so cruel.
After school, I excused myself to the washroom to take a bath, with the hopes it would help clear my mind.
I sat there, mindlessly scrolling through my gallery. All the photos and memories would be washed away after tonight. As I continued to scroll, I started to feel anger being built up inside me. Why did my monster pick me? It could’ve picked anybody else, but it chose me.
Once I finished my bath and tidied myself up, I made my way towards our pill cabinet, grabbing the first bottle I saw.
Both of my parents were asleep, so I hastily ran back to my room. I took an adequate amount of pills and began to feel lightheaded. My stomach began to turn, and something didn’t feel right.
I rushed towards the bathroom, realizing that my body couldn’t take all the pills I had just previously swallowed. This resulted in me ejecting every single last one.
Once I had finished, I sat on my bathroom tiles in disbelief at what I was about to go through with.
I was disgusted with myself and how I had almost thrown my whole life away.
Two years later
I’m a junior now, and April 20, 2022 still holds a significant impact on me,
My story may not be the worst a person has ever heard, but I’m proud.
I’m proud of myself.
I’m proud because I’ve found healthier coping mechanisms; I’m proud because I’ve been bettering myself; I’m proud because I’m me and I survived.
My story is one of many, and throughout my freshman year, I felt alone and felt as though I had no one to talk to. I was wrong.
After sharing my story, I have the hope of proving others wrong because no one is alone, and even when it feels like it, people care.
April 20 is more than just a day, it’s my story on how I survived my monster.
It gets better.
