She was always a regular but happy girl. She wasn’t outstanding in academics or very pretty looking, but she still was counted one among the best in class. Everything was smoothly sailing except for the little disruptions at home, which she managed perfectly. Most importantly she was happy. Then puberty happened. She got friends who had boyfriends, who expected her to have one too…or else you are too dumb or ugly. She got friends who were too pretty or pretended to be pretty and she left own funky style at bay and started following them…or else who would take her into their groups.
Academics went on a roller coaster ride. From someone who never had to be told to study, she became someone who never opened books anymore. She could not open her books, even if she did, she started day dreaming about the cool things others had, that girl who looks pretty everyday and compliments, that boy who was an all-rounder, the crush who found a new girlfriend, the all night party her parents won’t give permission for and all random things which weren’t related to academics. But she wanted to get good grades, without studying she hoped to get good grades. At home she told herself that listening in school was enough to get good grades, in class she told herself self-study was enough.
Her parents never did anything right anymore, like before. They always were nagging about something, or else they were shouting at her. She never seemed to agree with anything they said. Banging the door at their faces after the argument and screaming back at them was a routine. As if friends weren’t enough to torture, now at home too she had to go through it. Whom should she turn too, whom should she tell about her feelings that were trapped inside?
Soon she found a new friend. A friend who would always make her bleed when she was sad, and help her relieve the feelings in tears. The knife was her friend…and soon it became her best friend for two years. Everytime that she cut herself, there was physical pain that would take away her mental pain away. And getting out that burden was all she wanted. Until two years later finally someone noticed. When on a hot day, she rolled up her school shirt sleeves unconsciously without realising that she had two years of old scars to hide, S noticed.
S made sure after that day, to check her arms for new cut marks. S counted all those cut marks and whenever there were any new ones, she would take the whole day to scold her and eventually both of them burst into tears. She found someone better to trust on, someone who would not make her bleed. She forgot the knife soon, but the mental pressure and loads of burdens still stayed with her.She shifted.
Her academics turned from bad to worse and she never had much more difficult time at home. She struggled to pass, no matter what she could not study. Now that she wanted to try, nothing got inside her head. People thought she wasn’t trying, she was, but could not uplift her grades. At school, teachers lost hope, at home, parents lost hope. Her temper rose, she shouted at everything and anything.
Even when someone told her to pass a pencil, she would shout back at them like they asked her for her kidney. She got caught up in fake rumors in school. At home she got caught up in lies that other people told her parents about her. Parents thought she was the culprit. Tensions built up at home, she hated coming back to home. She hated going back to school. M was her best friend. Somehow M also drifted away from her and now she was alone. In school a group of boys asked her, “Did you understand this chapter.” When she said yes, all of them started laughing and said, “If she did, then we don’t even need to study this chapter.”
She walked away from there, but she knew she couldn’t walk away far…everywhere there were people who no longer believed in her. For a long time such incidents kept happening: insults from teachers in school, parents shouting and beating, problem with friends, problems with boyfriend, problems with boyfriend’s parents…and on and on her list went.
No one believed she needed help, she didn’t tell anyone that she needs help because she knew everyone thought she was making excuses for her mistakes. Yes, she did mistakes, huge ones …but someone had to believe in her. Only one person believed in her, since starting and believed that she could make everything alright in her life again. That one person was, she herself. Everything was going wrong, everything. Until one day she thought of making everything right. She took all the medicines in her house, which included her grandmother’s high dosage medicines; she went to the washroom, opened the tap and gulped all down. That day, she stopped believing in herself.
She went to the bed and lay down, waiting for her death to come. Images floated in her head, her childhood, her mistakes, her happy moments, and pretty much her whole life and then blank. She woke up after four hours, not in heaven/hell or in any hospital room. She woke up in the same bed, same house…everything same, except for that she was bleeding from her mouth. She ran to the washroom and vomited. That whole night she vomited. No one noticed, she never told anyone.
Never in her life was she so helpless. She called up M and spoke to her, she never told her anything. M asked her if she was fine, she said yes. After keeping the phone she realised, the world was going on fine without her. Nothing would ever change for anyone if she died.
Slowly she regained her trust in herself. She learnt to accept herself as she was. No matter how good or bad the situations were, she learnt to adapt to them. No matter how much her parents shouted, how bad grades she got, she learnt to accept all of it without harming herself.
Now that she has got back that one person who believed in herself, she knows she can live life. She has learnt to improve her life, and make it better and better. Even if things go wrong now, she doesn’t lose hope, she rectified things. Because losing one’s life, is never a way to correct things.
As tomorrow is World Suicide Prevention Day, I want to tell you all that “she” could be anyone of you. You might be facing issues worse than this, or smaller than this. Any problem no matter if small or big, it’s still a problem.And if the problem affects you gravely, do not think about others opinion that time. You may think that no one understands your problems, true; no one will understand your problems better than you. But there are people around to help. All you need is that one person to reach out to. People who commit suicide are not weak; it takes an immense amount of strength to take away your life. But, it takes even bigger amount of strength to get back your life on track. Please reach out to people, please tell someone your problem, someone will definitely help you. If you don’t know what your problem is, turn to people you trust. Just speak out, write about it, or do anything…but don’t take away your life. You deserve to be happy, just give yourself a chance to live, a chance to make everything right…because you deserve it.