|
My
dear friend Lindsay had been part of my life
since kindergarten. We met over her ninety- six
pack of Crayolas, a big thing to a
five-year-old. The greatest thing about our
friendship was that we completely understood
each other. We always had a smile, a joke, a
shoulder or ear to lend one another. In fact,
our favorite, thing to do was to have our
parents drop us off at a restaurant, so we could
have outrageously long talks over Mountain Dews,
and the most expensive dessert our baby sitting
money would allow.
It
was over one such talk in seventh grade where
the subject of suicide came up. We talked about
how weird it would be if one of our friends ever
committed suicide. We wondered how families
could ever get over such a tragedy. We talked
about what we thought our funerals would be
like. I did not think about it too much, it
never occurred to me that this talk was a cry
for help from my beloved friend. I had the same
frame of mind as my mother- we could never
understand how one’s life could get so
desperate that the only alternative was death.
I
didn’t think about our conversation until
three weeks later, when I received a phone call
from Lindsay. I immediately knew something was
wrong when she did not begin the conversation
with a bouncy hello and a good story. Today she
asked me if she was important to my life and if
she meant anything to this world. I answered
with an energetic “Of course! I don’t know
what I’d do without you!” Lindsay then told
me that she felt lost, confused, worthless, and
that she had a bottle of pills in her hand. She
said that she was fully prepared to take them
all, to end her life.
I
realized that I had to keep her on the phone. I
then started the longest phone conversation in
my life. Over the next three-and-a-half hours, I
listened. She spoke of how she got lost in her
large family (fifteen children, and she was the
baby), how her self-confidence was low from her
appearance (which I thought was beautiful and
unique), who she was anorexic the summer before
(I was too busy playing softball to notice), how
she was confused about her future- whether or
not she would follow her dreams or her
parents’ wishes, and how she felt completely
alone. By this time, we were both crying; she
was frustrated, I was pleading for her life.
I
first told her that everyone has problems.
It’s a part of life. That overcoming these
problems and moving onto greater heights is what
life is all about. The second thing I told her
was that if life was as bad as she said, then
things couldn’t possibly get worse. The final
simple thing I told her, was that the fact that
we were having this conversation, said that she
wanted me to know what was going on, which
proved my theory that she really wanted to live.
Her mind was saying “Help! I want to live!”
After I finished that last statement, I heard
the best sound in the world- Lindsay flushing
the pills down the toilet.
I
then went to her house, and we talked and cried
with each other. We got her some help, and
eventually, Lindsay overcame her issues. I am
proud to say that Lindsay and I will be starting
the eleventh grade together in the fall; she is
getting excellent grades, and is a happy
teenager. The road there wasn’t easy, and we
both slipped a few times. But, the important
thing is that we raised ourselves up and
arrived.
|
