My essay that I wrote for my english class on the time that my grandmother saved my life when I was going to kill myself.
"Your Grandmother is in the hospital again She had another stroke." Try being told that when you just woke up in the morning during your summer vacation. Especially when that same Grandmother was in the hospital less than 10 years ago for another stroke.
That was what my mother told me one June morning when I woke up. As long as I could remember, my Grandmother has had problems reading and writing, due to a stroke that she had while I was in the second grade. She barely made it out alive, and was told that she probably wouldn't survive another one. So the fact that she was in the hospital for another stroke was the scariest thing in the world at that point.
My grandmother and I have always been close. She was the one that I would tell everything to, and the one that I would joke around with. My childhood was filled with ever lasting weekends at her house, staying up late and eating ice-cream for dinner. As I got older, I still had these weekends with my Grandma, but they became a place to hide out from my problems in my life, not a place to have fun.
In December of 2009, things were at an all time low for me. I wasn't doing that well in school, I had basically no friends what so ever, it seemed like my mom and dad cared more about my younger brother than me, I was crying all the time, etc. I was depressed and suicidal. And my grandmothers' house was a place that I could get away from everything.
As my grandmother and I were wrapping Christmas presents together one December night, she started to ask me the usual questions: How school was, friends, etc. I shrugged them all off, just wanting her to stop talking about all those things in my life that depress me.
"Everything going okay?" she asked me as we wrapped yet another gift together.
"Yeah," I replied, writing out the name tag on the gift that I had just completed wrapping.
"You s-sure?" she replied, as though she didn't believe me. She knew me almost as well as my mother did, but when it came to these things, she could tell that I was lying right away. Unlike my mother, who I was able to fool for months on end about the things that I am going through.
As she stumbles with her words (caused by her first stroke years ago), I wonder why I have to lie to her. I know that she will be there for me through anything. But still, I knew she wouldn't understand. I felt that nobody could.
"Yeah, I'm sure," I answered, calmly, lying through my teeth.
We continue on like this, until the topic of discussion landed on my mother's older brother, Steve, who had killed himself the year that my mother was to graduate High School.
"I don't think that I ever could go through that again," she said. "I wish he would have just talked to me. I might have not understood, but I would have listened and gotten him the help that he needed."
That was the second that I knew I couldn't kill myself. My grandmother wants me to be here. Even though she didn't know what was going on with me, I knew that she said that for a reason.
I wish that I could say that what happened next was that I told her everything, but sadly, that isn't the case. I continued to keep my pain a secret for months, but not trying anything to kill myself.
I couldn't do that to my grandmother. I love her more than anything in this world, and I didn't want to purposely put her through any pain.
Eventually my mother found out, and I am currently in counseling. But whenever I wanna kill myself, I think back to those words that my grandmother said that one December night.
As I sit next to her in the hospital, I knew that she would have to get better. Because I didn't think that I could go through that pain. Because loosing her would only make me even more depressed.
The doctor comes in and says that she will be fine, as long as she follows a diet and cuts back on the amount of sodium that she consumes. So far, she is doing better, but she still eats way more sodium than the doctor recommends.
Even though she has made a remarkable recovery, she still needs a lot of work. And so do I. Together, I know that we can get through anything.
What I learned through all these events is that someone out there will always care about you. Weather it's a sibling, parent, aunt, uncle, or grandparent, someone will always be there to care about you and make sure that you're doing okay in life. For me, this person is my grandmother. Knowing that she was there for me and said those words, is probably the reason why I'm alive today.
- Current Mood: depressed
- Current Music:House M.D.