The Suicidal Times
NOTE: I’m talking about the past, not the present.
A few weeks into 11th grade, I began saying "Nothing has been going right since the day I started 10th grade." In 9th grade, I had gotten straight A’s and much free time. I was also still too naive and simple to realize some upsetting things. However, as summer vacation progressed, I began to worry that I was often upsetting people and making everyone hate me.
People, especially my family, saying "So and so must be talking behind your back right now," "So and so have probably said many bad things about you," "They must be thinking badly about you," and "You do this and that so everyone hates you" strengthened my fear.
I also began discovering indirect attacks and mind games, and found evidence of them among classmates in 10th grade. As if that weren’t bad enough, right in the first quarter, I lost my straight A’s, and we went over Darwin’s theory of natural selection in more detail than before. I figured that since I am not physically strong and am very resistant to change, I will not have a chance to survive.
Later, a few more things didn’t work out, and my straight A’s remained lost. Tenth grade had laid the groundwork for my reactions and decisions in 11th grade. Though my sophomore year in high school had a happy ending, the summer and my junior year weren’t better as I had expected.
The whole junior year, I did almost nothing but homework. My grades continued to drop, and by the end of the first semester, I got my first C in several years, and it wasn’t my last either. That really upset me, making me feel that I was being improper and irresponsible, only pretending to study.
Complaints from the past began to ring through my head, such as “No one is as stupid as you!” “So and so will do better than you!” “You are irresponsible and don’t pay attention!” and “Everyone gets good grades! Only you get bad grades!” Recalling those comments and seeing my younger brother always getting straight A’s while I didn’t at his age only made me feel worse.
Classmates, and even teachers, also continued to act upset at me, play mind games, and be cliquey. The constant feeling of rejection increased my fear of being a bad person, and the comments regarding my behavior and people’s opinions towards me raced through my head as well.
With all that, after the third quarter of eleventh grade, I began saying to classmates, "I’m going to fire a bullet in my head, or do something as destructive as that" to cheer them up.
When people said, "No, don’t do it!" I assumed that they were just being "polite" and pretending to be "nice," but actually were saying, "Yeah! Yeah! Do it! Do it! We don’t want you around!"
My 18th birthday was also only a few months away, and I had not wanted to grow up because it would result in many responsibilities and stereotypes. Knowing that I couldn’t avoid growing up only made me hate it more, and hearing the words childish and immature increased my desire for death. I was willing to exchange my life for not becoming an adult. Besides, I figured, "Why struggle to live if I was going to get wiped out by natural selection?" Furthermore, we’ve been having major overpopulation in the world for years, so I might as well give my life spot to someone who will have a chance to survive.
The time of advanced placement (AP) tests was a big trigger for my decision. Seeing how everyone knew so much material for the tests while I knew nothing made me feel like an irresponsible idiot, and snobs didn’t help. The way I was doing things were also different from the majority, so I felt I was always doing the wrong things and not being a proper student.
News about my first D was the final straw. It confirmed my irresponsibility and pretending to study, so I was very adamant on "firing a bullet in my hear or doing something as destructive as that" after the school year ended. People acting upset and playing mind games only made things worse. There were even bullies and arrogant people putting me down further.
One day, a smart alec kept saying, "You always try to find ways to annoy people and cause trouble, so teachers hate you!" By late May of my junior year, every complaint I received or mistake I made drew me closer to the decision.
I was never good at verbal communication, so I wrote my problems on paper and showed it to people. One day I gave it to someone at the beginning of class, and said, "You can keep it…" The bell interrupted so I didn’t get to say "…till the end of class." By the end, I had forgotten about the paper, which meant I forgot to ask for it back. The last day of school, my parents received a phone call about it. Someone had turned in that forgotten paper, and my teachers had found out that I "was going to fire a bullet in my head or do something as destructive as that," so they were calling a meeting with my parents who saw it as one of my writing styles, and didn’t think I was serious. I managed to keep it that way with them to avoid negative comments and trouble. Other issues were also brought up at the meeting, including some things about me that were not true.
Afterwards, I decided to continue with life, and some of the lies and complaints from and after the meeting were like a wake up call. I realized that the majority isn’t always right, and that I should always remember my reasons for my opinions, speak up, and not expect too much. At first, I thought straightforwardly that my teachers probably didn’t want to lose me, but as time passed, I began to suspect they probably did it to "look good" and avoid responsibility.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last time I became suicidal. As I moved into my dorm room for my junior year in college, a funny sixth sense told me that the school year would suck, and sure enough, though I gave it chances to improve. Most of my friends and acquaintances had moved out of the dorms. Missing them, I hoped to meet new people and make new friends, but most of the residents that year we
re improper. The way they walked and talked showed that they were clowns. Even worse, I had lost much interest in things.
I was hoping to get back in touch with my old friends and more proper people on campus, but most of the people whom I thought were friends ignored or acted upset at me. They were cliquey and didn’t seem to appreciate my presence so I had the constant feeling of rejection, and past complaints ran through my brain again. During the time in college, I faced quite a few rude, degrading, and unfair professors and staff members, and some of their insults joined those past ones.
Classes were also harder and busier, and I got my first F by the end of Fall Quarter, which put me on academic probation. That devastating experience once again made me think I was irresponsible and only pretending to study despite never missing classes and spending hours in the study lounge, library, and office hours.
My brother continued to get straight A’s, and seemed to always gain praises, rewards, and good opinions from others, especially at school, while I seemed to be looked down upon, not liked, and hated. With my family, I also felt that that I was always in someone’s shadow since I wasn’t good at anything while everyone in my family is good in at least one thing. I once again thought I was always doing things wrong, and not being a proper student, so I thought I wasn’t qualified to live and began planning on death documents, which would consist of my death will and statement of responsibility to inform and assure others that my death was my fault only, and not anyone else’s.
My grades did not improve Winter Quarter, and the weather was bad, often cold, cloudy, and raining. Though the bad weather wasn’t a reason for becoming suicidal, it was a catalyst by making things worse.
I had been exposed to more details of natural selection, so I thought, "Why struggle to live if I don’t have a chance to survive? Why continue with life when I know I’ll eventually be wiped out by natural selection?" I was still not physically strong and very resistant to change.
At the same time, I felt caught in the middle of nowhere without a direction, and that nothing was worth it. I also asked, "If life is not being fair with me, why should I be a part of it?" I might as well help reduce the overflowing population by giving up my spot in the world to someone who is a beneficial to others, qualified to live, and would not get wiped out by natural selection.
As Winter Quarter drew to a close, I told people, especially when they played mind games and acted upset at me, that I was going to work on my death documents over Spring Break, then return to school early to shoot myself.
Though they kept saying not to do it, I once again doubted that they really meant it, and were actually saying in their minds or behind my back, "Yeah! Yeah! Do it! Do it! We don’t want you around!" Every complaint or mistake made me more adamant for death, and during finals week, people were really acting upset at me and giving me the constant feeling of rejection. My grades were also suffering, and all those negative comments from the past and present were often racing through my head.
Right after my last final on March 27, 1998, the professor falsely accused me of plagiarism on my paper, so my course grade would be incomplete until I rewrote it and turned it in again. As first, I was upset, thinking, "First, you won’t let me pass my classes, and now you won’t even let me die." I had to have everything finished before death, and didn’t want to leave behind responsibility for others. That was why I had been waiting until Spring Break, when I had more things completed, to work on the death documents. Now that I had another unfinished task, death would have to wait.
With that, instead of death documents, I worked on my paper during the break. By the time I returned to school I had decided to continue with life, and Spring Quarter was better despite losing all my trust in people. The incomplete also saved me from another quarter of probation, so most of it worked out well. My grades also improved after I changed my major, and I used the summer to catch up on the requirements. At the same time, I learned again not to expect too much, and that grades and many other things, especially those beyond our control, are not worth taking my life over. A year after the complaints on my paper, I graduated from college.
I realized that both times I planned on suicide, something happened to foil my plans. I then recalled friends saying, "If it’s not time for you to die, God won’t let you die," and their words were proven correct. My forgetting about the paper and the false accusation of plagiarism were God’s interventions because it was not time for my death. The problem with the paper was also part of God’s plan to lead me into the right major.
After those experiences, I gained interest in suicide prevention, and didn’t became suicidal again though I still think I’m a bad person who always does things wrong, and wish I were never born. Sometimes, when things become intolerable, especially physically, I would wish I to be dead, but then remember God and all those who helped me. Since then, I also understood suicidal people’s feelings and needs more, and that they are not all crazy or selfish. It depends on their reasons for suicide. For example, if they would like to kill themselves because of boredom, then they would be selfish. However, if they are suicidal because they think they are a burden and trouble to others, then they are not being selfish. Instead, they need support and compliments, which means minimizing complaints and continuously pointing out their strengths.
NOTE: I wrote this entry because it’s been a decade since the day I was told that I was getting an incomplete, which eventually led me to change my mind and continue with life.