Have you ever cried for someone at a funeral? You knew that you cried only for yourself...Because they were better off?...But what if you knew that they weren't? What if...They died in misery, thinking that nobody cared? Untill you have cried for someone at a funeral...Who had been a victim of suicide...You don't know what grief is.
To be the one left behind is so much harder than wanting to leave. I know. I've been on both sides of the spectrum. It's hard to think that it's been two years now...Since I started slowly coming out of my depression. I still can't believe that I dug myself out of a hole so deep. And it's still hard when I look down at my arms to think that those scars...Were inflicted by me. It's hard to believe it...Through all the lies I've told...
"They were from the horses"... "I dropped my razor in the shower." Oh yes...I know the excuses all too well...It made me a good lier...But I don't need to lie anymore.
When I finally came out...It was because of one person. And once they lifted me out of my hole...Just enough so I could peer out and see that people loved me... I started clawing my way out on my own...Because I was the only one that could save me. They knew that all they could do was show me...I would have to do the rest myself.
About a month ago I got word that my cousin had died. At that point I didn't know any details. He, because of his mothers wishes (his mother hated us) had seperated himself from his fathers side of the family (us). I had been very close to my cousin when I was small...And I could not belive my ears...He was DEAD!?
A week later I was to hear the news. My cousin, who had been so important to me in my young years had committed suicide! He had shot himself in the head with a 22 gauge rifle. Only, he had shot the gun at an angle, taking off half of his face and leaving him to bleed to death for two hours. At first I was angry at him.
"Why did he leave?! He didn't even say goodbye! I loved him!"
Then I angry at his family for not knowing.
"You saw him everyday and you didn't know? How could you! You could have done something!"
But then...After all that anger...My cousin, his sister brought over pictures. Looking at his smiling face...A face that I barely knew... I knew the boy he was...But not the man he'd become...My anger melted...And without that protecting my emotions...I broke. I ran outside holding back my tears... The last thing that his sister needed was for me, the strong one in the family to break down in front of her.
I couldn't go to the funeral...The funeral of a suicide is probably the saddest place you'll ever be. Everyone wishing they would have known...Beliving they could have done something...Angry at him...Angry at themselves...Lord knows I was angry at me...
I remember that night I called the one who dug me out of my depression...They picked up the phone...And I cried my eyes out. Those were the first bitter tears I had cried in almost three years. They talked to me and calmed my fears as well as they could...I had always thought I would be the one in that coffin...Staring coldly at the sky...
My pain is slowly ebbing...But it's still there. His sisters won't leave their houses alone...And lock their doors even when they aren't alone. They cry constantly and are afraid constantly. His three neices and his unborn nephew will never know him. I sit here letting out my emotions into poems and songs...And a rant...This one...Knowing that tears...Or words...Or writing will never bring him back...
I can just hope that he understands...Wherever he is...That we all loved him...And hope that those who have never experianced what I have...Never have to...And that all those who want to...don't decide to leave the ones they love behind.