This is the hardest thing I have ever written. Don’t blame yourself, you’ll never know how deeply sorry I am. I cannot explain the deep sadness that aches through my heart every hour of every day. I can’t sleep, eat and it hurts to breathe. There’s no point of living if it’s not the life I want to live. I am sorry it has come to this. When I moved to America to go to Yale, I thought it was going to be the best thing that happened to me, however I was completely and utterly wrong. It’s Macy’s fault, consistently teasing me, it progressively got worse. I’m surrounded by it. I know it’s her posting anonymous comments about me. I’m sorry I lied to you but how could I tell you the truth when you spent your life saving for me to go to college. So, what other option do I have? You’ve been the best, mum. This is nobody else’s fault but Macy’s. My only worry is that once I’m gone she will target somebody else. I wouldn’t wish my pain on my worst enemy, even Macy.
I’m sorry. Goodbye, mum.
I love you,
Sobbing at my desk, I stick the stamp on the letter and send my letter home to Ireland. Walking back in to my dorm room with each step my heart gets heavier. The tablets, lined up one by one along with my glass of water, My breath is heavy. I don’t want to go but I know I have no other choice. I pick the first tablet, I can’t stay still, my hand vigorously shaking, I place it on my tongue and take a sip of water. Another one, again and again. I lie down until the world fades, till peace. Beaming lights disturbs me. Voices mumble in my ears. Opening my eyes I see panicked people. My mother, screaming whilst dragged away. “ You need to leave; we are doing everything to help her”.
Fear bubbles up inside me, I want my mum. I want to hug her because It’s all coming back to me. Everything hurts, I want to cry but nothing comes out. I can’t believe I’m here. Awakening I feel the warmth of my mother’s hand on mine. I feel guilt seeing her cry. “You’re back, you’re back. Don’t ever do that to me again” her voice shakes. “I’m sorry” is all I can get out with my croaked voice.” Somebody found you on the floor and called 911” my mother said thankfully. Arriving home to Ireland a few days later, to stay home so mum could take care of me. We walked through the door and I’m immediately comforted by the smell that is all too familiar to me, home. Mum is clearing up the built up mail and I see a familiar envelope. Trying to take it from her she opens it. With tears rolling down her face she asked: “Why didn’t you come to me?” I know she’s right. I need help.
My mum started talking “I hope you know realise Sierra that in that crazy moment you made a permanent solution to a temporary problem. We will get through this”.
Suicide is never the answer.
By Ciara McGuinness