May 9th, 2013. The day I almost convinced myself I wasn’t good enough for life. I remember it being roughly around nine at night, and my mom and her boyfriend were arguing yet again. Except this was one of the more intense ones. I heard screaming and door slamming back and forth. I just sat there and thought to myself
“I can’t take this anymore.”

Next thing I know I was jumping up from my king sized bed launching myself across my room and grabbing the first thing I seen on my dresser. I’m pretty sure it was a bottle of lotion. I chucked it at my wall, in frustration. But the yells in the hallway just grew louder as if my throwing things interrupted their thought process, funny right? My skin started to slowly boil and I needed another object to chuck at my white wall. In the heat of the moment I picked up the next object closest to me and wailed it at my wall. Then SMACK.

I look down at my feet to see the object I threw was a glass jar. Next thing I know the hallway went quiet, not long enough for someone to find the right mind to check on the broken thirteen year old girl who has had enough. I look down again and all the pieces are just surrounding me and mocking me. Tears now rolling down my face, I start searching through the pile to find the sharpest piece of glass, && without hesitation let it cruise across my wrist.
“What’s going on? I can’t feel anything!” I thought to myself.

My outlet, the thing that reassured me I was still alive and here failed to do its job. I start to question my existence and if I would be better off gone. I start thinking of all the people who would be better off without me. Before I could even finish my thoughts, my emotions took over and I walked to my door swung it open and started speed walking through my living room, past kitchen, and into the bathroom. I’m now rummaging through all the cabinets grabbing every pill bottle I could find, mixing and putting them in one big bottle.

  I look up at the mirror and just laugh.

“Wow, I’m really a joke, my life is a joke.”

“But it’s okay, I’ll get the last laugh”

I rush back in my room, with the bottle tucked under my shirt so I won’t get caught, but then realize it wouldn’t have mattered if I taped them across my face and wore a sign that said “On the verge, very breakable,” because when I walked past that argument in the hallway I might have just been invisible. I guess you can say that was the final straw. I closed my door, sat on the edge of my bed, and broke down. I grabbed my phone and started texting my goodbyes. When people realized what I meant I got a bunch of texts and a few phone calls, but I turned off my phone then took the battery out and threw it so I wasn’t tempted to fall into the trap of people to pretend to “care” about me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and just kept praying

“God, I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough, Please forgive me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

I opened my eyes and could barely see because of how many tears were coming out, I then looked up at my dresser and seen a small, but familiar picture. I stood up, walked towards it, grabbed it, and then sat back down. It was a Halloween picture of my younger sisters and I. I started to think how horrible I would be if I were to just leave them on my own will. The person they look up to. How many questions they would have, how confusing it would be for a four and six year old to have to wrap their head around something so terrible. Their older sister was there just last weekend having a big sleepover and now she’s not here. In that moment, I knew God was telling me something. I wiped my tears, and walked back to the bathroom, I flushed the whole bottle of pills down the toilet. I cleaned up the glass, and I made a decision that the next day I would go to school and reach out for help.

Although my topic wasn’t the happiest memory, it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite because one of the strongest things I feel you can do is deciding to live when all you want is to die. It means you weren’t ready to give up and you fought hard for the life given to you. It also reminds me of how far I came as a person, and to make sure I never let myself or anyone around me to ever get to that point. And back then it wasn’t easy finding someone to trust or going to get help. I thought I could just deal with it, but it became too much and I had to realize whether I seen it at that point or not I still had people who weren’t ready to lose me. I just had to realize I wasn’t ready to lose me either. I didn’t have the best self-esteem and barely any confidence in myself, but I learned a lot from that night. And now, I’m pushing myself to do well. I have confidence, I believe in myself, and I know if I really want something out of this life I have no choice but to fight for it. And even though a painful experience, I wouldn’t take it back, it made me see the good in life, and value the moments and time spent here. It’s also a huge part of who I am today. I am a better person, and sometimes you have to stand in the pouring rain before you can get a glance of that rainbow. You just having to be willing to stick it out long enough to see it.