I will start off just by saying that I know there are some people that will ask me “ Why do you do this to yourself ?” in reference to talking to and writing about people that are dealing with tough times . True . I may feel what the person is feeling but I am not the type to turn a blind eye or deaf ear to someone crying out for someone to listen to them . I am not as delicate as some may think . Yes ; Okay I cried when I heard him telling me his life story so far, and he is only twenty years old . I may very well cry again writing it all down. He wants his story told. He wants and needs to be understood as do countless others who are dealing with depression or other issues. Much like myself ; the people who he thought were friends turned their backs on him at his lowest; when in fact that is when true friends are around. This is his story . I asked him “What do you want me to call your story ?” He replied “Call it An Autobiography?”
“I’m in kind of a sad mood” he started off talking “ where i have really low self esteem, and i feel like everything is my fault “
Man ! Did we have a lot in common. We got into deep discussions of our pasts and what we hoped for . We were comfortable and he really opened up to me. I am not a social worker at all but life experience was what he wanted to hear ; from someone who had experienced some of what he had . “i make jokes of things if I’m really stressing about them because i used to be a cutter “ he said in a straight forward manner . “so was i “ I replied .
“i was in the psych ward for like close to a year dude “ he answered
I asked him if he could call me Joe rather than “dude “ He responded “I call everyone dude because eventually they all leave me anyway so there is no use in me using names “
He has since stopped cutting himself now for about three months. There was a lot of parallels between him and myself.
He added “when i turned 18 i checked myself out and went to school and started wearing tons of bracelets to cover up the cuts and scars “ I told him I wore long sleeve shirts and wouldn’t take my shirt off because there were a few times I would cut my chest around my heart thinking at that moment it would stop the pain .
I asked him what made him cut. We weren’t comparing stories for bragging rights . We were just open with each other because we cared enough about each other to ask . “was it because you didn’t feel loved ? “ I asked . His response was “ i wasn’t….and i had 3 Fs in school at that time and i had to pay 105 dollars for my first speeding ticket and i broke my parents computer by accident all they talked about was how stupid i was how bad i was at driving how reckless i was and then they made me leave when i was 16 thats when i started cutting “
I knew he was upset talking about this and I asked if he was okay with talking about it . “Yeah dude I am fine- You listen , that’s what I needed then -just someone to listen too “ Maybe I was taking on too much good just listening to him . Maybe not. “ I wanna talk to you dude . Some of this I gotta say to get it off my chest “
He continued on “ then another time at a family party my mom noticed my cuts and she made a scene making sure everyone knew and there were at least 35 people there “ I never said it to him but why would his own mother humiliate her son when maybe; just maybe she had listened ; he may have never reached the spot he was in .
“Hey Dude did i tell you that they didnt let me play guitar in the ward because of the strings “
This guy now lives dreams and plays the guitar . One of the things he loves to do most ‘ he couldn’t for fear he would cut himself or hang himself with the strings.
“thats why i learned to play piano and I don’t like piano . I like playing guitar . so i didnt talk to anyone the whole time i was there. I was like legitimately silent. I just played piano.Totes“ Totes as I now know means Totally .
He wanted to talk so I let him. I knew how important it was fro me to talk things through and allow me my own time to talk about it and take a break from talking and allowing me to cry .
“ i cut a couple times after i came out because all my friends decided to hate me and people always tried to fight me “
We talked about what true friends are and he agreed that what he thought were friends at the time weren’t real friends .
“people were friends with me when they need something “ he said “I have only 2 real friends “
I told him that I have very few friends and that I thought it wasn’t important how many friends he had but how good of friends they are.
He told me that he likes to write things down too . “ I have already written a really good short novel about this whole thing though but lost it “ i always write then throw them into the garbage the next day “
I was flabbergasted that he would write and throw it all away . I told him “ dont throw away your writing-thats your heart and soul “
“ no it’s not,it’s mindless dribble from the middle of the night when i cant sleep “ he replied
I responded “ if it were mindless you wouldnt have had the thoughts “ and then quickly added “ the purest and truest form of art comes from life experiences “
“I guess maybe you are sorta kinda right on that dude . I write my songs and they are pretty good “
I know how great of a writer he is . A few nights ago he sent me a copy of a song he had written and this poem which may not make sense to everyone .It was to be his suicide note, thankfully he did not go through with it. I would have missed out on meeting a great person and others would have too . Sometimes those who have been down can read more into things . He asked me not to explain it to you and then he reminded me ; the purest and truest form of art comes from life experiences .
I walk toward you.
You look at me,
But you don’t see me.
I speak with you.
You hear me,
But you don’t listen.
I can try to explain myself,
But I know you’ll never understand.
You control my every move and more
So take your medication !
So you don’t
Die on me tonight
And I’ll
Slowly kill you too
And I
Can’t take my
Loneliness
While I am losing sense of direction
And I’ll plan
Around you
While you contemplate
Our deaths
And Ill
stop hurting myself
if you hurt me more
Fuck you
And your timeliness
and you cant leave me here
stop
it makes like
no sense
I refer to my friend as “he” and he shall remain “he” He is doing okay and is enjoying doing his music and his other loves.
The point I was trying to make with this is simple . If you are someones true friend be there . If someone is down and doesn’t have friends -be that friend but be there . Good times and Bad times , Be there
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