My own experieces with...death, suicide...
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The above link is to an article by another JUser...his article inspired me to write about my own experience with death, suicide, and the macabre.
The first close death I experiencedwas my granpda Leon. While he wasn't blood related, he was the closest thing i had to a grandfather-being that my 'blood' grandfather had died in the 70s. I remember the times he would come over to our trailer (we were living with my aunt, on her land.), he would ask "where's that young boy?". *smiles* We would go and walk, my small hand in his. We would eat apples from a tree near the river. We would just, be with each other. It was hard when he died. I eventually, after a few years (and the fact that i was very young then - 4-5 years)...put his death in its place. Remembering, but not forgetting. Learning from it.
The next death came at a complete shock. It was during elementary school, fourth grade i believe. The victim, my best friend, Jerel. He was killed in a car crash on the way up here, after having gone on vacation. He was the only fatality. He was buckled in-but had been thrown out of the car, towards the front. Unfortunately it was when the car was tumbling down a hill, and he was crushed. Again, I was shocked. No-that's an understatement. He was like a brother to me. We both were going to stick together...and go off to college together. *sighs* It was with his death that i fell into a deep depression, and attempted suicide. I was nearly succesful on a few occasons--my mum caught me with the rope about to go around my neck, my hands around my neck...and other things/times. I was distraught--but foolish. If it wasn't for my mother, i wouldn't be here.
The next death, coming when i was in the 6th grade-was my grandmother. She had gotten up to go to her art shop. Alas, she had a stroke. My cousin Tawnia was the one who found her slumped over. I was in school at the time, and was picked up and my mum, sis and I hurried over to the hospital. She had experienced a left (i believe) brain stroke. The doctors said that she would, *if* she survived, be nothing more than a "vegetable". My gran would NEVER allow that. She had lived with polio for nearly 70 years (diagnosed when she was 8, died at age 77.). My mum new that, and yet- she didn't want to lose her mum. It took two days, and...she was gone. I was down in the waiting room area at the hospital entrance. I KNEW when she died...it was like something had exploded in my head--and so i ran up to her room...passing one of my cousins along the way--it was confirmed, she was gone. It sucked. We had here wake a week or so later. It was then that i wrote a poem for her, to read at it. *shakes head* I wasn't able to. I broke down crying before i finished the first sentence.
The next death came completely out of left field. I had a crush on this girl, and we had been friends for years. She was one of those rough and tumble types, able to be both elegant, and 'dirty'. She was a kick in the butt. Alas--she comitted suicide.
The next death came during my freshman year of high school. The person that had died, i knew only through football. Still, our team had a bond of brotherhood. We watched out for each other. He was hospitalized after he and a friend of his were messing around with a gun, and it discharged. It was a week later-and he was gone. The team was shaken...
The next death was tough. The victim...wasn't human. It was my dog. Her name was Missie, and she was part red heeler, part something else (i was told dingo..but...). My first step father Dennis had found her on a highway when he was trucking. In about `84-`85. She and I were inseperable. She would sleep at my bed. Oy, she was protective. My mum once was playing around with my niece, pretending to be a bear-as my niece was pretending to camp. My mum growled, and Missie-with her short legs came barking-growling-and bearing her teeth. It was the first, and only time i ever remember my mum backing down. (My mum is tough...) I laughed my butt off. She also *loved* to play fetch. It was around November of '01 when she (missie) started to get sick, and started to tilt to the right. We took her to the vet...and the vet said that she was just getting old (was 16-17 when she died). We ended up having to put her to sleep. I bawled... She was the best. God it was tough.
I've personally been in a depression, in which i have contemplated, and even attempted suicide. Depression is horrible-nay- it is an abominatoin. It didn't help with what i was going through at the time. My sis had ran off after a fight with my mum...literally, my sis tried to push her down some stairs... The world sucked at the time. Thankfully...I made it through.
Though I am not an actively 'faith' driven person...(i do believe in a being). I thank God for not being succesful in my attempts. I thank God for the people i have met. For the experiences, friendships, everything. To be able to....move onward and upward.
Peace out~
~ Lucas
The above link is to an article by another JUser...his article inspired me to write about my own experience with death, suicide, and the macabre.
The first close death I experiencedwas my granpda Leon. While he wasn't blood related, he was the closest thing i had to a grandfather-being that my 'blood' grandfather had died in the 70s. I remember the times he would come over to our trailer (we were living with my aunt, on her land.), he would ask "where's that young boy?". *smiles* We would go and walk, my small hand in his. We would eat apples from a tree near the river. We would just, be with each other. It was hard when he died. I eventually, after a few years (and the fact that i was very young then - 4-5 years)...put his death in its place. Remembering, but not forgetting. Learning from it.
The next death came at a complete shock. It was during elementary school, fourth grade i believe. The victim, my best friend, Jerel. He was killed in a car crash on the way up here, after having gone on vacation. He was the only fatality. He was buckled in-but had been thrown out of the car, towards the front. Unfortunately it was when the car was tumbling down a hill, and he was crushed. Again, I was shocked. No-that's an understatement. He was like a brother to me. We both were going to stick together...and go off to college together. *sighs* It was with his death that i fell into a deep depression, and attempted suicide. I was nearly succesful on a few occasons--my mum caught me with the rope about to go around my neck, my hands around my neck...and other things/times. I was distraught--but foolish. If it wasn't for my mother, i wouldn't be here.
The next death, coming when i was in the 6th grade-was my grandmother. She had gotten up to go to her art shop. Alas, she had a stroke. My cousin Tawnia was the one who found her slumped over. I was in school at the time, and was picked up and my mum, sis and I hurried over to the hospital. She had experienced a left (i believe) brain stroke. The doctors said that she would, *if* she survived, be nothing more than a "vegetable". My gran would NEVER allow that. She had lived with polio for nearly 70 years (diagnosed when she was 8, died at age 77.). My mum new that, and yet- she didn't want to lose her mum. It took two days, and...she was gone. I was down in the waiting room area at the hospital entrance. I KNEW when she died...it was like something had exploded in my head--and so i ran up to her room...passing one of my cousins along the way--it was confirmed, she was gone. It sucked. We had here wake a week or so later. It was then that i wrote a poem for her, to read at it. *shakes head* I wasn't able to. I broke down crying before i finished the first sentence.
The next death came completely out of left field. I had a crush on this girl, and we had been friends for years. She was one of those rough and tumble types, able to be both elegant, and 'dirty'. She was a kick in the butt. Alas--she comitted suicide.
The next death came during my freshman year of high school. The person that had died, i knew only through football. Still, our team had a bond of brotherhood. We watched out for each other. He was hospitalized after he and a friend of his were messing around with a gun, and it discharged. It was a week later-and he was gone. The team was shaken...
The next death was tough. The victim...wasn't human. It was my dog. Her name was Missie, and she was part red heeler, part something else (i was told dingo..but...). My first step father Dennis had found her on a highway when he was trucking. In about `84-`85. She and I were inseperable. She would sleep at my bed. Oy, she was protective. My mum once was playing around with my niece, pretending to be a bear-as my niece was pretending to camp. My mum growled, and Missie-with her short legs came barking-growling-and bearing her teeth. It was the first, and only time i ever remember my mum backing down. (My mum is tough...) I laughed my butt off. She also *loved* to play fetch. It was around November of '01 when she (missie) started to get sick, and started to tilt to the right. We took her to the vet...and the vet said that she was just getting old (was 16-17 when she died). We ended up having to put her to sleep. I bawled... She was the best. God it was tough.
I've personally been in a depression, in which i have contemplated, and even attempted suicide. Depression is horrible-nay- it is an abominatoin. It didn't help with what i was going through at the time. My sis had ran off after a fight with my mum...literally, my sis tried to push her down some stairs... The world sucked at the time. Thankfully...I made it through.
Though I am not an actively 'faith' driven person...(i do believe in a being). I thank God for not being succesful in my attempts. I thank God for the people i have met. For the experiences, friendships, everything. To be able to....move onward and upward.
Peace out~
~ Lucas