Over the past few days, I’ve been reading this book called, “Thirteen Reasons Why,” by Jay Asher. This book deals with a boy named Clay Jensen who recently finds a shoe box on his front doorstep. Inside the shoe box are seven cassette tapes. Thirteen sides. Recorded on these very tapes are the last words of the late Hannah Baker.
Hannah Baker, the girl Clay Jensen had the chance to save, but didn’t. And it killed him, listening to these tapes. So, why have I decided to post a note like this here on Facebook, here, where everyone else can see? Simple. Because now more than ever, I know for a fact, I will never commit suicide. Sure, I’ve thought about it. Everybody thinks about it. Then again, who thinks about how that could and will affect your loved ones? See, Hannah Baker speaks of 12 classmates who take time to make her life seem more miserable than it should. And she lets it get to her. I know there are numerous times when someone’s words do hurt you and you feel abandoned and alone.
But without reaching out, that’s all you’ll ever be….alone. I never want to be alone. Feeling alone is the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Having no one to talk to. To let out what keeps building up inside. It hurts. A lot more than it ever should. In the book, Hannah says she tried reaching out by attending this poetry club. One problem: all the poets talk of nothing but death and anger and hatred. Not a poetry club I’d want to belong to. One of the ways I let words out when no one cares to listen is by poetry. In case no one knows: my poetry book is almost completely filled.
Anyways, I can relate to Hannah. Except I do care about what I think of myself more than I care of what others may think. For instance, if I know there’s a rumor going around about me that ain’t true, well those dumb enough to believe it aren’t really my friend. If they were really my friend, they’d be asking me about it. And I’d tell them the truth. Hannah, on the other hand, led herself to believe the rumors. She believed she wasn’t worth anything. In the end, she gave up on herself. I’d never do that. I think most times when we fall into that dreaded hole of self-pity and doubt, we forget the obvious. When Hannah decided to take her own life, all she thought about was how everybody treated her.
How if she was gone, they’d have nobody to pick on. She claims nobody talked to her when was alive, how would her being gone for real possibly change? Well, the answer is: more than you think.
We forget those who do care about us, those who’d cry for years after attending our funeral.
Those who’d keep repeating their last moments with us in their heads, wondering what the hell they did wrong. Dragging themselves into depression just to understand why someone so lively would even consider taking themselves out of this world before they even got to live it. Every time I think about it, I see thousands of faces. Faces that have tears falling from their eyes.
My worst nightmare.
See, when my brother died of cancer, he didn’t decide to take his life. He was upset he didn’t get to live it to the fullest. But he never once gave up. And I know he’d kill me for even thinking of such a thing. But I saw how many people, loved ones, cried (including myself) at his funeral.
So, no matter how many times you tell yourself, “no one cares about me, what am I still doing here?” I’m telling you to think again. There is ALWAYS someone who cares and loves you even when you don’t believe it. And they would be hurt more than you could even imagine if you take your life away.
Again, I will say that I will never purposely take my own life. I care far too much about certain people to even think of how they’d react. I love myself too much to be torn down by some idiot’s hurtful words. For a happy note to this depressing one:
I love all my friends and family; without you I’d be lost.
Amanda B Hansen