Suicide

Before I jump into any new stories while being in the US, something did happen while I was in 9th grade. Sorry for the late post about this. With the storm and blizzard over the Northeast, it’s been hard to get connectivity and I was slammed with work. And I was also making excuse for this particular post because I guess I’m afraid of it. Well…. too long over due…. I’ll get right into it.

It happened after when my ex boyfriend K and my ex close friend C got together and cheated behind my back. I wasn’t so depressed about the breakup, but I wasn’t doing so well in school.

As many of you have already know, I haven’t really touched upon the topic about homework, education, and or my classes and projects. But school over there is wicked hard af.
School was unbearable.
I was feeling negative feelings with school when I got to 9th grade. In 9th grade, what you’re learning is 11 grade stuff. To my surprise when I moved to the US after 9th grade, I’ve already learned everything up until 2nd year of university.
It’s crazy how the education differs between other countries.

So as I mentioned, school was hard. Getting good grades was hard. And once I got to 9th grade, i wasn’t doing so well. Getting Cs and Ds. So my parents weren’t exactly happy with my grades and my report cards.
When living in Vietnam, I was living with my mom and my siblings (big sister, little sister and little brother) and for my dad, he would come every once or twice a year throughout those 3 years of me living there.
So around after winter break, my dad came to Vietnam for Christmas and he was not happy with my grades. He cried and yelled and said I would be a failure if i kept this up. It was a sad day for all of us. We were being lectured and yelled at. I didn’t refuse it or fight back…. it’s because I knew i deserved it and I didn’t work hard enough.

Around this time, I felt numbed out. I wouldn’t say I was depressed because of my parents but because I made them unhappy. The worst feeling is to come see your family in Vietnam knowing your kids are getting crap grades when you sent them there for a better life and to learn and be smart. I felt ashamed to put my parents in tears and with so disappointment.

I wouldnt say I planned it all out but I wasn’t feeling so happy. So it may have been almost like an impulse. After school, i asked my friend who lived in this 15 floor condo if I can go to the roof to chill, so she gave me access to her condo. Once you’re in, you’re in.
I got in and went to the roof. The roof can only be access by like security or personnel of the building; but the door wasn’t lock. It never is. Lucky me.

I went up there sitting and looking up at the blue skies and looked at the white clouds floating by with no care in the world. I wanted to be the clouds in the sky also.
I’m extremely and deathly afraid of heights but at the moment in time, all i wanted was the pain to go away. Thoughts went through my head like… “I wish i never dated this guy”, “why did she bully me?”, “why am I so stupid that I can’t get good grades?”, “mom and dad and all my siblings are better off without me”.

I jumped.

With my eyes closed…

Suddenly when falling for a few seconds, I felt so free and happy. But I was also scared and the falling felt like forever. But i suddenly felt my body slow down, my uniform slowly losing air and they were not flying and then my body slammed on a slab of concrete.

I was in a lot of pain and I looked up. I jumped from the 16th floor (the roof was the extra flight of stairs from the 15th floor) an landed on this weird big piece of concrete sticking out of the building on the 14th/15th floor. I mean it hurt, falling for a foot to 2. But, the only think i thought about was jump and let go.

“What a weird building”, I thought.

And I started to laugh so hard, no tears but I was laughing because my attempt to die was so laughable.

I’m not a religious person but the thing I remember saying was, “maybe God is telling me I should live and that I will do greatness in life”.

Or that I was stupid to have jumped and not look down before jumping.

After laughing and laying down there because all my body hurts, I managed to climb back up to the 16th floor and locked the door, and went out and took my bike from my school and went home without saying a word to anyone.
The next day was a weekend and I spent it with my family like normal and went to school.

Not long after, I moved back to the US to start 10th grade.

 

Here Effect

Have you ever felt like you’re here but you’re really not here?

Like when you go to a classroom and sitting down and start spacing out on whatever the hell your teacher is probably teaching or lecturing the class and you’re just staring straight into space. That’s me… Most of the time at least.

I call this the “Here Effect”. For me, it’s a little bit complicated than just going to school and not paying attention. It’s more like, I tried killing myself or thinking or wanting to kill myself and conclude to doing it… but not succeeding. With no success, I continue to live my life after many years passed and I still wonder about if I wasn’t really here, would I be happier? The emptiness inside of me builds even with all the happy times that has gave me so much love and affection… Depression and suicide is now a part of me.

The biggest attempt of me trying to end it all is when I jumped off a 13 floor condo that my friend generously let me in to go to the roof (not knowing my plans). I jumped and hit on the 12th floor siding of the building and at the time I thought, “I guess God is giving me a 2nd chance in life”. But now when I think about it, I’m thinking, “What a weirdly shape building.”

Over the years, I’ve strive to be the best I can be after that situation. But then high school  came and brought me back to the edge of a building or more like… the balcony of my bedroom. I thought millions of times where this will hurt and that it won’t kill me and will only disable me. So I did not attempt. I did, however, cut. I cut and stabbed and the pain didn’t go away. But it made me think how selfish am I to try to hurt or kill myself under the roof of where my baby siblings lived and where my parents work so tirelessly to build.

I seeked for help.

But it didn’t work.