After my first suicide attempt, I ran away from home and lived on the streets off and on. Unable toaw control my emotions, or understand them, I just did not deal with them, and ran.
My darling parents, were at a loss as well. They loved me, accepted me, but I think, did not know how to deal with me and my emotional behavior.
When I was 18 I returned home. After dealing with yet another suicide attempt, although it was more of a cry for help this time. I took pills once again, the only way I knew how to get away from the controlling boyfriend I had at the time.
I had gone back to school while living with him. He despised this idea, and burnt all of my hard work. This school gave me hope, that I might be smarter than I actually felt, receiving 80's for the first time in my life. But my boyfriend scared me, so I took the pills in the hopes that the doctor's at the hospital would see that I was in danger, and get me the help that I needed.
They did not recognize my fear for him though, so I had to leave on my own, and went back to live with my parents.
It was April 19th, 1993. The day that changed family dynamics forever.
My mother and I were on the couch in the basement. We had just finished watching the Waco Texas massacre on CTV News, and had moved on to the weather, when the phone rang.
You can tell something is wrong with someone's tone of voice. I heard my mother's voice change on the phone.
When she had finished talking to my Aunt, she turned to me and told me what she had just discussed on the phone.
My cousin was dead.
She died by suicide.
It would be a few days before we learned the details of what happened. My dear cousin had taken a shotgun under a bridge, and pulled the trigger, leaving a husband, and three teenage children behind.
I wish I had recognized the signs of her suicide the last time we had seen her. Noticed something that was different about her that would have helped me reach our to her. But, alas, that was not the case.
Most importantly, her death, and her life, was hushed and silenced. No one spoke about her, or the incident.
This is what kills me the most about her death.
That no one speaks of it.
That day,
On April 19th.
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