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This is the first time that a celebrity death has compelled me to say something, but it’s been on my mind for an awfully long time...

Sorry if I seem a bit confused, I’m just trying to figure all of this out. I can’t understand why you did what you did. Chester, I’m not just talking to you. Chris, Robin, Kurt, every last one of you that has ever committed suicide, I’m talking to you. I can’t understand what broke you. What the last straw really was for you. I’ll never be able to know what you were thinking when you decided it was time to go.

You know….I was so sure that I wanted this. I uprooted my entire life because I was so sure I wanted this. You know what? I was wrong. I moved my entire life from one state to another to be with somebody, because I was so very very sure that’s what I wanted. Not just wanting, I needed it. My life was shit. The Epilepsy was back for good, I had to move back in with my family, and of course my parents treated me like trash and of course my siblings didn’t care about me. I never wanted to spend time with any of my friends, because honestly, I started to hate being around them. They all had it better than me. Still do actually. They were going off to college to make something of themselves, and I was just there. I moved because I got tired of saying goodbye to the one person in my life who gave a damn about me. I needed a change, and I took it.

It’s been two years and I’ve realized that was the worst choice of my life. That this has been the biggest mistake of my life. His family isn’t any better. His mother is insane, and they are all slobs. I’m the only one with a driver’s license, and for a while I was the only one with a job. Speaking of which, I’ve been through five jobs since I moved here, because I can’t keep a job here. I’m stuck working minimum wage fast food, because I can’t do better. I can't afford to leave either. I can’t climb out of this hole that I’ve dug myself into, because it’s always raining and the mud won’t dry. I constantly feel like I’m drowning. Like, somebody is coming over to me, pushing me down, and then saying “Oh just get back up” but then immediately pushes me back down while I’m starting to stand. I can’t climb the ladder because all the rails are breaking beneath me. The weight of my world is crushing me between a rock and a hard place. I can’t get back on the horse, because it’s already ran away. I guess what I’m trying to say is, my life is miserable. I hate myself. What I was, what I am, what I probably will be. I hate. I feel like a failure. Honestly, I am one. I could have put myself into lifelong debt to go to college, but I don’t know what I’d go for. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up...more. I could have applied myself more in school, if I’d just tried instead of blaming my lack of trying on the fact that my parents didn’t help me at all. You know what else I could have done? I could have killed myself. But I didn’t. Honestly, I don’t know why I haven’t. The thought has crossed my mind more than once. I remember being around ten years old and wondering what the best way to kill myself with the electrical outlet would be. I remember a few months ago, googling what the most painless and efficient way to kill myself would be. I’m going to be 25 in January and I’ve been depressed for as long as I can remember. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far. I really thought I would have killed myself by now.

I’m sorry this is so long guys, and that it’s not ending here. I just... I don’t think you understand. You can’t. You’re not here to. You don’t get to see the consequences of your actions. Not like we do.

You know, even though I’m not famous, and probably never will be, we have something in common. The Darkness. We welcome our depression like an old friend, because it’s all we know. We find comfort in our pain because it’s the only thing that’s been there for us. It’s the only thing that’s been consistent in our lives.

I’m going to share a secret with you guys, okay? I lost my Grandpa (My Papa) on Christmas day, in 2014. He was the only grandparent I care about (The rest treat me like trash) It was my first Christmas with my boyfriend (Who I moved for). I’d just gotten to his house that Monday, and my dad called me to tell me that Papa wasn’t doing good. That he might not make it to the end of the week, and that they were going to find a way to get me back home.

On Christmas day, We were just coming back from my boyfriend’s aunt’s house. They weren’t able to get the Wi-Fi up and running, and they asked the two of us to help. It took a lot of work, but we did it, and we were so happy, it took us nearly two hours to figure out the problem, but we did it. Then my mom called. Papa had passed away. I spent the car ride home in silence.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Neither did your families.

It still hurts by the way. It still haunts me. Ever since he passed away, my dream world has been nightmares. He’s still there. In my dreams. He’d gotten buried alive somehow, and managed to make it for months, but he still survived. My dreams are incredibly vivid, and I can lucid dream. So you might be able to imagine how much this messes with my head. I only recently just had a dream where my Dad actually admitted my Papa was gone, which didn’t make sense anyway, since he’d be walking around in the room I was in prior, but I digress.

I still can’t listen to the song “Shine” by Collective Soul without crying, and I’ve known that song my entire life. I literally grew up listening to that song.

I still can’t listen to the song “Old Man” by Neil Young because it was played at his Funeral, and I couldn’t cry there. I even broke down at work one day because it came on the radio.

I still can’t listen to “Afire Love” by Ed Sheeran without crying because my mom had to say it reminded her of my Papa, and now that’s all I think about when I hear it.

I bet your families can’t let go either.

You know….Like I said earlier, I’ve often thought about killing myself. I’ve thought about driving my car off that nearby cliff, about taking more than the recommended amount of pills, anything to escape this never ending hell-hole of despair, because it doesn’t get better. They say it does, but it doesn’t. I feel like everybody around me hates me. I’m positive they wouldn’t miss me if I was gone. I want to fake my own death. I feel dead inside most days, and it’s rare for me to smile. I don’t want to be here. Despite the fact I’m truly terrified of death, there are plenty of days where I actively want to die. I’m just tired of being me. I’m tired of being a failure, and a lost cause. I’m tired of being alone.

But yet….I’m still here.

It would be selfish of me to kill myself. He would miss me too much. He wouldn’t be able to love again. He’s told me so. He tells me everyday how much he loves me, even though I don’t want to believe him. I want him to hate me so I can disappear. But he won’t. He’s like a leech, clinging to me, trying desperately to suck out all the sadness and make it go away. He hates being tickled, but let's me because he knows it makes me laugh. He makes stupid faces and makes himself look like an fool in public sometimes just to get me to smile. Also, he likes to hear me sing, and I think I’m terrible at it. But he loves it nonetheless. He is making this entire situation tolerable. He’s the reason I haven’t left. Yes. I hate his family, but I couldn’t leave him. He is my other half. I’m not whole without him. Even when I want to punch him, I still want him to hold me. I’ll always feel safe in his arms, even when I want to kick him in the groin.

I know all of you have someone out there. Even if you don’t realize it. You have fans. You don’t realize how many of us would gladly stay up with you for however long it took, if it meant talking you out of suicide. You always have somebody, even when you think you don’t. Even if you’re not a celebrity. You just haven’t found them yet.

I’ll never understand why you felt the need to take your own life. Maybe it’s because I haven’t found the reason to take my own. Maybe it’s because I’ve been in the dark, yet somehow I found a light. Even if it wasn’t very bright at all. Even though I feel like I have absolutely nothing in this life, and I feel like I have nothing to live for….I still do.

Despite all this crap, despite everything I’ve ever dealt with….If I can still hold on….

Why can’t you?

Description
This is the first time that a celebrity death has compelled me to say something, but it’s been on my mind for an awfully long time...

Sorry if I seem a bit confused, I’m just trying to figure all of this out. I can’t understand why you did what you did. Chester, I’m not just talking to you. Chris, Robin, Kurt, every last one of you that has ever committed suicide, I’m talking to you. I can’t understand what broke you. What the last straw really was for you. I’ll never be able to know what you were thinking when you decided it was time to go.

You know….I was so sure that I wanted this. I uprooted my entire life because I was so sure I wanted this. You know what? I was wrong. I moved my entire life from one state to another to be with somebody, because I was so very very sure that’s what I wanted. Not just wanting, I needed it. My life was shit. The Epilepsy was back for good, I had to move back in with my family, and of course my parents treated me like trash and of course my siblings didn’t care about me. I never wanted to spend time with any of my friends, because honestly, I started to hate being around them. They all had it better than me. Still do actually. They were going off to college to make something of themselves, and I was just there. I moved because I got tired of saying goodbye to the one person in my life who gave a damn about me. I needed a change, and I took it.

It’s been two years and I’ve realized that was the worst choice of my life. That this has been the biggest mistake of my life. His family isn’t any better. His mother is insane, and they are all slobs. I’m the only one with a driver’s license, and for a while I was the only one with a job. Speaking of which, I’ve been through five jobs since I moved here, because I can’t keep a job here. I’m stuck working minimum wage fast food, because I can’t do better. I can't afford to leave either. I can’t climb out of this hole that I’ve dug myself into, because it’s always raining and the mud won’t dry. I constantly feel like I’m drowning. Like, somebody is coming over to me, pushing me down, and then saying “Oh just get back up” but then immediately pushes me back down while I’m starting to stand. I can’t climb the ladder because all the rails are breaking beneath me. The weight of my world is crushing me between a rock and a hard place. I can’t get back on the horse, because it’s already ran away. I guess what I’m trying to say is, my life is miserable. I hate myself. What I was, what I am, what I probably will be. I hate. I feel like a failure. Honestly, I am one. I could have put myself into lifelong debt to go to college, but I don’t know what I’d go for. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up...more. I could have applied myself more in school, if I’d just tried instead of blaming my lack of trying on the fact that my parents didn’t help me at all. You know what else I could have done? I could have killed myself. But I didn’t. Honestly, I don’t know why I haven’t. The thought has crossed my mind more than once. I remember being around ten years old and wondering what the best way to kill myself with the electrical outlet would be. I remember a few months ago, googling what the most painless and efficient way to kill myself would be. I’m going to be 25 in January and I’ve been depressed for as long as I can remember. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far. I really thought I would have killed myself by now.

I’m sorry this is so long guys, and that it’s not ending here. I just... I don’t think you understand. You can’t. You’re not here to. You don’t get to see the consequences of your actions. Not like we do.

You know, even though I’m not famous, and probably never will be, we have something in common. The Darkness. We welcome our depression like an old friend, because it’s all we know. We find comfort in our pain because it’s the only thing that’s been there for us. It’s the only thing that’s been consistent in our lives.

I’m going to share a secret with you guys, okay? I lost my Grandpa (My Papa) on Christmas day, in 2014. He was the only grandparent I care about (The rest treat me like trash) It was my first Christmas with my boyfriend (Who I moved for). I’d just gotten to his house that Monday, and my dad called me to tell me that Papa wasn’t doing good. That he might not make it to the end of the week, and that they were going to find a way to get me back home.

On Christmas day, We were just coming back from my boyfriend’s aunt’s house. They weren’t able to get the Wi-Fi up and running, and they asked the two of us to help. It took a lot of work, but we did it, and we were so happy, it took us nearly two hours to figure out the problem, but we did it. Then my mom called. Papa had passed away. I spent the car ride home in silence.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Neither did your families.

It still hurts by the way. It still haunts me. Ever since he passed away, my dream world has been nightmares. He’s still there. In my dreams. He’d gotten buried alive somehow, and managed to make it for months, but he still survived. My dreams are incredibly vivid, and I can lucid dream. So you might be able to imagine how much this messes with my head. I only recently just had a dream where my Dad actually admitted my Papa was gone, which didn’t make sense anyway, since he’d be walking around in the room I was in prior, but I digress.

I still can’t listen to the song “Shine” by Collective Soul without crying, and I’ve known that song my entire life. I literally grew up listening to that song.

I still can’t listen to the song “Old Man” by Neil Young because it was played at his Funeral, and I couldn’t cry there. I even broke down at work one day because it came on the radio.

I still can’t listen to “Afire Love” by Ed Sheeran without crying because my mom had to say it reminded her of my Papa, and now that’s all I think about when I hear it.

I bet your families can’t let go either.

You know….Like I said earlier, I’ve often thought about killing myself. I’ve thought about driving my car off that nearby cliff, about taking more than the recommended amount of pills, anything to escape this never ending hell-hole of despair, because it doesn’t get better. They say it does, but it doesn’t. I feel like everybody around me hates me. I’m positive they wouldn’t miss me if I was gone. I want to fake my own death. I feel dead inside most days, and it’s rare for me to smile. I don’t want to be here. Despite the fact I’m truly terrified of death, there are plenty of days where I actively want to die. I’m just tired of being me. I’m tired of being a failure, and a lost cause. I’m tired of being alone.

But yet….I’m still here.

It would be selfish of me to kill myself. He would miss me too much. He wouldn’t be able to love again. He’s told me so. He tells me everyday how much he loves me, even though I don’t want to believe him. I want him to hate me so I can disappear. But he won’t. He’s like a leech, clinging to me, trying desperately to suck out all the sadness and make it go away. He hates being tickled, but let's me because he knows it makes me laugh. He makes stupid faces and makes himself look like an fool in public sometimes just to get me to smile. Also, he likes to hear me sing, and I think I’m terrible at it. But he loves it nonetheless. He is making this entire situation tolerable. He’s the reason I haven’t left. Yes. I hate his family, but I couldn’t leave him. He is my other half. I’m not whole without him. Even when I want to punch him, I still want him to hold me. I’ll always feel safe in his arms, even when I want to kick him in the groin.

I know all of you have someone out there. Even if you don’t realize it. You have fans. You don’t realize how many of us would gladly stay up with you for however long it took, if it meant talking you out of suicide. You always have somebody, even when you think you don’t. Even if you’re not a celebrity. You just haven’t found them yet.

I’ll never understand why you felt the need to take your own life. Maybe it’s because I haven’t found the reason to take my own. Maybe it’s because I’ve been in the dark, yet somehow I found a light. Even if it wasn’t very bright at all. Even though I feel like I have absolutely nothing in this life, and I feel like I have nothing to live for….I still do.

Despite all this crap, despite everything I’ve ever dealt with….If I can still hold on….

Why can’t you?