Since I moved to America, I always found someone who would "betray" me as you will even though I was there to look out for them. I sometimes don't know what I was doing. Maybe it was because of their appearances or personality that lured me in especially to befriend them. Actually, when you were only nine or ten years old, why would you look to personality just to befriend someone? All that they had to do was have something in common with you, and oftentimes, I felt like I had nothing in common with anyone. I thought I was the stranger, the alien, or some outcast that nobody would want around. From that point on, by just thinking of myself in that way, I began to struggle even more with having relationships with people. The worst thing that I could have done then was to think of how bad I am when I am around people. That is, I used to judge people a lot and I could not help what I did, because I had so many insecurities that built up because of family life and school life. I did not trust myself around others, since I would simply try to seek their attention, cry as much as possible, and make them feel sorry for me. Let's just say that I was going through my phases.
Ever since I started college, I guess you could say that's when I finally opened my eyes to what life is really all about. I remember how selfish I was to my family and friends. I treated them very badly. At home, I would not care about their well-being and would do whatever that I wanted to do without thinking of them first. It was basically me, me me! Man, I should be ashamed of the way that I behaved. But I have no idea why I did that, even when it was after my parents' divorce. Shouldn't I have tried to help my mom out more? Isn't that what good girls do? Well, not me. By the end of senior year, I began to go out with my first boyfriend. It started out nice, until college came around. First semester turned out okay, but my grades suffered. I was not paying enough attention to myself. I'm not sure when I ever really did anyway. All that I ever cared about was how others thought of me. That's how I've always lived my life. I made my mom so unhappy everyday while I was at home. My sisters judged me just like how I judged them. There was real chaos, one in which I did not know how to stop from happening.
I learned something today. The first person that I should be taking care of is myself. If I even want to help others, I need to do that by giving people space to grow and learn. It was hard accepting that, but I'm getting better at it. What is it about human beings and being so possessive of things that are not theirs in the first place? Then again, we are but animals. It's just one of our natural behaviors. It's no excuse though.. I mean, if we really love someone, we shouldn't try to hurt them. It's unfair to them and to us--the offenders.
Okay, so what does that have to do with the death of my friend? Well, you know how sometimes you don't understand the significance of a friendship and the life of a human being, until you finally lose someone close to you. Can't argue with that, because I know for sure that my friend's death truly helped to create another crack in my world of fantasy. Her death obviously made me realize how selfish I was. During the time that she was alive, I remember telling her about many of my problems. I wasn't that careless as not to have heard her out when she told me of her life story, but I didn't give much attention to what she was going through, or if she was going through anything at all. I basically assumed that God has "saved" her, since she seemed so holy in everything that she did. She smiled almost all the time, and I couldn't do that. I keep feeling like I don't belong and how abnormal that I was around people like her at times. Now I get that all Christians and all people have troubles of their own that not everyone else will know or fully understand. I don't want to understand people in everything that they do, because I wouldn't be able to handle the burden. That's why I look up to God to help people like my friend. I know that when she killed herself, she was weak and felt helpless. She had a couple of mental breakdowns that I did not know of until after her death when someone finally told me what went on a few months back. I don't have to kill myself to know what she might have been thinking. Every time that I feel depressed, the next step is to decide whether or not one still wants to live or to die. Though simple as it may be, it can be a paramount decision to make especially if one no longer has the "right" of mind. I wish I was there for my friend....I wish she didn't have to go through that....I wish I could take away the pain or live it with her just for that moment when she couldn't bear it anymore....I wanted to be there for her.
There's no doubt that I have to thank God that I have lived through many of my depressions and can now see what could have been if it was me. I know that my friend's death was not in vain--at least not for me. I will carry out her work--the one that she left behind for me and the rest of her friends to hold onto and carry. Whatever is good about her, I want to let people know. It may be somewhat unfortunate for me and many of those who knew her to carry the burden of reliving the memories that once was, but I guess I'm willing enough to talk about her death for anyone who might want to know. It's a worthy memory, and one that I must make memorable.
I will end here...
