It Gets Better

“I was rerouted today after someone decided today was the day to cut his life short and jump off the sixth floor of a building. 
Bukowski wrote, “there is a loneliness in this world so great… people so tired, mutilated either by love or no love” – for the man who jumped today, his invisible agony had reached an unbearable level. I won’t pretend that I knew what this man was going through and I’d like to believe that there is something someone could have done to stop him in that moment, but I can’t be certain there was. 
What I do know, though, is that everything affects everything. Everything you say and do- the way you can hurt the ones you love when you don’t truly mean to, the way you can make someone feel so little by calling them just one word, the way you can set up unreasonable expectations for mere mortals. 
Just be aware of that, everyday be conscious of those around you and how your words and actions can affect someone who may very well already have their mind set on jumping out that open window. Sometimes it takes very few words or a very small gesture to remind someone that there is goodness beyond this hell, that the fight to live is worth it, even if that may be just a temporary fix.
Each of us has not only the power to take a life, but also the power to restore a life.”

In honor of Suicide Awareness Day, please know that you are loved and there is hope for you. If you are feeling completely lost in life, just know that things will get better. I know that is a phrase used quite often and when you are at your lowest it is hard to believe it, but please just know that it does. If you are reading this, I promise you now and forever, that I will always be here for you if you need someone to talk to. I can help you get the help you need or be that person you can trust to talk to. Just please promise me you won’t leave this world because it is not your time and you have a long and beautiful life to live still.

Lifeline- Suicide Awareness Day 2012

Lifeline

I don’t look down, not yet. The wind is blowing my hair across my forehead, and my fingers are locked tight around the railing behind me. I shuffle my feet, careful not to step too far; the tips of my toes hang off the ledge. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe.

I’ve had the most amazing life. My parents are supportive of everything I do, we’ve got a nice house, I’m good at school, I’ve got everything I could ever want. I’ve been able to do what I love every day of my life, but lately, it just isn’t enough. The pressure is too much. I have to hide my hurt, pain and fears on a daily basis, both from strangers and the people I love.

I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t keep pretending.

The worst part is, I’ve been so lucky. I have an incredible life, much better than so many other people’s lives, so I can’t complain. No one would understand. They’d see me as self absorbed, conceited, arrogant, all because I’m well off and they don’t understand that I feel pain too.

I’m just so tired of being tired all the time. I never get a moment to myself, and I always have to be wearing a smile and acting happy, or people would say I’m just looking for attention.

I just can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. I wish I could tell my friends that it’s not their fault, make sure my mom knows I love her, tell the world that it’s nothing they could have done, because it’s all my fault.

I hear shrieks below me, and I glance down. I see a woman pointing up towards me, her hand covering her mouth while she screams.

“Call the police!”

“He’s going to jump!”

“What room is he in?”

“Get him down!”

It’s now or never. Jump, or suffer the misery.

The doorman to the hotel is clearing people away from the building; more people are staring and screaming.

The height makes my head spin and I glance back over my shoulder. The doors leading from my hotel room onto the balcony are swung open, the curtains blowing in the breeze.

The hotel phone rings, starling me, and I almost lose my grip on the railing.

I refocus on my mission, and glance down again. Below me is the city street, cement and asphalt, ready to embrace me as I leap to my death.

The door to my hotel room slams open. “Hey, some guys going to jump off- Cole?” My best friend’s voice pierces my trance. My head whips around, and I see Luke standing in the doorway, the door swinging shut behind him. His face is covered in shock and disbelief.

“What are you doing?”

I turn my head back to the street. “Go away,” I mutter.

“Cole-”

“Go. Away.” I say, gritting my teeth. Does he not understand that I want to do this?

I hear him take a couple steps closer to me. “Cole… I- I don’t understand.”

I don’t respond. Does anybody ever understand? I’d stopped telling people about my problems a long time ago; they never understood. They always thought I was a moody, hormonal teenager who was overreacting to minor problems.

“Talk to me,” Luke’s voice cracks.

“I can’t do it anymore, Lu,” I say, calling him by his childhood nickname, still facing the street, talking with my mouth to the wind.

“Do what?”

“This! Live! All of it!” I burst out. “It’s too much.”

“Cole, please.” His voice is as raspy as mine. “Please, come back in. Talk to me. Don’t do this,” he steps closer to me, out of the hotel room and onto the balcony.

I blink, my eyes burning, and I can barley breathe. I’ve been planning this for a while, this is my only chance.

“I-I’m sorry, Lu,” I say, and take a step forward, letting go of the railing.

The Dark Knight Rises Shooting

My heart is heavy today.

Early this morning, during the premier of The Dark Knight Rises, a gunman entered a theater in Colorado, and killed twelve people and injured fifty- nine others. It's the deadliest shooting since the Fort Hood massacre in 2009. 

The gunman, identified as James Egan Holmes, entered the theater, and threw in a smoke bomb, and began to shoot when the moviegoers began to run.

Witnesses have said that at first, they assumed that it was part of the special effects, as the shooting happened during a scene with gunfire. He had kicked down an emergency door and entered the theater, carrying a shotgun and a rifle.  Holmes had apparently painted his hair red, and said he was "The Joker."

According to James Wilburn, a man who had been sitting in the second row of the affected theater, the shooter was dressed all in black, wearing a flack jacket and a gas mask. Wilburn and his friends dropped to the floor when they realized what was going on. “The shooter was only five or six feet away,” he says.

Once the shotgun was empty, Holmes calmly dropped it to the floor and started shooting with the riffle.

Naya Thompson, who was seeing the movie with her boyfriend, were running for their lives. She says that the gas spread quickly, and the gunman must have had a lot of it. "It was like a tear gas," Thompson told the newspaper. "I was coughing and choking and I couldn't breathe."

Jordan told the paper that one girl was struck in cheek, others in stomach including a girl who looked to be around 9-years-old. The youngest victim was about six years old. Jordan said it sounded like firecrackers until someone began yelling, "They're shooting out here!"

President Obama said he is "shocked and saddened" by the mass shooting and urged the nation to "come together as one American family." He said his administration will do everything it can to support the people of Aurora, Colo.

"As we do when confronted by moments of darkness and challenge, we must now come together as one American family," Obama said in a statement. "All of us must have the people of Aurora in our thoughts and prayers as they confront the loss of family, friends, and neighbors."

The police have released a statement from the family of the shooter, saying, "Our hearts go out to those who were involved in this tragedy and to the families and friends of those involved."

(Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2012/07/20/deadly-shooting-colorado-movie-theater-dark-knight-rises/#ixzz21CCPovgZ)

I can’t imagine what the victims, witnesses and families are going through. I’m in shock. My heart is heavy, and I’m praying for them.

This sounds cliché, but this just reminds me that tomorrow is never guaranteed. These people went to see a movie, and some of them aren’t coming out. I’ve messaged all my friends, telling them how much they mean to me. I can’t imagine what I would do if I got the call, telling me that any one of them had died.

It’s such a tragedy, and I will be keeping everyone in my prayers.

Xx, Nell

Far Away

Listen to this while you read! :)

Eleven months. It’s been Eleven months since I’ve seen you. Eleven long, torturous months. Eleven months since I boarded that plane. It’s been eleven months too long. And, love, I miss you. But there’s only a couple more months until I can come home and see you and Aubree, and that’s what keeps me going.

I can’t wait to see her, to meet her, to hold her in my arms. Does she have my curls and your eyes? Or your smile and my dimples? The pictures you send just aren’t enough. How could they ever be enough, when I know there’s a little girl across the sea, waiting to call me Daddy?

I carry the picture you sent me in my boot. You and her. It’s my good luck charm. My two girls. The woman who owns my heart and the little girl who already has me wrapped around my finger.

Every night, I lay awake and stare at it. Shadows dance across the walls and scenes play out in my head, things I’ve missed. I was deployed only a month before Aubree was born, and I kick myself every day for missing the birth of my child.

I can only imagine how that would have gone. I can imagine you waking me up at three in the morning, whispering that your water broke. As we both know, I would have freaked out. You would have been the calm one, grabbing the overnight bag and the keys.

            Her first smile, her first steps, so many things I’ve missed out on. I’m sorry, love, but I’m coming home. I’m coming back to the place I belong. Only a few more months, and we’ll be together again. In just a few months, we’ll be a family.

            I love you. Forever yours, Ryan

            The letter ends, and I smile. “I miss you,” I whisper. It’s been so long since he’d left. I just want to be together again. I want to see his face, hold his hand, hear his laugh.

            I grab Aubree from her crib and head downstairs to feed her lunch. Opening the cabinet, I pull out her favorite snack and set it on the counter, but the sound of the doorbell fills my ear.

            I shift her to my other hip as I head for the entry way. “Just a second, baby girl,” I tell her as I open the wooden door.

I freeze when I see the camouflage that the man wears. His hair is cut short, his combat boots laced all the way up, and dog tags hang from his neck. In his hand is a thin envelope, and his last name is stitched onto his shirt. Johnston. His eyes are apologetic, and that’s what hits me the hardest. His eyes. Deep blue with flecks of silver, and filled with sorrow.

“Mrs. Grace?” 

I can’t answer. I know what’s coming. He’s gone.

“Ma’am?”

“Y-yes. That’s me,” I force myself to choke out.

“You’re husband was killed last week. It was a roadside bomb. Almost every man in the vehicle was killed.”

“What?”

“He’s dead, ma’am.”

The four letter, one syllable word hits me hard, knocking all the air out of my lungs. I lean forward, and place my free hand on my knee, the other still supporting Aubree. I can barley breathe. When I was finally able to draw in a breath, it sounded like a wounded animal. It was a gut- wrenching, broken cry, so desperate and mournful.

I slowly stand upright, hand over my mouth, stifling my sobs, and look at him. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am,” He hands me the letter and turns to leave but then turns back around. “He was a very honorable man. I knew him personally, and that’s something I’m proud to say.”

            “T-thank you,” I whisper and shut the heavy wooden door. I collapse on the couch, sobbing. “No, no, no, no, no,” I wail, repeating it over and over.

            Aubree soon joins in, whimpering softy. Whether if it’s from hunger or from hearing me cry, or if she can sense something is wrong, I don’t know. “Shhh,” I whisper. I hold her head close to my shoulder and rock back and forth. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry,” I tell her, even though my weeping is louder than hers.

            My gaze catches in the mirror above the fireplace, and I’m startled. I don’t cry often, but now my eyes are red and puffy. They’re full of fear, anger and despair. But the thing that strikes me the most is the full-blown terror.

            “Ryan….” It’s the only word I can manage, when really, I want to say how much this hurt, tell him that I can’t do this, that it was too much. But I can’t. He isn’t here. He can’t hear me. He’ll never be here again. He’ll never meet the daughter who looks just like him. He’ll never get to teach her how to ride a bike, or how to drive a car. He’ll never get to sing her to sleep or kiss me goodnight.

            What’d I’d do for one more chance, just one more day with him.

Unity Through Tragedy

This is the fifth person at my school who has died this year.

First was an English teacher, from cancer.

Then Corey and Christina from the car crash back in November.

Next was my friend’s cousin, Chris, who committed suicide a couple weeks ago.

Now, the football coach’s daughter died in a car crash on the Thursday night of the week Chris committed suicide.

It’s weird, in an awful way. Our school family has been through so much together. We’ve had happy times, for sure, but the loss this year has been immense.

People always say that they didn’t know people our age could die, and I would think “Are you stupid? Everyone can die!” But now I understand. You know they can die, you just aren’t expecting it. They’re so young; they have so much life ahead of them. They haven’t lived long. You just don’t expect it to happen to someone as young as them.

The girl who was killed in the car crash on Thursday night, she went to a school nearby that my friend’s mom taught at. We made a banner for them, like they made for us when Corey and Christina were killed back in November. We’ve been having fundraisers, to raise money for her family, just like our rival schools did for us.

My friend’s mom told me that they were stunned by everything my school has done for them, and I remember back in November. A week after Corey and Christina died, our principal came over the announcement system, and told us that one of our rivals raised $5 thousand dollars for us and the families, and our other rival raised $3 thousand.

I remember being shocked, and even though I was gutted about the accident, knowing that even though we were opponents, that they really came around us and supported us when we needed it.

I truly believe that God is using these tragedies to pull us together and bring us to him. Please pray for our school, and the other schools that have lost someone. Thanks!

We're A Family And We Miss You

Saturday morning, two students from my school were killed in an awful car crash. They were driving home late at night from bowling with friends when they were hit by a drunk driver who was going easily over one hundred miles per hour, according to eye witnesses.

The girl, Christina was giving Corey a ride home from bowling. She was stopped at the light and making a call to tell her brother, who made it through the light in front of her, that she would be home in a minute, a few minutes before they were hit. The boy, Corey Cooper was flung out of the car, and one eye witness tried to help and performed CPR with no response. When paramedics arrived, they were both taken to the nearby hospital, and later pronounced dead.

They were both so young. Corey was only 18, just a senior at my school. Everyone who knew him, or even just saw him in the hallways, knew he was always smiling and laughing. The girl, Christina, was 20, a recent graduate of my school. I barely knew Christina, but I had spoken to Corey on Friday after school for the first time.

I had gone with my friend to talk to the yearbook advisor before we went to hang up posters. I sat on one of the desks while she talked to the teacher about advertisements for the yearbook. Corey walked in to talk to the teacher, who held up a finger. “One minute.” Corey nodded and we exchanged a couple words while we waited. My friend finished up and we left, leaving Corey with the teacher.

Then Saturday I get on Facebook and find out he’s been killed.

It’s awful. I was touched by his life, even though I didn’t know it until it was too late. It’s overwhelming to go on both Corey and Christina’s Facebook pages, or even just scroll down my news feed and see all the posts, pictures and statuses about both of them.

“Tomorrow is going to be hard, walking into school and 7th period, and lunch without seeing Corey. But the truth is that we all can make a difference and DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE!!!! R.I.P COREY ♥”

“Can I please wake up and all this just be a horrible nightmare!? :'(“

"Of course the first thing I hear on the radio this morning is about the accident.. & the silence of the senior hallway is the loudest thing I've heard in my life."

"Today was so quiet and sad. God wanted two great people with him two days ago and we all have to be there for each other gone but not forgotten RIP."

"The silence today was almost unbearable. Even though i didn't know you very well Corey, rest in peace ♥"

“Carroll's a family. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. We miss you, Corey.”

"Well congratulations . You decided to drink and drive , and you killed a twenty year old girl , and a high school student graduating in less than six months . . . He was laughing , always laughing , and if not smiling . . . I have one question , how will you live with yourself ? I couldn't . Rest In Peace , Corey & Christina . Corey , I'm really gonna miss your smile

“Walking into Kroger and knowing that Christina isn't going to be there to check you out is the worst feeling ever, then seeing the memorial they have set up for her really tops it off.. Just when I begin to accept the truth that they're gone I'm forced to remember it all over again.”

“I hate stupid people... Without them we would still have you... Rip Corey♥”

“Two things today should have taught everyone was never
drink and drive! You might think your fine but one drink means don't drive! And also make sure you live each day like your last cause you never know when it could be your last. R.I.P Corey and Christina :(“

“Not even knowing him his tragedy has hit me deep. My prayers go out to his family and loved ones. He will not be forgotten and I know that for sure. His life shows me that you have to live life like today is your last day. From what I have heard he is the model of living life to the fullest and having fun in the process.”

Today was so quiet and sad god wanted two great people with him two days ago and we all have to be there for each other gone but not forgotten RIP“We aren’t just a school. We're a family. Once a patriot, always a patriot. RIP Corey.”

“Only the good die young" RIP Corey and Christina. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family and all who have known them... I wish I could be there for the memorial service but just know I am praying with all of you.”

“One time I was talking to Corey, for some random reason, and even then, he told me that life was short and you have to live it to the fullest extent. And I didn't even know him, but I honestly feel like he did that. Clearly, he was extremely loved, and I just wish I could have gotten to know him better. RIP Corey Cooper”

“It can never be explained why God would take two amazing people away from us, but we can hope they are in a better place right now with God and his angels. Love you Corey and Christina. You two always brightened my days and knew how to make me laugh ♥”

Today, the first day back to school since the accident, was the worst day ever. The school was silent. There was a memorial set up in the lobby near the senior hallway, and counselor’s in the chapel. Everyone was crying, and those who didn’t know him were silent, just out of respect for those who did. All the teachers said something about them about them at the beginning of class. Some told us that we could just lay our heads down if we needed to, any time throughout the class, and if we felt the need to go to a counselor, we could just ask and we were immediately allowed to go to the chapel. A lot of students did, and everyone was so depressed and upset. Thank you to the faculty for helping holding us together in this hard time.

Our school is now one filled with pain and anger. We’ve become a family through this tragedy, but we need God more than ever, and I’m praying that God will give us the strength to keep going without Corey and Christina with us. R.I.P Corey and Christina. We love and miss you.