This is a story my friend wrote about his life
and what he's going through.
Scorpion’s Sting
Every night as I lay down I think of what could have been my eternal sleep. Every night as I lay down I also think of that accursed dream. In this dream a giant scorpion chases me through a twisted labyrinth, destroying everything in its path, chasing me. The irony of this dream is that I was born under the constellation of Scorpio and all that is born with it.
Growing up I Felt like the former ninth planet Pluto, cold and alone. I was always different from other kids, I didn’t interact with them. I was a lone island in the ocean. I don’t know why but I didn’t feel human. I felt inferior to my peers. I was an ant among gods. Bu to their faces I lied and pretended I was a god among ants. I always resented being like them-humans but I also resented them for their happiness and my failure to obtain it. They had everything I wanted and jealously burned in my hurt. Due to my failure to obtain the prizes others held, I shut them and being alone became normal over time and I enjoyed it yet it hurt still. Loneliness was my heroin of choice and I did it with a passion. But soon it came to the point that I overdosed.
On December 5th, 2008 I attempted to take my own life. Yes, I tried to silence my own hopes, and dreams into an eternal dream from which they would never return. But I already felt as though my dreams were just as they were and nothing more: dreams. As I was rushed to the hospital I felt such a failure for failing at life, even failing to die, I felt worthless and wanted to leave this world. My heart raced as I drifted in and out off consciousness. I heard the doctors voices asking me questions such as “Shayne why did you want to kill yourself?” or “Shayne, what type of pills did you take and how many did you take?” I felt as though their questions would go on forever as my body shook violently with caffeine surging through my system. Trying to die at the time made me feel invincible. I had never felt this brave. Before death always frightened me, it reminded me of the unknown, the uncertainty of tomorrow.
Eventually I was sent to a hospital in Towson and I was with other young men who faced problems. The ones I hung with had anger issues and often became violent. The ones I remember the most were Stefon, LaVontae and Devon. Those three were quite colorful characters. Stefon had broken things in his house in a fit of anger. LaVontae had stabbed his teacher. Devon had just argued with his mom. All three of those boys could express emotions such as anger and whatever they felt. But me, unlike them, could not. My feelings were bottled up inside me burning my flesh from the inside until the point it consumed all of me.
When I got out of the hospital I received an e-mail that hurt me so deep and evoked emotions I never felt: guilt. The e-mail my friend broke my heart just reading it.
Hey Shayne. I know that if everything is not okay, then you're not going to tell me. And with the rumors that are going around, I doubt that you will get this message, if they are true. But Shayne, if you're okay, just let me know, okay? If you don't want to, I understand. You think I'm an arrogant ass, and though I may not always agree, you are entitled to your opinion about me. But we're also friends, despite my so-called "arrogance", and I wanted to make sure that you were okay.
I don't know why I'm sending this. Maybe it's curiosity. Maybe it's genuine concern. I would like to think that it is solely the latter, but I suspect--I fear--it is a combination of the two. So I'm not going to pressure you to answer me. I think you probably won't... I expect that you probably won't. But I'm sorry that you're going through something, whatever it is, and I wanted you to know that. I'll pray for you. I don't know what good it will do, because neither of us believe in God, but I'll try, and hope that it works.
I never thought anyone could care about me and it hurt so deep to realize that my actions have an effect on others. It brought back the painful memory of my mother crying as she left me in the hospital freeing her tough exterior. She was scared for me and the terrible fate that might be bestowed because I was sick. Over the time before my suicide attempt I had developed an increasingly atheistic view in contrast to my family’s staunchly Pentecostal Christian beliefs. The view that there was no God hurt me deeply making loneliness all the more painful yet at the same time I tried to mask it up with my superiority that I knew the “truth.” But the truth never brought me the answers I desired only more tears that seemed to flow forever.
My suicide note was rather strange. I did not tell people why I wanted to die. I just said goodbye and wrote down some final thoughts that I found trivial like how my favorite show ER was going to end; things like that. Online on my MySpace I simply left a bulletin feeling like a failure and told I the people that I respected and liked that I was leaving and I expected them to good things in the future and they should achieve their goals doing their best. I saw in them what could have been me. As much as I loved those people I hated them too. I viewed their lives as perfect and never thought of their own struggles, trials and tribulations. I thought that I was the odd one out and the fact they liked me was beyond me. I saw my self as a worthless human being who deserved to die just like the rest of us. That note represented my failure not to die but to have the courage to be sound and resolute and face the world with conviction no matter what path I took. They all had that courage they were my role models and yet I hated them. They were simply normal and I hated them.
Coming back to school was difficult. Luckily no one knew were I was so the rumors were running abounded. Some said I was arrested, others in the hospital, one said dead, or had moved. They even suggested I had a DUI. I just had to deal with reality. My mother in her concerned mode questioned if I was ready. I said I because I knew I had to be able to face reality and all the pain that comes with it.
I thought my entrance would be as if it were the red carpet at the Grammys with people all in my face, but it wasn’t, my entrance was silent as I am and I proceeded to do my work. It was in third period that someone asked about my absence. I politely declined to answer and people asked me if I was okay. I mumbled the generic responses that we are all trained to give out per society’s instructions. It was when I was in the hall that it all came out. My friend Davon who was concerned asked about what happened and I wrote it down. The pain I caused him evoked more of that guilt cutting deeper into my heart. The day went on as I confronted people’s questions over the concern about my disappearance. The day in all went well. The next day was hell.
That day I had a debate to give out. I had just started planning it less than an hour before it started. I felt normal like my old self: smart, capable, a person who could not operate under pressure, but live and die thriving under pressure. That was me in school. I was the first speaker and tried to belt the words out but I stumbled and panicked my heart racing with the choice of fight or flight. I chose flight running out of the classroom.
I ran out and saw Lauren, a kind senior I had befriended. She saw me in my panicked and disarrayed state and gave me words of comfort. The conversation switched from my panic attack towards God. I’ve always wanted to be proven wrong about God not being real but my logical half refused to give into that fantasy. Her experiences were similar to mine and she helped me take a critical look at myself. I saw how I closed myself off afraid of getting close to others out of fear of hurt, that I don’t take chances. That I don’t live my life. I realized I needed to find reasons to live. I had to try at least for the people I love sake.
The story doesn’t end there. It goes on and on. Why? Cause it’s about my life. Even now I struggle back from the hell I made to a heaven I want to create. The journey for me will be long and hard. I can’t promise tomorrow that I’ll be alright. I just have to live my life. I have to stop running from me and accept Shayne for who he is. I have to love me. My journey is propelled by the constant love that surrounds me and will never leave my side. Even as I take my baby steps out into the world I’m scared out of my mind. But I do it anyway despite the promise of an uncertain future and with all my weaknesses, hopes, fears, and strengths walking with my head held high up with the courage to be sound and resolute and face the world with conviction no matter what path I shall take in life.
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