Hey, guess who?

After attempting suicide and rushing to the hospital, I thought about a couple of stuff:

What'll happen to my grandma after she finds out? She has a heart disease, so that kind of news would kill her.

What'll happen to all my friends who are also suicidal and/or depressed? Is it worth it giving them this image of me? Is it worth it giving them the thought of joining me?

What'll happen to my cats? I am the only one that cares for them; I love them and they love me back.

What'll happen to my teachers? Those who never gave up on me, they will think I gave up on them. And those who gave me a bad grade because they had to will feel bad because they will think a bad grade was my reason to kill myself.

What'll happen to my classmates? Who will make them smiles? Who will help them pass or explain to them how a computer works or what happened in 1917?

What'll happen to my datemate? Do I really want to leave them alone for good after all the stuff they've gone through? Do I really want to scar them for life? Don't I love them? Then why leave them?

Yahweh, Eli and Hatty all were crying, lamenting themselves in terror as I felt my head light, soon to pass out. They all said they were sorry, they didn't want this. They didn't think I would do it.

When I woke up I didn't think nothing at all. Everything was silent except for the several machines in the room (I mean, we are all in a big room.). For the first time in months the voices weren't there, Hatty and Eli weren't there staring at me either.

Not even Yahweh tried to take over my body.

Everything after felt like a dream, I didn't eat at all as far as I remember...

No one at school didn't really notice I was at the hospital, so it was a relief.

And since my father refuses to take me to a psychologist after all this mess, I decided to speak with the school counselor (whatever it's written like).

I had to admit everything, the scars couldn't be hidden anymore and the tears couldn't be held back.

But yet, in that hour and a half I recovered my hope.

Just in time for my birthday, I guess.

Everything went okay, my classmates sang Happy Birthday to me at least 5 times, they gave me a small cake, the teachers all let me have a rest in class, my father got me a huge teddy bear and a fancy dinner at a restaurant at the top of Mexico City's World Trade Center. Probably his way to say sorry.

And, well I learned after that experience that

Maybe I'm suicidal because I can't let go of the past; abuse from my mother, abuse from my brother and father, bullying, loss of a few loved ones, poverty, lack of help when growing up...

It just happened, yet I can't let go. According to the psychologist, it's destroying me inside out and to get better, I need to let go.

And maybe let go of those toxic relationships, cut boundaries with those who only cause or want to cause harm to me...

I don't know what will happen next, but now I know I shouldn't care about what happened yesterday and don't think about tomorrow too much; I'm living in the present.