For once, I’m happy to have failed

I’m sure most of you know that I tried to kill myself when I was a senior in high school. It was a messy affair and I was taken away from school in a police car to the hospital where I was tied down – because that is apparently what they do to folks who have decided it’s too painful to continue living, they tie them down – and left in a room. My father was the first person to get there. I can’t for the life of me remember his expression or if he seemed upset, but I do remember the first words that came out of his mouth. He looked at me and said, “Well, girl, are you sorry now?” My response? Because even then it was imperative that I conduct myself with as much drama as possible I replied, “I’m sorry it didn’t work,” and turned my head to the wall so he wouldn’t see me cry.

Whoa, that was kinda heavy, even for me typing it out. But I have a point. The date of this little event in my life, though I had forgotten the exact date until recently, was November 18, 1996.

I’ll pause to let that sink in.

NOVEMBER 18th. Do you know what’s happening exactly fifteen years to the day that I tried to remove myself from this world over some high school BULL SHIT? Breaking Dawn is being released. Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me. You’re clearly missing the point here. The point is, I can’t even begin to fathom all of the amazingly, wonderful things I would have missed if it had worked.

Sometimes the clouds cover the sun and we forget how beautiful things can be. Things are gray; they lose their luster and their shine and all we see and feel are the bad. The thing about clouds though, is they never stay in the same spot too long. Ever. They always fall apart or move along with the wind and when they do, wow things are bright! That’s how it was for me. Life, as it turned out, wasn’t so bad. I can’t tell you how sorry I feel for those people who continuously reminisce about high school. There was a line in I Am Number 4, “He’s in the third year of the best four years of his life.” When you think that an average life spans over eighty+ years that is a sad, sad thought. Twilight came along when I was about twenty-eight or twenty-nine and once again, things got a little brighter. Finishing my first novel, Emmy’s Song was in direct response to the words ‘The End’ at the back of Breaking Dawn. Four published novels later I just marvel at the world and how it sparkles (hehe) with possibilities for the rest of my hopefully very long life.

The pain I felt at that time in my life was very, very real. The love I felt then was very, very real. But what was exaggerated was the feeling of forever, or perhaps just such little knowledge of how long forever really was. If you know a teenager who is hurting, don’t discredit what they feel. Don’t tell them they’re just young and this will pass, and blahh, blahh, blahh. Tell them…about me. Tell them that if I had let those four years take away the rest of my life I would have never had Twilight and really, whose life is complete without a little Twilight? =)