Now, a lot of people are going to be outraged that I chose to write this. When I say "a lot", I mean a very large handful of people. If you are one of those people that find yourself reading my post, on my blog and you start to feel angry, then you have my full permission to keep your opinion to yourself and to delete or, if the situation calls for it, block me. I will not hold a grudge towards you. I felt the need to write this as a way to show that I did not write my own story, but God did, and through this I give Him all the glory. So, now that we've cleared the air... Let's begin.
Sophomore year of High School- I just recently broke up with my boyfriend of eleven months at the time and was a tad bit emotional (which is relatively normal for someone at the age of fifteen). I had already been volunteering at Compassionate Care for about two months on a weekly basis. SuNell, the director at CCPC, had become a woman I looked up to. Each week we set time aside to talk about whatever bothered me, struggles I faced, or just how life was in general. I believe she was an important part of keeping me on the path I am today. I am extremely grateful to have someone like her in my life. My very best friends were (and still are to this day) Jennifer Hollars, Mariela Grimaldo and Katie Cox. {Now if you are reading this and saying "What about me? I was there too!" or " I thought we were best friends Audri?!" That may be the case, but these girls have been there for me since 8th (Mariela), 6th (Jennifer), and 5th (Katie), depending on the year we met. So I'm sorry, but I'm thankful for you as well.} Then I was thrown a curveball. My handsome guy best friend admitted he liked me. That was okay, because I liked him too. After talking for a few months, attending his football games like any best friend would, going on group "hangouts" at the Brew, and even studying at each others house - which by the way, I really did want to study because we had Algebra Two together and I'll be honest Algebra Two with Mrs.Long kicked my butt! He just "forgot" his homework and would often times try to distract me by taking pictures of me or asking random questions, so instead we'd spend hours just talking about anything and everything. Soon enough I realized that I had fallen for this boy. I was only fifteen years old then and I may not have known what love felt like, but if I had to bet on it, it had to be this. Heck, I'm eighteen now and I still don't know what love is besides the love of Jesus Christ. On December 25th we made it official, he asked me out and of course, I said yes. Like any couple, we had our ups and downs, our fights, and our misunderstandings... but I've yet to meet anyone with such a loving, kind and giving heart like his. He confessed to me at one point about his struggles with suicide, that in the seven months we'd been together he hadn't let one negative thought enter his mind... to him I was an angel and he often times told me that. I told him I wasn't his angel, but rather he was mine. He stood by me in my time of depression and searching, and I made sure I did the best I could to always support him as well. One week, when he was very sick, I spent everything I had to buy him whatever he wanted/needed. That entire week, I would go to his house immediately after school and wouldn't leave until his mom or dad mentioned it was time to go. However, at the young age of sixteen, my self confidence was at an all time low. I conjured up in my head that I wasn't worth having. I knew he deserved better than me, but I was still so in love, that it hurt to try and let go. I wanted to break up for his benefit... I should have done it better, or maybe I shouldn't have done it at all, but the past is the past and I tried to use my religion as a means of escape. When asked if I would go see him on July 1st after our break up, I said no. I didn't want him to see me cry, I didn't want him to have open arms willing to take me back, I didn't want to feel like I was hurting him anymore, because I felt I didn't deserve any of that. I attempted to preoccupy myself with a friend and her family's company, but when she saw the pang of anxiety on my face everytime I received a text, I'm sure it was difficult. If I had known it was going to be my last conversation with him, I would have replied instead of allowing myself to dwell in anger. We were young and we didn't know how deep our words would haunt us years later. Hours later, I went home and got busy helping clean the house. I got a text from a friend who then told me what had happened. He had committed suicide. No one knew the exact time and I think that's for the best. That night my house was full of people talking to me and praying for me, but I was still in shock. The countless number of Facebook messages I received that day are beyond me. I was tagged in SO MANY posts it still clouds my Facebook wall to this very day (even more so now that FB has the "On this day... [two years ago]" thing)... The one FB message that stood out the most was the one that said this: "Wow. You should be ashamed of yourself [b----]. How does it feel to know that you are the reason he killed himself?" to which I kindly replied "You know my name, you know the situation, however you do NOT know my life story...and you do NOT know I am already feeling guilty about this without your help. So please mind your own business and leave me to my own!" (Shout out to this guy though because you helped me realize how people might see this and I developed backbone because of you, so God bless because it was all part of His Will for my life.) However, if you ever found yourself in the position to read my FB messages, you'll see that I've continued to send messages to his Facebook. I write to him and tell him things because at the end of the day, he is still my best friend, I still love him and that's one of the hardest things to deal with. The most painful message I ever wrote after he passed away, was the one immediately following the news. The message where I realized I'd never see a reply from him ever again. So, if you think that I don't still get emotional over this, then you are wrong... Junior year I couldn't handle it. The first week of school I didn't even show up to my afternoon classes, because at lunch everyday I'd break down and cry or have an anxiety attack and be sent home. Eventually I made it through, but I'd still have moments that I'd have to get up in the middle of class and run to the bathroom crying my eyes out. And the nightmares... the nightmares were the worst. Imagine dreaming someone was alive, only to wake up the next morning to the harsh reality that the person you miss most is never returning. Those nightmares still affect me two years later...
I am not writing this for a pity party. I'm not writing this for attention, I am, however, writing this because someone out there needs to hear this. Maybe you've been thinking of suicide, or maybe you are struggling with healing after the loss of a loved one... I'm here to say don't let your pain make you feel trapped, because PEOPLE CARE, okay? TRUST ME. PEOPLE CARE ABOUT YOU! & if you've lost a loved one, let me say this, IT DOES GET BETTER. Not right away, not within a day or a month, but everyone is different. And please don't let people judge your way of grieving because everyone is different and it is essential to healing. Judging someone else over their grief process is what I believe to be the stupidest thing society can do for a hurting person. Everything will be okay, and if its not okay yet, that's perfectly fine, but when you are ready, the rest of the world will be here for you with open arms.
There's one last person I'd like to mention in this story, her name is Meredith McDonough. Meredith & I have never been super close, but instead of asking multiple questions or writing a paragraph to me explaining how sorry she was for my loss, she gave me what I needed most: A scripture straight from the mouth of God. So thank you.
God is a miraculous Father in Heaven. In my time of need, I ran to his open arms and prayed like crazy for those involved. I'm so thankful for his love that extends to us everyday, over and over again. So, let God heal your heart like he did mine, after all, this is His story, not mine.
-P.S I'm praying for all you lovely people out there reading this. God Bless You.
-- Audri Michelle
-P.S I'm praying for all you lovely people out there reading this. God Bless You.
-- Audri Michelle
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