waiting for the light (Teenage Suicide)

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waiting for the light

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dressed in her best
better-off dead outfit
she resides in the shadows
for the sun
never shines for her

even in the blackness
the unnoticed signs
were always there
until she grew weary
tired of the dark

longing for enlightenment
she sits there
quietly
patiently
waiting for the light

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In the past year, four friends/acquaintances lost their young sons and daughters to suicide.  Incidents of teenage suicide are growing at an alarming rate.  Each day there are an average of 3,041 suicide attempts of teens attending the 9th through 12th grades (in the United States alone).

Could one conversation, one hug, smile, pat on the back, or question have made a difference?  Can’t the ballgame wait for another time?  Can’t you catch the latest epsiode of your favorite show tomorrow on Hulu?

Every message, every minute counts.  The most important thing we give to our children is OUR TIME.  Think about it.  It could be a matter of life or death.

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Articles on the Subject:

Newsweek

https://www.newsweek.com/2016/10/28/teen-suicide-contagious-colorado-springs-511365.html

The Atlantic

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/12/the-silicon-valley-suicides/413140/

USA Today

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2018/03/19/teen-suicide-soaring-do-spotty-mental-health-and-addiction-treatment-share-blame/428148002/

 

Resources:

http://prp.jasonfoundation.com/facts/youth-suicide-statistics/

https://www.cdc.gov/healthcommunication/toolstemplates/entertainmented/tips/SuicideYouth.html

https://www.apa.org/research/action/suicide.aspx

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Call 1-800-273-8255
Available 24 hours everyday

 

 

 

 

Fragments Of Me (Time)

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Adults always complained about time.

Never enough time for this; not enough time for that.

My parents were at a dinner party; while I stayed at my friend’s house. I was summoned to the phone.

Barely eleven, I listened to my mother sobbing. Apparently, my drunkard father slapped her in front of all their friends. “Please check  on the house.”

Two flights up, I unlocked the door with a spare key. Moonlight filled the dark apartment.
Terrified, I walked through the quiet living room until I reached the long hallway leading to the back of our home.

I froze.

The man I hated for all of my young life, the tyrant who abused us, lay on the floor with a gun resting inches from his hand.

Fear, relief, joy, and sadness flowed through me like light through a prism.

Fighting the urge to run away, I approached him. The rise and fall of his back confirmed he lived.

Time for my first adult decision even though I knew it meant a beating the next day.

Dropping to one knee, my trembling hand reached for the gun. The weapon appeared to weigh a ton.

I thought of tucking it in my pants like they do in the movies. Then a odd thought crept into my mind.

Whoever said dog is man’s best friend didn’t have a pee-pee.

Shoving the weapon in my jacket pocket I ran out and didn’t stop running until I reached the black railing overlooking the East River.

Removing the gun from my pocket I stared into the barrel.

Why would anyone want to end their life?

There by the river, in a city of eight million people, surrounded by a magnificent skyline, I never felt so alone.

Making my second adult decision, I tossed the gun into the river.

That little boy stood there another hour, admiring the crescent moon, the river, and the city he called home.

He wouldn’t help but wonder…..

If time was as precious as people say, why do adults waste so much of it on hate and violence.