Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Good Sister Interview
I wrote an interview based on the book I recently read, The Good Sister.
Megan: “Hello girls, how
are you this evening?”
Rachel and Asha: “We’re good,
thanks!”
Megan: “First I would
just like to say sorry for your loss, this must be so difficult for both of
you. I’ll start with Asha. Being the youngest and the closest to Sarah, how did
this affect you?”
Asha: “At first it was
like I was numb, I couldn’t feel anything. Which was weird because you usually
associate death with grieving and pain, but in all honesty I didn’t believe she
was actually gone. I kept telling myself that there is no way she could be
dead.”
Megan: “And Rachel how
about you, how did Sarah’s passing affect you?”
Rachel: “Being the least
connected to Sarah was difficult because at first I don’t think my mind
completely understood that she was gone. Sitting at her funeral was difficult,
but if anything I felt more guilt than I felt grief.”
Megan: “This must be so
tough for both of you, but if you could have said I thing to Sarah before she
died, what would you say?”
Asha: “If I could have
said one thing to Sarah, it would have been thank you. I would have said thank
you, because she showed me how to be positive through the toughest things in
life, and no matter what, you have to keep moving on.”
Rachel: “I suppose you’re
looking for a sappy answer like Asha gave, but I don’t have one. If I could say
one thing to Sarah it would be the complete opposite of what I had interrogated
her about right before she died.”
Megan: “Rachel, it
seems as though you know something more of the “accident” that occurred on this
day, do you care to elaborate?”
Rachel: “I know that what
happened wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a murder, she jumped. Sarah took her
own life that day, and jumped. I also know the reason she killed herself wasn’t
because she was depressed, or had cancer again, but she died because the guilt
she felt was eating her alive.”
Megan: “What did she
feel so guilty about that she felt the only way to relieve that guilt was to
take her life?”
Rachel: “When I was with
David, Sarah’s boyfriend at the time, he had told me that he and Sarah were
responsible for a hit and run accident that had killed young boy. With this
information, I finally saw my chance to confront Sarah, who was no longer so
perfect, and chastise her about the car accident.”
Megan: “Why did you want
to interrogate her about it?”
Rachel: “Ever since we
were little I have always been the middle child, the girl with a pretty face, I
could never donate bone marrow and save the day like Asha, and I wasn’t the
Sarah the sickly child. I was always stuck in the middle, and I saw my chance
to get ahead.”
Megan: “Asha, did you
know about this?”
Asha: “I didn’t know why
Rachel felt the need to ask about the accident, but I did know about the truth
behind the accident.”
Megan: “What was your
first reaction when you found out?”
Asha: “When I found the
box in Sarah’s closet, I was stunned. I could not figure out why Sarah, my
perfect older sister, would have a shirt with what seemed to be dried blood on
it, and newspaper clippings from a random boy’s obituary. Nothing seemed to
make sense.”
Megan: “Did your
feelings toward Sarah change?”
Asha: “No, because she
was still my sister, it was more or less just a lot of confusion. I guess I
just couldn’t picture her doing such a thing. She was the good one, the one who
through all of the chemo and hell that came with having cancer twice, would
never in a million years would have been responsible for the murder of Brandon. The boy who left
college to live a little, far away from his home, and just in an instant, it
was gone.”
Megan: “Do either of you
wish you could say something to Brandon? “
Rachel: “No, because
nothing I could ever say to him would change what happened.”
Asha: “I don’t know if I
wish I could say something to him, but I think I’d want to know if he knows
Sarah.”
Megan: “Do you think he
would know Sarah, Rachel?”
Rachel: “I mean maybe, but
if I were him I’d be so mad. He probably wanted her to die.”
Megan: “Where do you
girls think that Sarah is? Do you think that she is in Heaven, or that her
spirit is back with the universe?”
Rachel: “I suppose a few
months ago I would’ve said that she was with the universe, but now I guess I
don’t really know where I think she is. Most days I don’t even know where I
am.”
Asha: “I think that with
all the recent changes, I’ve had a change of heart. I want to believe that she
is in heaven flying with all of the other beautiful angels. I can just imagine
her with her long white-blonde hair, and big wings swaying in the wind.”
Megan: “Okay girls, I
have one final question for you this evening. Would you ever take Sarah’s
place, why or why not? It’s okay to say no.”
Rachel: “Some days I wish
Sarah and I’s roles were reversed, which is probably why I attempted suicide. I
guess that I figured that I’d be the first one to go because I wasn’t the sick one
whom everyone fell over, and I wasn’t Asha, the youngest one who saved the day.
I guess my final answer would be no, but not because I’m being selfish, but
because I think that I’ve finally started learning how to be loving and caring.
In a way I think that a part of Sarah lives in me, because as soon as she
passed I started to care more, and changed for the better.”
Asha: “Yes and no. Yes
because I wish that Rachel would have been able to have the bond with Sarah
that I did, but no because I know that
Sarah wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. I think that Sarah, although
she is dead, watches what goes on with Rachel and I, and I believe that she
loves watching our family come together again. Sarah is where she belongs, she
is no longer sick, and is guilt free, but she is still with us, and always will
be.”
Believe
Something important I believe is that everything happens for
a reason. I believe this because on December 25, 2013, this year’s past
Christmas, my mother suffered from a stroke.
As is seems, it was quite a devastating day, but it was also a day that
I will treasure for as long as I live. I think that Jessica, my sister, and I
were especially fortunate of this timing.
My sister
Kelly was about to leave at about 2:30, but she was refusing to help load the
car, to go to her boyfriend’s families events for the day, and my sister Taylor
had already left with her boyfriend to do the same. As Angus loaded the car, the
same time my mom and Kelly had been saying goodbye, and talking, my mom noticed
she was experiencing some unusual numbness on the right side of her body. Kelly
had my mom sit down and just was trying to help her, ask her what she did, how
she felt, etc. A few minutes later, my mom started to slur her speech, and
immediately Kelly recognized stroke symptoms. Just like a circus train Jess and
Kelly helped my mom into the car as I gathered a few things inside, and off we
went to the hospital.
As my mom
was being rushed in, only one of us was allowed to be back there with her until
a little while later. As I waited in the E.R. waiting room, Taylor and Kelly
came back, we sat down and prayed. About 20 minutes later, Jessica came out and
said that we could come back now. We all sat down with my mom in relief that
she was going to be okay, but at the same time realized what had just happened.
After a few moments of silence, Taylor tries to lighten the mood with, “Well,
Merry Christmas guys!” She got a little chuckle, because after all, we were all
going to be okay. A few more doctors dame in and talked to us and my mom of
course, but then my mom said something that really hit home. She took one long
deep breath and said, “Yah know, if Meg and Jess would’ve been the only ones
home, I would have gone in and laid on the couch, and I would’ve died.”
Forever will
not be enough time to thank god that my sister Kelly was there to talk to my
mom, to take note of the symptoms, to
take her to the hospital, and to save her. I believe that the tragedy that
occurred on December 25, was not in fact a tragedy, but a blessing, and the
greatest gift that anyone could ask for on Christmas, their mother’s life.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Misconceptions of Mental Illness
Chandler Gouchee and Brielle Thompson; kids taken too soon by their own choice, or was it? These children amongst others have suffered from depression and other mental illness', doing their best to lock down any and all emotions until they broke. Teens and early twenties, usually between the ages of 14-24 are most vulnerable to develop these illness' (Murphey) so ignorantly called an epidemic in today's society, because now more than ever people are coming out to seek help, and not hiding in the closet. These people are coming out to face their demons in hopes of ridding the world of these hauntingly horrid disorders. Now more than ever we need to stop stereotyping those affected, and instead educate ourselves on the harsh realities of these illness'.
Nearly twenty percent of all adolescents have a diagnosable mental disorder according to the 2013 Adolescent Health Highlight study by Child Trends, the nations leading non-profit organization for childhood/teen health trends, researching and analyzing to better inform practitioners and policymakers (Murphey). Being apart of this statistic is more common than most people would like to believe, and quite prevalent in the Kennedy halls. Facing the recent loss was tough to say the least, whether you knew her or not, we all felt something. She walked down these ghastly halls just like you and I. With middle school and high school being the holy grail of bullying and degrading, a thunder dome of self-shaming and peer pressure, we are the
ones who don’t get talked to, or for that matter even feel comfortable speaking on the subject. The thought of those kids who are gone or feeling absolutely helpless puts a pit in my stomach knowing that they felt they had no other choice, and no one to talk to or even talk about this with is absolutely a fault in our system, and something that needs to be addressed. As a consequence of being bullied, many of these victims suffer from depression, generalized anxiety, or some other variation of a mental illness. With this in mind, I pose the question, why are we as a school, as a district, and most importantly as human beings, who are living with and amongst these people not lifting each other up? We should be fighting this together, and educating ourselves, as opposed to shoving aside what Chandler, Brielle, and many others, like myself, feel everyday.
I think a major fault in our system as a whole is the lack of fundamental knowledge of mental illness, and knowing that it isn't something you get to believe exists or not. You would think that informing the age group most subjective to such epidemics would be given the respect of a working knowledge, and understanding of these ever prevalent and grueling thoughts. A common misconception of the kinds of people that suffer from these illness's are the ones with bad home situations, kids who wear all black, or lack of parental guidance; when in reality I have three, two parented, loving home, beautiful friends who struggle every day with such mocking thoughts, because this sickness does not discriminate. The difference between you and them? Nothing. They are involved in school activities, jobs, have social lives, boyfriends, all while maintaining above average GPA's; but they just need a little extra help to get them through the day. The people that suffer from this aren't lost causes, don't need to go to a 'loony bin', and most definitely are not damaged. The only thing that separates you from them is you, and you are the ones that we need most to help carry us through our darkest hours.
Someone I know once had the audacity to say, "mental illness does not exist," and that "its just in your head," I had nothing to respond but silence to this profoundly illiterate statement. I found that Sabrina Benaim, a slam poet wrote, "Explaining My Depression to My Mother", a piece that described not only how she struggles with depression, but many other mental illness's describing them to a T, and how her mother reacts is somewhat similar to all people who doubt the capabilities of this illness.
“…my depression is a shape shifter.
One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear,
The next, it’s the bear…
…Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head….
…each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in
the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light.
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company,"
all quotes from Benaim, perfectly capturing the daunting realities of mental illness. A friend showed me this to hopefully help me understand in better words how I felt, because that’s the thing with mental illness, is you can't describe it, it consumes each victim differently, coming and going whenever it pleases.
Sabrina Benaim said, "...my depression is a shapeshifter..", implying that although this illness is physically there everyday, it doesn’t mentally affect her the same way or at the same time day after day; this is true for most people. For me these feelings come and go, having bad days and then worse ones to the point where my thoughts suffocate me, and greeting my bed
feels like meeting an old friend. On the good days I forget I suffer from such things, and am not myself per say, but I get a little closer to normalcy on those days. Friends tell me that they would look at a clock and not be able to escape the thought of a greater code that needs cracked, or the one who can't get through the day without creating waterfalls of tears simply because she feels alone. Alone is a common feeling, a constant feeling even, but this is not just walking through the hallways alone. This kind of alone is the one that is only found at night whilst insomnia greets you, and you can't see through the darkness to your hand in front of you; alone. All these feelings come and go day in and day out, but I know if we all had a better understanding on what we're up against, we might not feel so alone.
Although somedays consumed by the fuzz of a T.V. with no cable, or the eerie comfort of a dark room, mental illness does not define me or any other victim. With more kids than ever coming out of this darkness and seeking help, because the road that seemed to never end, seems to be getting shorter. Even though the 'Kindness Assembly' hasn’t really changed the ways of the kids or even teachers for that matter, it gives me an inkling of hope that maybe these issues aren't going to be looked over for much longer, and there is a brighter future for those struggling. If we can understand what people are dealing with, so we can be better equipped to help, this epidemic can be conquered, and never again will we need to mourn for the loss of one so young.
Nearly twenty percent of all adolescents have a diagnosable mental disorder according to the 2013 Adolescent Health Highlight study by Child Trends, the nations leading non-profit organization for childhood/teen health trends, researching and analyzing to better inform practitioners and policymakers (Murphey). Being apart of this statistic is more common than most people would like to believe, and quite prevalent in the Kennedy halls. Facing the recent loss was tough to say the least, whether you knew her or not, we all felt something. She walked down these ghastly halls just like you and I. With middle school and high school being the holy grail of bullying and degrading, a thunder dome of self-shaming and peer pressure, we are the
ones who don’t get talked to, or for that matter even feel comfortable speaking on the subject. The thought of those kids who are gone or feeling absolutely helpless puts a pit in my stomach knowing that they felt they had no other choice, and no one to talk to or even talk about this with is absolutely a fault in our system, and something that needs to be addressed. As a consequence of being bullied, many of these victims suffer from depression, generalized anxiety, or some other variation of a mental illness. With this in mind, I pose the question, why are we as a school, as a district, and most importantly as human beings, who are living with and amongst these people not lifting each other up? We should be fighting this together, and educating ourselves, as opposed to shoving aside what Chandler, Brielle, and many others, like myself, feel everyday.
I think a major fault in our system as a whole is the lack of fundamental knowledge of mental illness, and knowing that it isn't something you get to believe exists or not. You would think that informing the age group most subjective to such epidemics would be given the respect of a working knowledge, and understanding of these ever prevalent and grueling thoughts. A common misconception of the kinds of people that suffer from these illness's are the ones with bad home situations, kids who wear all black, or lack of parental guidance; when in reality I have three, two parented, loving home, beautiful friends who struggle every day with such mocking thoughts, because this sickness does not discriminate. The difference between you and them? Nothing. They are involved in school activities, jobs, have social lives, boyfriends, all while maintaining above average GPA's; but they just need a little extra help to get them through the day. The people that suffer from this aren't lost causes, don't need to go to a 'loony bin', and most definitely are not damaged. The only thing that separates you from them is you, and you are the ones that we need most to help carry us through our darkest hours.
Someone I know once had the audacity to say, "mental illness does not exist," and that "its just in your head," I had nothing to respond but silence to this profoundly illiterate statement. I found that Sabrina Benaim, a slam poet wrote, "Explaining My Depression to My Mother", a piece that described not only how she struggles with depression, but many other mental illness's describing them to a T, and how her mother reacts is somewhat similar to all people who doubt the capabilities of this illness.
“…my depression is a shape shifter.
One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear,
The next, it’s the bear…
…Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head….
…each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in
the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light.
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company,"
all quotes from Benaim, perfectly capturing the daunting realities of mental illness. A friend showed me this to hopefully help me understand in better words how I felt, because that’s the thing with mental illness, is you can't describe it, it consumes each victim differently, coming and going whenever it pleases.
Sabrina Benaim said, "...my depression is a shapeshifter..", implying that although this illness is physically there everyday, it doesn’t mentally affect her the same way or at the same time day after day; this is true for most people. For me these feelings come and go, having bad days and then worse ones to the point where my thoughts suffocate me, and greeting my bed
feels like meeting an old friend. On the good days I forget I suffer from such things, and am not myself per say, but I get a little closer to normalcy on those days. Friends tell me that they would look at a clock and not be able to escape the thought of a greater code that needs cracked, or the one who can't get through the day without creating waterfalls of tears simply because she feels alone. Alone is a common feeling, a constant feeling even, but this is not just walking through the hallways alone. This kind of alone is the one that is only found at night whilst insomnia greets you, and you can't see through the darkness to your hand in front of you; alone. All these feelings come and go day in and day out, but I know if we all had a better understanding on what we're up against, we might not feel so alone.
Although somedays consumed by the fuzz of a T.V. with no cable, or the eerie comfort of a dark room, mental illness does not define me or any other victim. With more kids than ever coming out of this darkness and seeking help, because the road that seemed to never end, seems to be getting shorter. Even though the 'Kindness Assembly' hasn’t really changed the ways of the kids or even teachers for that matter, it gives me an inkling of hope that maybe these issues aren't going to be looked over for much longer, and there is a brighter future for those struggling. If we can understand what people are dealing with, so we can be better equipped to help, this epidemic can be conquered, and never again will we need to mourn for the loss of one so young.
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Now
Well, I am basically to my word count for the week, and so I am here to give YOU a play by play of my life right now!!!!
I just ate a yogurt and I didn't like it because it was my mom's kind. I have two soccer practices after school today and I am most definitely not excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also I'm currently debating whether or not to eat my sandwich or to wait until lunch, I'm at that point where I could eat something, but I could wait too.
I just ate a yogurt and I didn't like it because it was my mom's kind. I have two soccer practices after school today and I am most definitely not excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also I'm currently debating whether or not to eat my sandwich or to wait until lunch, I'm at that point where I could eat something, but I could wait too.
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