by Dawn Green
I finally went home after a few hours with the girls. I told them what happened to my phone, and they said they would send me some of the pictures and videos that they have of you. It won’t be the same but it’s nice of them. We know that we’re going to see each other at school, but we still said our goodbyes. When I got home, my mom was sitting on the couch, petting Hershey and crying. I was prepared for her to get mad and yell at me, but I wasn’t prepared to see her like that. I told her I was sorry, but she just got up off the couch and held me. And I started crying again. I think I’ve cried more today than I’ve cried my whole life. Seriously.
My mom thinks I’ve been holding it all in since your funeral, and maybe she’s right. We didn’t really talk at all. She just cuddled me on the couch the way she used to when I was a kid. Miss Baker phoned and told her what happened. I guess she feels totally responsible for letting me do the assignment. My mom said that Baker is so upset about what happened that she might not finish her practicum. There’s a big meeting I have to go to tomorrow. The OC, Baker, Principal Kline, my parents—they’ll all be there. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m too tired to think about it right now, anyway.
Night.
Sticks
Oh … and I messaged Jake on FB to apologize about freaking out and wrecking our presentation. He just messaged back.
So I guess we’re good. I hope we are.
April 7th
Dear Stones,
The counselor said I can stop writing to you if I want. She’s not going to check it anymore, and I only have to go and see her if I want to. But I have a few pages of this journal left and, besides, you should know what happened.
When my parents and I walked into Kline’s office, everyone was there waiting for us. I thought this was going to be another meeting where everyone talked about what they were going to do with me, but that’s not what happened at all. I don’t know how it happened, but I guess Baker showed our final project report on Romeo and Juliet to Kline. Then they spoke to my counselor and got her take on me and on everything that had been going on. Anyway, the principal agreed with what I said and what I wrote.
Kline: Sara, what you said about Kacey and the school not doing enough … well, we discussed it further and we agree. Perhaps we did not handle the situation …
Me: Stop saying that about her. She is not a situation.
Kline: You’re right. I apologize. What I am trying to say is that we should have done more. We are going to do more.
Me: How?
Kline: How would you feel about going around with Julie (the obnoxious counselor does have a name) and speaking with a few classes about Kacey, about the topic of suicide …
Mom: I’m not sure that’s such a good idea …
Me: Mom, it’s okay.
Mom: Sara, I …
Me: No, Mom, really. It’s okay.
Mom: If you’re sure.
Me: I am. It’s just … I wouldn’t know what to say.
Baker: I think you just need to be honest. Talk about you and what you went through after Kacey left.
Julie: And I’ll be with you the whole time.
Kline: What do you think, Sara?
I’d told them I’d think about it. Me!? Some teen-suicide-prevention spokesperson? I feel like this is something I need to talk to you about, like I need your thoughts. I’d be talking about you and I’m not sure you’d be okay with that. I know you wouldn’t be. But then again … you’re not here. When you killed yourself, you kind of lost the right to have an opinion. I think I’ve already made up my mind. I just thought you should know … and I do hope you understand.
Sticks
Oh, and my parents got me a new phone to replace the one I dropped in the ocean. It’s a way better one. It must have cost them a fortune, but they said my birthday is coming up. I know they just feel bad about the photos and stuff I lost. I guess I should be happy about it. It’s just that nothing can replace what’s gone.
April 20th
Dear Stones,
I’ve been sitting here, looking at the journal for about ten minutes, thinking about what I wanted to say to you. It’s been about two weeks since I wrote anything, and I felt you deserved some kind of an update.
I don’t know where a person goes when they die—maybe you really can see down from wherever you are and, if you can, you probably already know everything I’m about to tell you. But just in case you can’t, and this is the only way you’re getting to know what’s going on here (like a spirit journal or something—nothing freaky, just kind of magical), then I think you should know a few things.
Things have gone pretty much back to normal. I mean, people aren’t looking at me like the girl who went ballistic in Baker’s class. They’re back to looking at me like the girl whose best friend killed herself. I’m not sure that will ever go away. I’ve gotten used to it. Baker decided to finish her practicum. It took some convincing from me and my mom. But I think she’s going to make a great teacher one day, so I’m glad she didn’t quit because of me. Actually, she’s going to help organize some of the talks with other schools. We haven’t even done the first talk with our school, but they’re already planning others—well, I’m in on it, too … and so is your mom. We’ll all be going around together and talking with students about you and what we went through when you left. We have our first talk in a couple of days. It’s with the whole 11th grade. We figured we’d start with the people who knew you the best. I’m super nervous about it, but Baker reminded me that I have this journal and I should just look to it if I don’t know what to say. Although, based on my whole Romeo and Juliet project, she’s sure I won’t be at a loss for words!
It’s funny—until she called it “my journal,” I kind of thought of it as yours. In some ways, I still do.
Loren, Drea, and I haven’t spoken since that day on the beach. I knew we wouldn’t. But we smile and say hi in the halls and stuff. I also see Melissa (aka, Weird Glasses Girl) sometimes. Usually she’s eating by herself in the library or sitting by herself on the stairs. We don’t talk a lot but, when I do see her, I usually smile and, sometimes, when I see her in the library, I’ll grab a book and sit next to her. I wish high school was better for her. I wish it was better for a lot of us. But the reality is, high school is high school … and it can really suck sometimes.
Oh, and Mia found me in the bathroom, not hiding in a stall, just washing my hands. I said I was sorry for yelling at her. She asked if we could still meet to talk about stuff sometimes, not in the bathroom, just like normal, in the lunchroom or somewhere. All this time, I thought she was meeting me so I could do the talking, but I think she needed me just as much as I needed her. I thought about your poem, and those uncontrollable ripples you wrote about. A stone dropping in the water causes a ripple effect, and you can’t control or imagine just how far those ripples will go. Mia only knew you through Loren. She didn’t really know you, but your death affected her sister and, to some degree, her as well. She’s struggling to understand why just as much as we all are.
And yesterday I raced in the city championship for track. I came third, but the coach was really happy because our team won the overall. I might run again next year. I might not. We’ll see. I do love running, though. I take Hershey for a run all the time now.
Jake won his events so we went out to celebrate. I think we might be dating but I don’t know. We haven’t made anything official. I went to watch him play hockey. He let me play bad guitar for him. We haven’t kissed or anything… but I want to. See, this is the kind of thing that I wish you were here to talk about with. I still miss you. Sometimes I miss you so much, it actually literally hurts, like a real pain in my chest—maybe it’s my heart. Can a sixteen-year-old have a heart attack?
So that’s what’s going on with me.
Sticks
May 1st
Dear Kacey,
We had our big assembly today. We did it in the gym. Our whole class was there. They dimmed the lights a
nd had a big screen up at the front. Julie gave a PowerPoint presentation about suicide. It was a really good presentation … she’s not so obnoxious after all. Actually, she’s kind of cool, but I’m never going to tell her that.
We put your picture up on the screen. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a lame school picture. It was that one of you from our last sleepover. You were wearing your purple hoodie and you’re kind of laughing at something … it’s a good pic, and it’s so you. I couldn’t look at it when we put it up. I almost lost it before I even started talking. Drea and Loren both saw that I was struggling, so they came down and sat beside me. It was hard to get started but, once I did, I just talked about you and all the stuff I’ve been dealing with since you left.
A lot of students had questions about it. I don’t know who asked it, but someone in the back asked if we know why you did it. I think they, like me and everyone else, need a reason. Your mom got up to answer. It wasn’t easy for her to talk, but she said that it’s important everyone understands that you’re the only one who can fully answer that question. The doctors can put a label on it but, in the end, you had your own reasons. And we may never fully understand why you did what you did, but we do have to live with it. I have to live with it. Your mom was actually pretty great.
There was only one question I had a hard time answering. Nikki Harris wanted to know how I found out and what I went through that day. I didn’t know what to say, so I brought out this journal and I read about that day. It was the February 17th entry. At the end, I read that I didn’t know why I had written about that day. Something about not knowing the point of it at the time … but I understand now, not completely, but sort of.
I’m on the last page of this journal and I’m running out of room. I guess this is it.
I’m totally going to miss you.
Kacey, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me to be. I’m sorry we had started drifting apart. I’m sorry I never told you to stay at the party. I’m sorry I never texted you back. I’m sorry that you felt you had to leave. I’m sorry that we won’t get to grow old together and that the world will never hear your music. I’m sorry.
I don’t mind if you come to visit me. I hope that I’ll always be able to see, hear, and feel you around me. You left, but I hope that you’re never gone.
Forever, your Sticks.
Sara
Sticks,
I know I’m not in any place to ask you a favor, but I’m going to anyway. When I’m gone, I want you to remember me for me and not what I did or how I died. I don’t want my life, or yours, to be about my death. I don’t want you to think about me in that way. When you think about me, I want you to think about banana-chocolate milkshakes, skipping school to go for one of our epic chats by the ocean, sleepovers, scary movie nights, camping, marshmallow fights, my cheesy campfire music … and please don’t make me out to be some saint, either. We both know I wasn’t that. I know I haven’t been the easiest friend to be around this year, but thanks for “sticking” by me. I might have been your Stones but you were my rock, and you’re so much stronger than you know. You’re not going to get it, and I don’t want you to. I know there’s nothing I can write that is going to make this any easier on you. Please don’t hate me for this.
Love me for who I was.
Forever, your Stones.
Kacey
Acknowledgments
Bree—thank you for reading and rereading and then reading again. Thank you for handling my ego with care. Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability. Thank you for sharing Trevor with me.
Peter—thank you for believing in the importance of this story and for giving Kacey a home with Red Deer. Thank you for your guidance. Thank you for putting me into uncomfortable places and helping me to take this story and myself somewhere I didn’t know we could go.
Jen—thank you for your friendship; I think you will spot pieces of it throughout this story. Thank you for listening to me all these years.
Kimmy—thank you for always asking me to tell you a story.
All my family and friends—I am blessed to have you in my life. Thank you for your encouragement and patience.
Grandma and Grandpa—thank you for telling me that I could do anything, and, more importantly, for making me believe it. I miss you both.
Mom—thank you. Forever—love you.
Suicide Information
and Resources
The way through it …
Reading Kacey’s journal may bring up all kinds of feelings, whether you have been depressed yourself, thought about hurting yourself, or are worried about someone else. That’s okay, because when we feel things, it lets us know there might be something we need to do to take care of ourselves.
The first thing to know is that your feelings are real and are okay. Even if you don’t know exactly what’s going on and can’t put words to your feelings, you should talk to someone you trust. If you have no one you feel comfortable talking to right now, then it’s important to call a crisis line like KidsHelpPhone or a local distress center (numbers are listed below).
There is a way through it.
That’s what you need to remember in your lowest moments. So hold on, there is a listening ear, even if you don’t know that yet.
As Good Charlotte wrote in their suicide prevention song:
Hold on, if you feel like letting go
Hold on, it gets better than you know.
Don’t stop looking, you’re one step closer.
Don’t stop searching, it’s not over.
Hold on.
(Hold On by Good Charlotte, 2002)
The facts
People talk about these being the best years of your life, but the facts are that young people struggle. There’s so much going on between the ages of 12 and 25. Our bodies go through their biggest growth period at this time. Our brains are changing constantly, making us unsure of how to react or what choices to make. Our social and intellectual development—making new friends, finding new interests, questioning what we thought was true—make this time even more challenging.
And then there is the stress. People think that young adults don’t have much stress but that’s not true. The pressure of school, starting a new job, expectations of family and community, and feeling unsure of our abilities, can sometimes make life feel overwhelming. You are not alone in your struggle. All young adults face these challenges. Some of us find stress hard to handle and need help to deal with it. In fact young adults are more stressed out than any other age group.
More than one in five young adults struggle with their mental health, most often anxiety and depression. When we are depressed we feel isolated, lose hope, and sometimes harm ourselves. Feeling anxious is normal. It helps us to avoid danger. But when it gets in the way of our leading the life we want—when we have extreme physical and emotional responses to things—then it is no longer a useful feeling.
Suicide is the second leading cause of death for young people. Canada has the fourth highest rate of suicide for young adults in the 34 countries of The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). And if you are poor, if you have experienced some sort of trauma like abuse or bullying, or if you identify as different from the majority of your peers, then you are at greater danger of experiencing mental health issues.
How to help
Research shows that talking openly to people about suicide in a safe and supportive environment does not increase your risk of committing suicide but instead lessens it. Most people contemplating suicide need to feel hope that the emotional pain they are experiencing will lessen. One of the best ways to give them hope is to offer them some alternatives and show them we care. Whether you are a friend, a teacher or a parent, these discussions are hard to have. Therefore it’s important to look for support and resources in your community.
If you know someone who’s struggling, the first thing to do is to listen. This doesn’t mean you have to have all the answers. You can always s
ay you get it but you don’t know the answer and will help the person find out. Find someone to help you get some answers—like your parents, your friends, another family member, your guidance counselor, or a teacher you trust. There is a lot of information out there and people are more open to discussing mental health than ever before.
One way to detect an emerging problem is to look for behavior in your friend or child or student that doesn’t make sense: an unlikely change, looking bad, being crabby or twitchy, complaining about not sleeping, drinking more, doing more drugs, eating differently, pulling away from friends, doing wild and risky things more than usual, or giving things away (when they don’t usually do that)—or just plain acting differently.
Learning about mental health is essential. Just as we must learn how to take care of our bodies, so must we learn how to take of our hearts and minds. There are tons of resources online (some are listed below) and a trusted doctor or guidance counselor will also have great information. Or you could join a support group at school or in your community. Many school boards are committed to integrating education about mental health into their curriculum and teacher training (see for instance the Toronto District School Board site). This is also true of universities, many of which have growing support networks on their campuses (see the Jack Project and on-campus peer supports that often are available through student services).
If the burden of your friend’s pain becomes too heavy for you to carry, you must get help for yourself and for her or him. If your friend or child or student has said “I don’t think it’s worth living anymore” or “Nobody cares if I’m alive or dead,” take it seriously. This is a cry for help … yes, they are seeking attention but they are seeking it because they are in terrible pain. Even if your friend has sworn you to secrecy, it’s okay to break a promise to save a life.