I’m not going to write anything here today. I’m going to send you to what I’ve written over at my other site, myLetters of Love, instead. Thanks for reading, and make sure you check out the other posts there.
I’ve been thinking a lot about bullying lately, because it’s been all over the news: Lexi, a teenage girl in New York, killed herself after being bullied by classmates in and out of school; Phoebe in Massachusetts killed herself after being bullied by classmates in and out of school; and Michael in a town only twenty or so minutes away from me was murdered by a friend who bullied him.
I was bullied all throughout elementary and middle school by various fellow students, and I still haven’t shaken some of the leftover feelings of inadequacy, low self-esteem, and no trust that were a result of that bullying. Various people involved in these deaths are being questioned and charged, and I can’t help but wonder why stricter anti-hazing laws and precautions are not put in place. The story is always the same, even mine: person is being bullied by several people, school administration (I.e., teachers and principals) and peers ignore it, person becomes more and more isolated… How can people ignore what’s going on right in front of them?
The only people who stuck up for me were my parents, and one girl named Celeste. I can clearly remember the girl who bullied me most, Nicole, attacking me at my bus stop after school one day. She ran off with her friends, and Celeste found me and walked me home, where we ran into the group of girls again. Celeste told them to leave me alone, or they’d have to deal with her. Celeste was the kind of person who was sweet on the inside, but she could and would kick anyone’s ass. But the first time Nicole attacked me, during school, I was on my own; the substitute in the classroom remained oblivious, and the teacher I went to for help wouldn’t report it because, as he said, “I don’t want you to get in trouble, too.” I still clearly remember him saying that, and can still feel the wave of shock and disappointment I felt as I begged and begged him to report it, and as he shook and shook his head.
Mike’s little brother Tony is bullied on an almost daily basis, because he is smaller than the other kids, disabled, and can’t really defend himself when the other kids push him or call him names. Something has GOT to be done about bullying. I’m so afraid for this generation of kids in school, and for the next generation; it only seems to be getting worse and worse.
My heart goes out to the friends and families of the three: Lexi, Phoebe, and Michael. I am sorry that they endured such pain, and I’m sorry that their lives came to such a tragic end.
I found out this afternoon that one of the Cheshire murderers tried to commit suicide yesterday, and I realized something. Normally, when I hear that someone tried to take their life, I empathize. I reach out. I wrap them with love and hope, even if we’ve never met. I do this because I have wanted to take my life on more occasions than I can count. I more than understand what it’s like to want to die.
This guy, Steven J. Hayes (46), raped and murdered two young girls and their mother, and badly beat their father. He was helped by his friend, Joshua Komisarjevsky (29). These grown men invaded a Cheshire family’s home after following the mother home from the grocery store so they could rob her.
And I can’t get it out of my head. They wanted to rob this family, but didn’t stop there. It was beyond unnecessary, beyond brutal. Every time I think about it, I want to vomit and cry. It breaks my heart that a thirteen-year-old girl, a seventeen-year-old girl, and their mother lost their lives so violently. It breaks my heart that William Petit, the sole survivor of the invasion, has to live without his girls.
I live probably twenty minutes from their town, in a city, but I still can’t shake the anguish and anger I feel when I think about it.
My model, especially since starting Letters of Love, is to extend love to those who are struggling with depression, self-injury, eating disorders, and addiction. I made it my business to reach out to people who had attempted suicide or thought of it daily.
This is one person I cannot ever love, because I cannot forgive his actions. I can never empathize with him, because his suicide attempt was an act of cowardice, an out because he didn’t want to face the music when his trial begins. He may struggle with himself, he may suffer from depression, but I attribute his depression with an act of pure evil.
Maybe this makes me a hypocrite. I attribute the depression that I and my friends at Letters of Love endure to a real illness that was not born out of evil, something we cannot help. We struggle to keep ourselves safe from ourselves. We try to live normal lives. We do not hurt other people.
But there is a line, blurred, because you could say that Hayes suffers from depression. You could ask, “How is that any different?” And I would answer, “He raped and murdered two young girls and their mother. His depression results from knowing that he is going to trial and faces the death penalty.”
Hayes’s and Komisarjevsky’s acts have destroyed any love I might have for them, because I cannot forgive them for what they did. The way that I feel toward them, a cold, apathetic hatred, scares me, because it is so different from the loving and healing warmth I might give anyone else.
I have a favor to ask you all.
Some of you might know that I run a pen pal support group, Letters of Love, for people with depression, self-injury, etc. Some of you might know that I suffer from depression, that I used to self-harm, that I have on several occasions wanted to take my life. In the almost two years that I’ve been running Letters of Love (LOL), it has grown very large, helping many people.
I’d like to take it a step further.
I’ve long been wondering why there isn’t a directory of organizations who help people with mental illness, as well as a directory of bloggers who struggle with mental illness. I mean, we spend an awful lot of time feeling alone. I’ve been using LOL to try to connect us all, but I really think I need to do more. I’ve been wanting to put this directory together, but wasn’t sure how to tackle the job.
I’ve finally decided to do it, but I need your help. If there is an organization, such as LOL, Holding of Wrist, or To Write Love On Her Arms, that you know of that helps people with depression, or a blogger you know of who openly writes about his or her experiences, please comment with a link to their website. (I will, of course, ask any bloggers for permission before linking to them in this directory.) If you could also write a short description of who they are, what they do, and why you recommend them, that would be great.
Please pass this link along to anyone you think might want to help or who might benefit from the directory when it’s complete.
Thank you.
PS: If you’d like to share a link but don’t want to comment publicly with it, just shoot an email to me at elizawhat@gmail.com.
