My Troubles...

This is a picture of Fran'Cisco' and I back in highschool. He was basically my brother through all of high school. I dont really have a picture from the time period Im writing about, but this picture is probably closest to that moment.

I was a very troubled teenager back in grade 9. I had just moved out of my mom's house and moved in with my dad. Moving in with my dad wasnt the easiest adjustment that I ever made.
My parents had a lot of problems with eachother even though they separated shortly after I was born.
Their resentment for each other was often put on me. Im sure many of you guys can relate. I had moved from Mississauga to North York where I went to Amesbury and later on to Boylen. My friends that I left behind started feelings ways about my new friends and me not being to visit as much anymore. I never really felt comfortable at my new highschool. And at home with my dad I always felt excluded from the family that consisted of my dad, his wife and their 2 sons. I slept in the unfinished basement with a tiny window in the corner. (PS. I have this thing with dim lighting...my mood is greatly affected by the amount of lighting that I receive). I didnt like high school either. I dont know...same shit every other teenager goes through I guess.

As you may predict, I was contemplating suicide. My mind was filled with depression, wishing I was born in another life, in another body, in another time, with different parents with different friends. But like I said, my problems arent unique to other kids at that age, and they probably werent that severe.

I started writing a lot of poetry to vent. My french teacher Ms. Rosvelti started keeping an eye out for me after she read this:

WILL YOU CRY

Many nights Ive sat outside
Waiting for the Sun to rise
Counting down the days til I die
At times Ive felt it was time to bid farewell
Because my life seemed like a living hell
When I die, will you cry?
For about three days, but your eyes will dry
Will you see me tomorrow?
You'll never know
Maybe tonight Ill let myself go.
Fourteen years I have stood
But youve knocked on me
As if I were wood.
Upon my bed I lay at night
Planning for my final flight
To the place that has no light
For if I dont return
Then you will have learned
That I have left
With that great theft
Of taking my own life.
There are many reasons for me to leave,
But for if I do,
Do not grieve
Its just because I dont want to breathe.
For I love life
But does life love me?
Yes or no
We will see.
How much longer must I live this way?
This will all pass they say.
There were reasons for me to stay,
But theyve all gone away.
I want you to know
Ill still be thinking of you
Even when I close my eyes,
For that very last time.
When I die...



...Will you cry?

Theres nothing super amazing about the poetry or my use of devices and my selection of words...but it gets the point across.

Anyways, I planned out how my last day would have been and I headed off to school to say bye to my friends...no one knew what was going on. (In retrospect, this is absolutely lame) But my french teacher was curious as to why I was extremely emo the entire day...

Well, lets just say Ms. Rosvelti saved my life and the rest is history.

But sometimes I think, man, what would the lives of everyone else have been if I was no longer here? Like anyone Ive ever touched or affected? How would everyone else carry on without me? Like how would my mother be? My father? My siblings? All of the girlfriends Ive ever had? All of the friends that Ive being lucky to have? Basically, every wonderful momeny I have ever lived through in the last 9 years would be non existent. No you. No me. No anything. Just nothing.

To think that I may have died and not have experienced everything in the last 9 years is a really depressing thought. Especially with who I know and have in my life now...
As hard as somethings were to deal with growing up, in the first 14 years or the last 9...I would do it all over again if I had the chance to...
I would live this life again, exactly how it was.

Appreciation and value is only gained through struggle and suffering.

I have never once thought about suicide since then.

As cliche as this sounds, what doesnt kill you, only makes you stronger. With every other obstacle you overcome, you build more character. Life is a lesson. Dont give up so easily. Things always get worse before they get better.

Ms Rosvelti, wherever you are now, thank you so much...