I wrote this on September 30, 2011 and thought that’d I’d finally share it with you. Please recognize that these things do happen and it’s our job to stop them. Continue reading The Tunnel Of Oppression
I bought a teddy bear from Build-A-Bear Workshop when I was ten years old. I am seventeen now, a senior in high school. His name was Dylan. He was the best teddy bear a girl could ever ask for. I stuffed him, I filled him with love, and boy, did I love him back.
For seven years, I loved that teddy bear. I slept with him every night of my life, even when I went to sleepovers or hotels. I would always kiss his forehead and wish him a goodnight. It’s cheesy, I know, but he’s my best friend. One of my oldest best friends.
Today, when I got home from school, tragedy struck. My dog, Chloe, ate Dylan’s face to shreds. My mother brought Chloe to the doctors and it was confirmed that the fabric of Dylan’s face is in her stomach. Just the face. Not the ears or the tail, or the feet. Just the face. He has no eyes or nose or mouth. Nothing.
It’s really upsetting, because I’ve had that teddy bear since I was little. I’m crying at this moment I write this to you. I mean, I was planning on bringing him to college with me this fall! I took him to sleepovers with girls who would think of how childish I was, on vacation with me, to my grandma’s, to camp, etc. I even took him this past summer to Alfred University where I took a workshop and slept in a dorm for one week. (I wasn’t the only girl who brought their stuffed animal.) And I never once cared what other people thought of me, even as a seventeen-year-old girl with her teddy bear, because I had him. I had Dylan right in my arms.
And it’s not that I want to hold onto my childhood and never grow up. I am very excited to grow up, to go to college, own my own place. But the relationship between a young girl and her teddy bear as she grows up with it is priceless. You can’t make up for that time they shared together, or the places they went, or the sleepless nights filled with crying and heartbreak as the young teenage girl experiences her first heartbreak. Your teddy bear is there with you through it all. It never judges, or makes fun of, or laughs. It always knows the right things to say, what to do to comfort you, and make you laugh. It’s always there when you need a hug or a friend to just vent to.
I guess they can’t live forever. I’m hopefully getting a new one soon, the sad part is that the new one will never replace the old one. But I’m getting Dylan Jr. at Build-A-Bear Workshop. I just wish Build-A-Bear Workshop still had his type of bear, unfortunately, they don’t.
But I just want to thank Build-A-Bear Workshop for giving me my teddy bear, Dylan, who helped me through my childhood and almost all of my teenage years. Too bad it was almost.
R.I.P. Dylan Gioia, the best teddy bear a girl could have ever asked for.
Forever in my heart. <3
Wrote this a while ago. Was in a fit of depression for a second or two during the time. I believe it was when those two boys took their lives and devastated my school and community. Such a tragedy. R.I.P. and enjoy. (:
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That’s what I feel right now.
Guilt, because I broke a young man’s heart a couple of months ago and I fear for his life.
Grief, because of the horrible losses my school and community has had to deal with.
Fear that it will happen again.
That it will happen to someone I’m really close to.
These three emotions can be very strong, out-spoken (or silenced), and ghastly.
Sometimes, it’d just be nice to not feel them.
Especially all at once.
My heart goes out to those out there struggling. I’m right there with you.
As well as that young man who’s in a rut all because of me. If you knew my situation though, you wouldn’t be blaming me.
Just remember… You are always loved. Even if you don’t love yourself.
Link to first post about Justin: https://jgfairytalesblog.wordpress.com/2011/01/10/a-boy-embraced-suicide/
This is the second time in one week that a boy in my high school committed suicide. This time he was fourteen and one of my brother’s friends from seventh grade.
That’s way too young to die. Let alone kill yourself.
I just feel horrible that I didn’t know these boys, because if I did I would’ve committed my life to helping them save themselves from themselves.
Profound stuff, right there. ^
Saving themselves from themselves.
We’ve all been there before, though. At least, most of us have. And to those who haven’t, I congratulate you on living life the right way. (:
I believe that this is the most sufficient definition I could find, and I agree with it whole-heartely.
Never ignore somebody if they start to talk about ending their life. Most of the time it is NOT for attention. Most of the time it is a cry for help. They are asking for somebody to show that they care. They aren’t doing it to be called a poser or stupid or an attention-seeker or any other shit like that. They’re saying it because they actually DO want to end it…they do actually feel the need to die. And if you just ignore them, how are you going to feel when you find out that they’re dead? Think about it…just try to help the individual as much as you can.
Suicide is NOT a selfish act. You all say that they’re leaving their loved ones behind and hurting them, but that really only makes you selfish. How can you expect this person to continue living through all the pain that their life is giving them? To go through the feeling of being invisible, like they have no one to confide in? To go through feeling like everybody that once loved them has now abandoned them? And to go through feeling that everyday the walls are closing in on them and that everyday they are sinking further and further into despair? Into loneliness and heartache? How on earth can you expect someone to live with that all the time, just to keep everybody else happy? It’s not like it’s their duty to make everyone happy. So stop being selfish yourself and think of the individual for once.
Don’t think that suicidal people don’t care about you. One of the common reasons for suicide is that the individual doesn’t want to hurt their loved ones anymore. And though they know that suicide may hurt their loved ones, it stops the individual from ever hurting them again. Better once than a million more times. And deep down inside, the individual probably does know that people do care, but they just can’t believe that when they’re feeling so down and out. It’s just hard to think that people care about you when you feel that they never seem to show it and they never seem to be there when you need them most.
If you are someone who believes in fate and God and you believe that everybody has a particular time to die made for them, then you should also believe, as sad and horrible as it may be, that suicide is meant to happen. Perhaps the individual is actually MEANT to die at this time and it just so happens that suicide is the way they die?
I really don’t know…I’m just putting down my opinion. I hope it helps at least one person out there.
This definition wasn’t intended to encourage people to commit suicide, I am merely hoping that it will help everybody else to understand a bit more about suicide and why people commit it.