Weekend Camp (On Suicide)
I suspect that many of us entertain thoughts of suicide on occasion. Even the healthiest probably ventures into that dark corner, imagining what it must be like to be free from the problems and burdens of life. Such thoughts are rarely vocalized and rarely shared. There is a fear associated with suicide because it is a failure placed upon those unable to prevent its occurrence. As such, there is no overreacting when it comes to its possible prevention.
My sixth grade class and I were at a weekend camp in Malibu near the end of the year. The first day's activities were over and we were in the cabin trying to sleep. Around midnight a counselor woke me up and told me to pack my things. I was to wait in the main office, having been informed my parents missed me and wanted to pick me up as soon as possible.
One of the boys I was sharing the cabin with whispered "He used his psychic mind powers to call his parents," because apparently I gave off that impression.
Two hours passed in that office.
About ten minutes prior to my parents' arrival my sixth grade teacher walked in and said that I was being sent home because I was suicidal.
I denied the accusation. She pointed her finger at me and sternly disagreed. I argued I would know if I planned to kill myself. She claimed she knew better, having the evidence to prove it.
My parents were presented this evidence, shitty poetry I had written in the style of Jim Morrison, gleaned from a cleaning of my desk some weeks prior while I was away at music class, and a confession by my friend, who in looking to evade a long walk back to the cabins, took a comment I made out of context and offered it up in trade to a counselor for a ride.
These instances were combined with my already non-traditional behavior to paint a picture of me as a child on the edge.
The drive back was long and cold, a total inconvenience for my parents; awkward and uncomfortable for myself. There was silence, and darkness, and quite a bit of fear of what was to follow.
When we got home my father called me over and directed his frightening gaze my way.
"Are you going to kill yourself?" he asked.
"I don't plan to," I responded.
My father took me at my word, and from then on made sure that that the situation did not escalate. His trust in me will always be something I am thankful for.
My sixth grade class and I were at a weekend camp in Malibu near the end of the year. The first day's activities were over and we were in the cabin trying to sleep. Around midnight a counselor woke me up and told me to pack my things. I was to wait in the main office, having been informed my parents missed me and wanted to pick me up as soon as possible.
One of the boys I was sharing the cabin with whispered "He used his psychic mind powers to call his parents," because apparently I gave off that impression.Two hours passed in that office.
About ten minutes prior to my parents' arrival my sixth grade teacher walked in and said that I was being sent home because I was suicidal.
I denied the accusation. She pointed her finger at me and sternly disagreed. I argued I would know if I planned to kill myself. She claimed she knew better, having the evidence to prove it.
My parents were presented this evidence, shitty poetry I had written in the style of Jim Morrison, gleaned from a cleaning of my desk some weeks prior while I was away at music class, and a confession by my friend, who in looking to evade a long walk back to the cabins, took a comment I made out of context and offered it up in trade to a counselor for a ride.
These instances were combined with my already non-traditional behavior to paint a picture of me as a child on the edge.
The drive back was long and cold, a total inconvenience for my parents; awkward and uncomfortable for myself. There was silence, and darkness, and quite a bit of fear of what was to follow.
When we got home my father called me over and directed his frightening gaze my way.
"Are you going to kill yourself?" he asked.
"I don't plan to," I responded.
My father took me at my word, and from then on made sure that that the situation did not escalate. His trust in me will always be something I am thankful for.
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