My name is Andrea I'm 14 years old, and I live in Minnesota. I'm severely depressed. I cut, I burn myself. And I have several addictions. Not to mention Bipolar Disorder, OCD, ADD, insomnia and the slight chance that I might be Schitzophrenic. In fewer words, my life is an emotional hell. Every day, I walk past a bridge leading over one of the busiest freeways there is in my state. Every day, I stop and stare down, on foot on the short cement wall connecting to the rail, ready to hoist myself up and over, to plummet to my death.
I work at a camp, and I would go there and see all of those happy people, even my best friend, Tabitha, and I would sink deeper down into my hole. Only one person there helped me, and he's never coming back. He's moving halfway across the world, to a different country, a different continent, a place where he can't help me.
Every time I stop at that bridge, there has never been someone to tell me 'Stop! If you're doing what I think you're going to do, please don't do it! You've got so much ahead of you.' I wonder if I would listen to a complete stranger saying that in the first place. But one day, I was standing there, and who else would drive by? But that one co-worker who helped me. And one of my good friends from an acting camp I did. He doesn't even live in this state. I have no idea how they met each other, or if they new each other before I knew them, but all I can really remember is hearing a car skid to a stop, pull over in a nearby parking lot, and two boys, one Caucasian and one Native American sprinting full-speed towards me yelling my name.
Honestly? it scared the shit out of me. And I almost fell. Now, I laugh, because that's exactly what happened to the one person I tried to save from jumping. He got scared when I said his name, and he fell, his brother leaning out too far to try and catch him. I had to watch them both plummet to their accidental deaths. But this time, I had someone to catch me. John, the one who lives in a different state, caught me. I noticed he was crying. In the months I had met him, and talked to him, and visited him, I had never seen him show such deep emotions. The first thing I asked, "John, why are you crying?" Him and Jacob looked at me like I was insane, and Jacob replied, "Why is he crying? Because one of his good friends just tried to off herself!" Then John added, "And why do you care about how I'm feeling...focus on yourself for once."
I laughed bitterly at that point, and said, "That's when I try and kill myself."
They took me back to Jacob's house, and neither one of them left my side, they didn't get up to get food, or anything. They both just kept their arms around me and let me lean on them, and stay as close as I needed to. We sat there for six hours, until Joe's girlfriend came home. At that point, Jacob had to go, so I drove all the way back to South Dakota with John, just because I didn't want to face going home. I called my mom, and told her what was going on. And she was fine with it. She knew how close we were.
I've never felt so alive in my life. I've not picked up a razor blade in almost two months. I haven't taken in any lines of any drug, or smoked a cigarette. I haven't drank, I haven't partied down. I've just lived happily.
These two saved my life, and I'm telling you this so you know that YOU can be saved. There is ALWAYS someone out there who WILL care for you. NEVER forget that.