WuToWu # 30: When the Abstract Becomes a Reality

*Depression and Suicide Trigger Warning*

Dear Curtis,

It’s hard to say when it truly hit. Perhaps when I was told Monday morning in french or when I found out the name and realized I knew the person. Or maybe it hasn’t even hit yet.

As you know by now, a Paly sophomore committed suicide on the train tracks early Monday morning.

This is the first time that I haven’t been able to separate myself from the issue. Before it was easy to make excuses like “Oh it’s a Gunn issue..” or even the second time “Oh, it’s an upperclassmen issue..” but now it’s my school, my grade, and someone that I knew.

I think one of the hardest parts for me was the fact that I was so close but couldn’t do anything. We had morning practice on Monday, so while I was running stairs, he was walking to the train tracks. I remember going outside on the outside stairs that overlook that track and show a glimmer of where the train is and wondering why the train had been stopped. The idea of suicide never even crossed my mind.

Monday was tough, not going to lie. We didn’t find out who it was until around lunch and by then I had to go to a class that was taught by a teacher who had also had him. It felt unbelievable. I had seen him only a couple days ago. It’s hard to grieve the death of someone when you still remember the sound of their voice and remember the last time you saw them. It’s even tougher when you know there’s going to be a time when you can’t remember every detail of their face or what their favorite PMT drink was. I know that this is inevitable but it still feels unreal.

On Wednesday we had morning practice again. And even though I had prepared myself, I wasn’t ready. It was all to familiar. The same stairs, the same train whistle, it was a bit too much deja vu for me.

You know that this isn’t the first time this year that we’ve dealt with death. With Uncle, I was sad, but I was happy that he wasn’t in anymore pain and that he was in heaven. But this time there’s some different emotions. There’s frustration from not knowing why and knowing that I’m never going to get to know. There’s guilt even though I know that there’s nothing I could have done. There’s this inability to comprehend that I’m never seeing him again.

The school has been working it’s hardest to take care of its students. They’ve brought in a team of counselors and a plethora of therapy dogs. Most of my teachers have made it so that there is no pressure on the students. And I am so grateful that they are doing this.

I don’t really remember if you knew this student or not, but if you are also working through this: *virtual hug*

Asher Blue


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