What’s a moment from your teenage years you’re still processing as an adult?

The Immediate Aftermath of Guilt

My ex-girlfriend took her own life because of me. At least that’s what I thought until I started looking into her relationship with her sister. I broke up with my girlfriend because I hated her family. When we first met, my girlfriend was the sweetest girl I ever met.

She was the type to sit outside a church and write poems about strangers who pass by to make you feel like you were on top of the world, even on your worst days. So, when we went on a date for a picnic beside a waterfall, and she refused to take off her jumper, I assumed she was just insecure or something.

I didn’t want to pressure her, so I just reminded her that whatever she did was her decision, and she was beautiful no matter what. After doing this, I put my arm around her, and her face contorted like she was cringing or something, but it wasn’t in a disgusted way, more like, “I’m in pain,” sort of way.

I pulled back and asked if I had accidentally pulled her hair to hurt her, and she shook her head.

No, it’s not you.

It’s…

She then looked down at the ground while her mouth was half opened, like there was still more she wanted to say. I just looked at her with the most loving eyes I possibly could and put my hand on her lower back as if to say, “I’m not going anywhere.”

This made her smile, and that’s when she finally showed me her arms. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen. Her skin was covered in cuts and injuries, all at the hands of her parents.

A rage boiled my blood. I simply couldn’t fathom that someone had been hurting my baby girl. So, once the shock wore off, I asked if she wanted to sleep over at mine. We were in junior year, so my mom was still iffy about her coming to my bedroom.

But, I knew that if I explained things to her, she would understand. Luckily, Sarah agreed. And when we got there, she explained everything. She said it so clearly, and I remember being super proud of her. Immediately, my mom lunged at her for a hug and insisted that she could stay as long as she needed.

I guess my mom noticed how surprised I was at her willingness to host. That’s when she sat down at the table and did a long drawn out sigh. Turns out her own parents had been extremely abusive, too.

During all those years where my mom felt helpless and alone, she always wished she had an adult figure who understood, who’d keep secrets for her. Now she was happy to be that person for Sarah. Over the next few days, it became very clear that Sarah was going to stay for a lot longer than a few days.

My mom had given her the guest bedroom and even bought her lavender bed sheets, her favorite color, and a new wardrobe of clothes. Whenever Sarah felt like a burden, I made sure to reassure her that she doesn’t need to earn love or care because she was already enough.

Every time she heard that, it made her blush really hard and hug me super tight, and I’d fall in love with her all over again. After a few weeks, she started referring to her room as my bedroom instead of the guest room and felt comfortable enough to pour her own water and cook meals late at night, but that’s when things took a turn.

She would get mad at me for hanging out with my friends once every two weeks when we’d all meet up and go to Chili’s. Sarah was pretty closed off and didn’t really have anyone other than me and my mom.

So, at first, I tried to empathize. I tried to encourage her to make friends who enjoy poetry as much as she does, but she never did. That’s when her punishments began. Whenever I’d come home from seeing my friends or even just going on a walk without her, I’d catch her in the bathroom self injuring herself.

For context, this was never something she told me about before. Plus, it only happened when I did something to make her upset. Back then, I was just a dumb 16-year-old with the intelligence of a chicken nugget.

To me, the solution was simple: Stop doing anything outside of Sarah. But it seemed like nothing was ever enough for her. Even if I texted my male friends about the homework or wanted to spend one-on-one time with my mom, it was always the same outcome: Tissue paper soaked in red that I’d find in the bathroom.

It got to the point where I even started self-injuring without telling her, of course, and started losing my will to live. Then came my breaking point. I was studying for exams in the after school study club, one she refused to go to.

When I came home, instead of seeing my once loving and kind girlfriend and hugging her, I was greeted with Sarah pulling down her pants and showing me that she had put my name all over her legs. It was so horrifying that I had to break up with her and told her she had to leave immediately.

Even my mom agreed and carried Sarah to the car to drive her home. The days following were awful. I felt somewhat relieved, but mainly guilty. I started to believe that her family situation was my fault, that I wasn’t forgiving enough.

As I went to unblock her at 3:00 a.m. to apologize, I saw it: A text from her sister. It was short and brutal.

Sarah took her life tonight. I hope you’re happy.

I dropped my phone. I couldn’t breathe. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Then I woke up my mom, showed her the text, and we both just sat on my bed crying for hours.

I kept thinking it was my fault. If I hadn’t kicked her out, if I’d been more patient, if I’d gotten her professional help instead of trying to fix everything myself, the guilt has been eating me alive for weeks now.

I haven’t gone back to school. I barely leave my room. My mom’s worried sick about me, but I can’t seem to snap out of it. Sarah’s dead because of me. That’s all I can think about. I’ve been a total zombie since Sarah died. I just lay in bed all day, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment of our relationship in my head.

My mom tried to get me to eat, but I couldn’t stomach more than a few bites of toast. I lost like 20 lbs in two weeks. My clothes hung off me like I was a scarecrow or something. My friends kept texting and calling, but I ignored them all.

What was I supposed to say?

Hey guys, my ex-girlfriend unal alived herself because I kicked her out. How’s your day going?

Yeah, right. I couldn’t face anyone. The guilt was crushing me. About 3 weeks after Sarah died, my mom finally put her foot down. She came into my room one morning and opened all the blinds.

The sunlight felt like needles in my eyes after spending so long in the dark.

Enough, she said.

You need to shower, eat a real meal, and at least try to rejoin the living.

I wanted to argue, but I didn’t have the energy. So, I dragged myself to the bathroom and stood under the hot water for like half an hour. It was the first time I’d really felt anything in weeks.

When I got out, my mom had made pancakes, my favorite, and I actually managed to eat a whole stack. Small victories, I guess. That afternoon, I checked my email for the first time since everything happened.