The First Time I... #HAWMC

I would like to tell you about the first time I told someone that I wanted to die.

I know its a subject that people don't want to read about however depression strikes at any age.

I was 7 or 8 years old. I don't remember the exact time however my mother was gone somewhere and wasn't going to be home until the next day. My mother rented out the downstairs as an In-law unit and the person was home.

I waited for a little while before I went to give her the mail that came that day. She usually picked it up after her dinner. I was lonely, I ate dinner by myself. Maybe it was Denty Moore Beef Stew (cold from a can) or a frozen hospital meal, that my mother brought home from work the week before. I don't really remember.

I picked up the mail and knocked at the door. She opened the door and her dog came to say "Hi!", and the cat she had came around for a pet then walked to her perch by the window and sat down to clean herself.

"Here's your mail Jen." I say after I sit down to accommodate the dog wanting to be close to me.

"Thank you sprout! How was your day?" She said clicking her retainer back in her mouth and put the unopened mail next to a glass.

"OK, I guess."

"Just OK? You look a little down to me."

"Maybe. Hey Jen, do you believe that heaven is a place where you go when you die?"

"Umm, not really sure what you mean?"

"I want to die, Jen. I want to go away from this world."

"Oh Amanda," She comes and gives me a hug, "You shouldn't think that, have you told your mom?"

I shake my head no.

"Your dad?"

Again I shake my head no.

"Oh dear, this life is a rough one for you." Jen was still holding me, and then I started to cry.

After a few minutes I got up, thanked her and went to my room. Set my alarm and went to bed.