junior

I think too much of myself sometimes.
I've been stretched too thin.
Biggest lesson I've learned this year: you just can't do everything.
I'm so lucky to have the family I have. I've been thinking a lot lately about coincidences. The more I think about them, the less I believe in them.There are some things that simply cannot be explained just my 'the whim of things'. By being stretched too thin, I have realized that I truly cannot do it by myself.

It was two days ago that I had reached my breaking point. I was supposed to be face painting to earn money for my humanitarian trip to Ecuador, but I had too much homework and too much obligations in church and for Peer Leadership Team and for DECA and my school's last football game was that night. I was the definition of overwhelmed. Instead of dealing with it all, I just went home and cried. Pathetic, right? My mom finally came home and gave me a hug and asked me what the heck I was doing. My dad finally came home and gave me a hug and laughed and offered to give me a blessing. I have never gone from such extremities in emotion before. One minute I was shaking and tired and stressed, and the next I was calm and ready to take on whatever needed to be done. I am so thankful for my dad, the gospel, and the fact that I was able to face paint, eat dinner, do two math assignments, and write a four-page paper in the space of 3 hours. For with God, nothing is impossible.

Braeden

About two weeks ago, a sophomore boy at my school committed suicide. It really took its toll on me and the other students in my school. I attended his funeral, and cried my way through it. I'm not sure why I wanted to  be there so badly - perhaps to make up for my lack of emotion at my teacher's funeral in August? I'm not sure, but I tried to find a way then to untangle my troubled heart and thoughts.

Still at the service, still sitting in the pew with my best friend's family - I found a piece of paper and a pen and began writing:

His death? It's actually my fault. I recognize Braeden from this picture - and he is just a face I saw at school.  How is it that I can pass so many people without giving them a second thought? If I had slowed my pace, and maybe took the time to get to know that face I wouldn't be sitting in a funeral that wasn't supposed to happen. How many other Braedens are out there? In my classes? In my ward? In my home? I have become so selfish and have grown accustomed to only worrying about myself. I cry to myself over boys, while someone else - someone close to me- might be crying themselves to sleep over the thought of  ending their life. It's amazing how the focus can change within the blink of an eye- the pull of a trigger. And it has to take an innocent life to do that? These thing are preventable, and it makes me sick to when people are suddenly asking, "Who was this kid?" - especially when I'm the one with those words on my lips. Should it really take a death to make me want to do more for others? Should it take a death for me to start paying attention to the quiet kids in class? Should it take a death to realize that we all truly belong to each other?

The only way to prevent a suicide isn't by putting uplifting posters on the walls at school... it's by the choices that are essential to make now to love, respect, and uplift those nameless faces around us. You just never know.