"You would have died."

I got a sudden, ungodly pain in my side one day in 2015. It was completely out of the blue. It took the ER 6 hours to find the cyst but then I was referred to a surgeon. He wanted to wait until after the holidays to remove my spleen (it was around December 12th at this point) but something in my gut told me that wasn't a good idea. I asked him to take it out sooner. About 5 days later they told me that the cyst was bigger than they originally thought and was the size of a softball.

Then after surgery, the surgeon came in and told me, "It's a good thing we took it out when we did. If that cyst had burst, you would have died." 

This happened only a few years ago, but it will stick with me until I'm gone. Always trust your gut.

"You deserve it."

My husband was emotionally cruel to me, and then he had an affair. I went to stay with a friend and I asked my husband for a divorce. 

This "friend" told me, "You're too much. No wonder he treats you bad. You deserve it."

Believing this to be true, I went back to my husband. I was a horrible person who deserved to suffer, right?

I got back, he got drunk. He told me that the next time I want to die, he won't stop me because I'm worthless, I'm fat, and he could always do better. He reminded me that even my family thinks that I'm stupid, and they don't want me. 

I live in utter isolation because I don't have real friends, and I feel like I deserve his abuse.

"I missed you so much."

A few years ago, I started dating a guy. He was amazing in the beginning, and we stayed together for about six months.

After a little while, he started to become distant. I eventually managed to get him to confess that he kissed another girl. I gave him the opportunity to explain himself, but we ended up breaking things off. 

During our last month together, I suffered a traumatic injury that prevented me from walking correctly, and gave me severe physical PTSD. I couldn't stand to be touched in the slightest, and the sounds of things crashing or hitting made me flinch and become anxious. The want for death to come was an impending thought I couldn't get rid of.

After he and I broke up, we ended up being paired together for projects in two of our classes. Even though his current girlfriend was against him even speaking to me, he slowly began to see my cracks, and eventually I told him about how I had nearly attempted suicide and how there were many times I wanted nothing more than to die. My grades had dropped dramatically, my attitude hardened, and I was almost a completely different person.

After I confided in him, he told me, "I missed you so much. And to even think I almost lost you forever, just hurts too much." 

Those words struck me simply because I didn't believe at the time that I had anyone with me who cared. Even him, who stayed in the shadows and watched me get worse and worse.

It was one of the saddest and worst times because I knew deep down, he was the reason I almost died. But he's also the reason I'm still alive.

That's what stuck with me.

"It's all your fault!"

When I was six, my mom and I were planning to visit my extended family in another state, and I couldn't wait. I was particularly excited to see my great grandmother, who I was especially close to and who I was named after. 

When the day finally came, my mom and I got on a plane, and when we arrived, we were told to go right to the hospital.

The day before we were scheduled to arrive, my great grandma was so excited for our visit, and she tried to go to the store to buy ingredients to cook all my favorite dishes. She ended up having a stroke in the car, and she hit a tree. 

I sat there in the ICU, looking at my great grandma, covered in tubes and completely brain dead. What was supposed to be a happy reunion turned into a traumatic moment to say goodbye.

As I exited the room, her daughter (my grandmother) shouted in front of the entire family, "It's all your fault!"

It's been 29 years, and when this memory sneaks in, I'm still reduced to heartbreaking sobs. I know it wasn't my fault, but it was so horrible and cruel, and it's what stuck with me. 

"He's going to hell. Get over it."

My father was absent basically my whole life, but at the beginning of 2015, we started going to counseling, in an attempt to work on our relationship. 

On May 28th of that year, my 15-year-old brother and best friend was accidentally struck and killed by a train. 

My mother called my father to tell him that I wouldn't be able to go to counseling the next day, since I hadn't slept all night while I waited for the coroner to confirm that the body was in fact my brother's.

After my mom yelled at my father for fifteen minutes, she handed me the phone. The only words that slipped out of his mouth were, "He committed suicide. It's his fault. He's going to hell, so just get over it."

That was the last time I really talked to my father. 

It'll be two years in May, and those words have always been and always will be echoing in the back of my brain. I know that my brother didn't die by suicide. But I can still hear those words. "He's going to hell. Get over it." 
 

"I wish you had been more observant..."

When I was thirteen, my friend sent me a text telling me that she loved me for everything I've ever done for her, then sent me a voice memo saying, "You were the best person I've ever met, but I wish you had been more observant and noticed my scars. I'm sorry about this, you treated me amazingly well." And then she committed suicide. 

I'm sixteen now, and I can't ever take those words out of my head when I see scars on someone else. To this day, I'm much more observant and open eyed to everyone. 

"I didn't know what to do with you..."

When I was 18, I moved a few states away from home to be with my boyfriend. Four years later, my dad was sick in the hospital. I flew home to be with him, and he passed away days later. 

I returned home to my boyfriend, and we started arguing about something stupid. He looked at me and said, "I was going to break up with you before your dad died, but then I didn't know what to do with you, so I just stayed."

I felt my heart break a second time, and have never felt such pain from someone I loved saying something so awful. 

We broke up soon after, and I have never been happier. 

But those words still echo in my mind when I think about my dad.

Disappointed.

My mother once told me that my father who is deceased would be disappointed in the person I've become, because I am transgender.

"It should've been you."

When I was 13, my mom died of AIDS in my arms.

When I went to console my crying aunt - even though I was torn apart myself - my aunt looked at me and said, "It should've been you." 

I will never forget how I felt. I will never forget those words.
 

"No one would care if you died."

I remember so clearly the day my brother went with me to the bus stop, five years ago. He had been upset that morning, and he took it out on me. We got into a fist fight, and when I finally hit back, he lost it. 

He told me to put a plastic bag on my head and go play in the street. He said, "No one would care if you died. They'd be better off without you." 

The events of that one morning led to my years of depression and anxiety. And finally my suicide attempt. 

To this day, when I get sad, I remember what he said. That everyone is better off without me.