Writing this final piece for The Whirlwind reminds me of writing suicide notes.
I’ve used my laptop to write both: this column was typed upon its keys, and many scrapped drafts of goodbyes have been drafted on its screen. This one article, a rite of passage for graduating senior journalists on our staff, explores each person’s experiences and reflections as they near the end of high school. It’s the writer’s lasting statement before they move on to a different life. Ironically, suicide notes hold the same meaning for me.
Reflecting on my high school years, I can think of a single fact to describe my experience. Throughout, I had one persistent, never-changing thought. In 2021, I can count the number of days I thought about ending my life: 365 days. It was the same in 2022, and 2023, and most likely will stay that way throughout 2024.
Each time a thought circulated through my head, whether it be an invasive suggestion or a panic-induced breakdown, I usually would circle back to several key questions. “When I die, what will I leave to everyone? How will I leave my mark? How do I want my friends, my family, my life to frame my existence?”
It’s the writer’s last mark upon a person, group, or the world. It can be written on anything they wish, whether it be reflection, explanations, or wishes for those they leave it for. And, just like the personal column, they are so damn hard to write.
I would try to write suicide notes constantly. Whether it was on my notes app while pretending to text, scribbling in the margins of my writings and sketches, scrawled desperately on every inch and surface of any material I could easily hide or destroy.
They were always terrible. Each felt blank and lifeless, as though someone had taken everything I wanted to say and drowned it in my own sorrows. Letters meant to thank teachers for their endless support and love sounded hollow. Sentences for dear friends felt hopelessly detached. Words for my family were nothing more than grouped lines on paper.
In the end, I always came to the same conclusion: If I want to leave my impression on others and show the care and admiration I hold in every nook and cranny of my being, I need to exist within it. Each breath I take should communicate the emotion I want to bestow on those I care about. My life, no matter how dark it becomes, should be focused on continuing to find who is important to me, who is part of my journey.
I’ve learned that I need to live my life as an open letter rather than a forgotten note.
