This late edition of Mental Storage is dedicated to a young woman who shamelessly requested that I write a post about her. I normally don't take requests (for free), but I'll make an exception because it's her birthday. Plus, I owe her.
The year was 1999 when we first met. I was Obama before Barack was Obama: Class president two years in a row and doing double duty that second year with SGA President added to my title. It was like being President of the United States AND Canada. Take that Obama! Slacker!
So anyway I was out walking the halls being...presidential (I guess) and this girl stopped me and asked me to sign her jacket. I didn't know who the hell she was or why she was walking around asking upperclassmen to sign her jacket, but nothing feeds my ever-hungry ego like a request for an autograph. I signed it with the moniker that I like to pretend I came up with and no one else in the history of time has ever thought to use:
'The One and Only'
Ordale J. Allen
She was so captivated by my Sanskrit-like handwriting that we became friends immediately. One night, she called me severely sad and depressed. Perhaps she just wanted someone to lean on, or maybe she was just venting. Little did she know, I was a budding motivational speaker.
She told me that she thought about killing herself and I knew right away that whatever I said next had to consider the delicacy of the situation. When people are suicidal the slightest thing can inadvertently push them over the edge.
"I think you should kill yourself."
"Huh?"
"I support you. You're smart. If you've decided that death is for you, then go right away. Do not go gently into that goodnight. Run into that shit full speed!"
"What?"
"But if you're gonna do it, might I suggest going through the window? I say open your window, sit on the ledge facing the inside of your room and just fall backwards. That way you can think about all the shit that gets on your nerves on the way down without being distracted by the sight of the ground rushing toward you. But the fear of not knowing when you're gonna hit it might make you see your problems a bit differently. It's entirely possible that the minute that you realize that life wasn't so bad you'll probably slam into the ground. Either way, good luck."
It's really a tragedy that I let that talent go to waste. Anyway, a few months later it was her turn to help me out. The demands of the presidency (and a crappy home life) got the best of me and it started to show in my schoolwork. Actually, that's not true. You have to go to school in order for stress to show up in your schoolwork.
According to one administrator, I had 13 absences and 24 tardies by the middle of the third quarter. Oh, and that was JUST for that quarter, not for the year. "If you're late or absent one more time we're gonna...blah blah blah." They just don't train school administrators like they used to. When someone is depressed it's ill-advised to threaten them with expulsion from the very place they consider to be the source of their stress and depression. "One more shanking and we're kicking you out of this prison."
The next morning my alarm clock went off as usual. I didn't hear it. My backup alarm clock went off. I didn't hear that either. But I did hear my loud phone ringing.
[Grumpily] "Who the hell is this?"
"This is your wake up call. Wake up. You have to go to school or you'll get put out."
"Goodbye."
"No, for real. Wake up."
"I'm up. Seriously. I'm up."
5 Minutes Later
[Grumpily] "Who the hell is this?"
"Okay seriously. Wake up. I'm gonna keep calling."
"I hate you."
"You could jump out the window."
"The house isn't tall enough. I'd just shatter something and then they'd roll me to school. I'm up."
This went on for the remainder of the school year, I believe. I didn't get expelled. I graduated. And for that...I thank the anonymous person who doesn't want me to use her name because she believes that somehow the government will track her if she puts her name on a blog or Google+ or Facebook. Little does she know, people like her are probably the ones that the government is looking at right now from a tree outside her apartment.
There's only one way to be safe...go out the window.
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