5 years ago... RIP, Rach & thanks to the person who helped me...

It's been 5 years. Five gosh darn YEARS! I still can't get it out of my mind. The choices I made on October 3rd/4th of 2004...

There was lying, sneaking out, drinking, driving under the influence, all sorts of things I shouldn't have been doing at 13 years old. That's right - 13 years old. My parents didn't raise me that way. They raised me with manners and respect. However, I looked up to these people. We played soccer together, we had some mutual friends. They were older than me and allowed me to join their group. Don't go thinking they were bad influences, though. They never told me I had to drink or do anything like that. Don't you dare blame them. In fact, Joel was telling me that I probably shouldn't be drinking - he knew I was too young, but Rachel and I begged him to let us go to the party with him. It was an adventure. She was older much older than me as well (well, not so much as I was about to turn 14.. ) but she could drive. She was supposed to be our "designated" driver. But what harm could a few drinks be? I mean, really.. just one or two couldn't have done any damage, could it?

Well that night I had a bad feeling, but I didn't want to seem silly... I wanted to act older than me - like I fit in there with all those senior kids. I was a freshman, after all.. and how often did a freshman get invited to the party of older people.
Rachel had me holding her keys for her, just in case something happened and she shouldn't drive.. they were going to let me (who was so bad at driving that I had previously backed his car into a mailbox) drive instead - bad idea in itself. Well, Rach wasn't in the BEST condition to be driving, but she seemed fairly cognizant like she'd be able to make it home. She asked me for her keys, and I asked if she was sure she was okay to drive. Joel put his arm around me and squeezed - he wanted some "us" time, I had assumed. Feeling kind of special, I tossed her the keys and said she could drive the car home since the party was at a sketch place, but Joel and I would take a cab so we could talk.. hah. I mean... we didn't have sex or anything.. but you know... we hadn't had alone time in a while...
Anyway, our cab (I'm not even sure if it was a cab.. he called someone and paid them to pick us up, I was a little too .. tipsy.. to really know) followed behind her driving for a while until she took an unexpected turn. We didn't know what she was doing, but kind of assumed that maybe she was stopping at a gas station or something. I called her but had to response... but when you're 13 and alone in a car with a cute senior, are you really going to care that much? I don't really remember everything that happened between then.
For some reason I used to think the party was ridiculously far away.. in some kind of mountains or something, but it definitely wasn't... it wasn't in the mt pleasant area.. I guess I thought that because I was young and had never had a friend die - had never had that shock. They told me she ran off the road and went down a hill. My 13 year old mind thought she went down some insane mountain or something. I was just in such shock that my thinking wasn't straight.

I've replayed that night in my head a lot... why didn't we make the person driving us follow her? Why did I even give her the keys? I didn't know any better, right? Wrong, my parents always taught me that drinking and driving was wrong. They were very direct about that. I wish I had listened better, though. I wish I knew lying was stupid - sneaking out was wrong, and drinking at such a young age led to horrid decision.

Anyway... I don't really remember getting home or how I got into the house without my parents noticing. I do, however, remember finding out. I didn't have a cell phone yet and they knew not to call my house at certain hours - my parents didn't really know about my friendship with them.. I mean, they know now. My mom knows I played soccer with them. She has no idea about that night, though. I kept my composure really well, I thought.

Joel showed up at school that morning before school started. I saw his car in the parking lot when my mom dropped me off and didn't know why he was ditching school. I started towards it once my mom was out of view and he was in tears. He could barely speak. I didn't comprehend what was going on. There was no way my best friend in the world was dead. I had two lives. My soccer friends life and my home/school life.. they didn't really know about each other. It was weird. But that's how it was. I couldn't let the people at school see me broken. They would have looked at me like a murderer. I wanted to leave so badly, but I somehow gathered some impeccable strenght and walked into school. I don't remember a thing I could have learned that day. I don't remember any conversation. I don't remember lunch, other than it was with Emily and Tori, both probably discussing parties they attended that weekend.

I do, however, remember the weeks that followed. I was really depressed. I found out that a friend of mine cut herself.. that it helped. I tried it. It worked. I still have some of the scars. A few of my friends knew that, but this is the first time I've publicly announced that. The scars, I think, are only noticable to those who know they're there. I remember that friend & I talking about it and how we knew it was wrong but couldn't really stop. I want to think we promised each other we'd try.. and I did for a while,, but it was kind of an addicting habit.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't turn to my family. I couldn't turn to their family - they probably hated me. Joel and I drifted apart so badly when that happened... in January his family finally moved back to SC.. they had to get away from the place that stole Rachel. From me, probably.

I don't know what made me think of her, but I turned to a teacher. She was relatively young (hah, sorry if you see this) and seemed like she was trustworthy. I started e-mailing her. Really crappy emails. The details were skewed, and I was just really confused. I never saved the emails, which makes me sad because I'd love to see them & her responses.. they helped me for a long time. Part of the reason I tried to stop punishing myself. I may have been a part of what happened, but I couldn't have been the entire reason. I still have a hard time not blaming myself. My brain tells me that I may have been able to prevent it, but it wasn't all my fault. My heart is a mess and tells me I killed her. I let her die.

Anyway, that teacher.. she was a lot more help than she could ever know. I slowly came out of my depression. I even allowed myself to make a new friend - to put down my wall a bit and let someone in. And I still don't know if this was her or not, but one day I was called to guidance - they told me that a teacher was worried about me and they asked to see my arms. The saw my scars and told my parents. It terrified my parents. First their daughter is a recovering anorexic, now she's cutting her wrists... I'm pretty sure they weren't sure what to do with me at that point. They didn't know what I was capable of doing to myself. They didn't understand why I did what I did - they guidance department didn't know why I did what I did. There was only one other teacher at Robinson who could have turned me into guidance - only one other teacher who ever saw me do what I did... I know it was one of them, but I'm not sure if I'll ever know who - and the only reason I would is to thank them.. so thank you for helping realize it was a bigger problem than I thought.. for helping me recover.

November was when Joel and I were having the most problems, the most fights. We knew we had to talk to each other because we were the only people who truly knew everything. We couldn't talk, though. We just couldn't. I remember the day before Thanksgiving break I was in a lot of pain and just couldn't handle going to 4th period. That teacher and I hated each other (but totally love each other now... she's definitely been a rock for me over the years)... I just didn't want to deal with an argument - and to me that seemed like it was all that ever happened. Some friends offered to skip class and talk, so I ditched class and got caught & got into a lot of trouble for it. I made up a silly excuse for why. She could see past that but couldn't get me to tell her. I knew she cared, but I didn't want anyone to care. I wanted to be left alone to be miserable. At the same time, though, I wanted to feel happy again - to live life the way that I would have if my best friend were still here.

I'm not sure when I finally began to perk up. I definitely owe a lot to that initial teacher - the one who got me out of that initial slump. I also owe quite a bit to that crazy 4th period teacher who has been there for me ever since she was able to break down my barrier... somewhere around March of my freshman year. I don't think I've ever told as much about myself to anyone before them or after them. It's weird. I mean, my best friends know a lot about me. Nearly everything. But they don't know much about the accident. They didn't know about why I was hurting, they just knew I was.

I know I've been doing a decent job of telling the story so far, but this blog is so incredibly long and emotionally stressful that I don't even know where to go from here.
I guess if that first teacher were reading this I would say thank you.. thanks for putting up with those ridiculous e-mails... thanks for responding in the first place .. thanks for wanting to talk, to be there for me, to let me ramble about whatever stupidity I was rambling about. Thanks for not just being for me then, but for all the years following. For watching over me the next two years you were at Robinson and for keeping in touch since you left Jrob and I left for college. Sometimes I think it's weird that a teacher knew so much about me, but after thinking about it, you're not a teacher. You're probably the most kind hearted and genuine person I've ever met. God put you in my life for a reason, and I'm really grateful that He did because I don't know what would have happened to me if I never met you.

So all that's left to say is Rest in Peace, Rachel... you were the best friend a person could ever have. We were so young when this all happened. You didn't get a chance to graduate high school, go to college, get married, have children.. you never even got to have sex ((for those who didn't know her, she would laugh at that!))! You're missing out on the best parts of life, and it's the fault of all of us - we knew better. We really did. I got to graduate high school, go to prom, etc. I'm at your dream college living the life we both wanted (except a change of major, but you know that) And I can only hope you're proud of me for coming so far rather than angry for cutting your time short. I love you babygirl and can't believe it's been 5 whole years. Five years! Just know I'm always thinking about it.. October 4th 2004 will always stay in my head. I mean, really.. who the heck parties on a SUNDAY?? What were we thinking.. why were we even friends with those kids? But at least I can be assured that Joel's with you now. It was so hard for me when he was in that accident last year. When that idiot hit him. He was all I had left of you, and I think that's why I was holding on so tight. I hope I didn't suffocate him. I hate that he couldn't talk to me. We had gotten so close the year before his suicide. I feel like I should have seen it coming... but I'm trying to be finished with the blame game. I just want to move on. I want to remember the good times, the bad times that led to funny stories and inside jokes, our teams wins, losses, our random trips to football games and all that jazz. I wish I would have met you earlier or known you longer.. but my memories are going to last a lifetime and I can promise you that I'll never forget the choices made & what came from them!!