It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn’t heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore’s stick house.
There are some days I don’t want to be here anymore. I know, sometimes, we might all feel that way. What makes us just go through with it, though? Do we really think that people don’t care that much about us? I tell my boyfriend everyday that I love him, the negativeness he spouts off about life. I send him messages while he’s at work; I jump up and hug him, trying to beat our cat, when he walks through the door. I do all of this because I worry that there might be one day when he feels that he just doesn’t want to be here anymore.
I know he’s not always as chipper as I seem that I am. He gets so discouraged about the least fundamental things that I just leave him alone for a little bit to build his little farm. I don’t know if I’m really not supposed to bother him, though. So, I continue to shove all of the love that I can into his face. I worry that he might make the same decision my aunt did one day. I don’t want to be the one that might find him.
“Hello Eeyore,” said Pooh.
“Hello Pooh. Hello Piglet,” said Eeyore, in a Glum Sounding Voice.
“We just thought we’d check in on you,” said Piglet, “because we hadn’t heard from you.
Suicide is in the top ten death rates the United States.
Eeyore was silent for a moment. “Well, I don’t know, to be honest. Are any of us really okay? That’s what I ask myself. All I can tell you is that right now I feel really rather sad, and alone, and not much fun to be around, which is why I haven’t bothered you. You wouldn’t want to waste your time hanging out with someone would you now.”
My mom went over to my aunts, her sister’s house, having not heard from her for a few days. She had been living with my grandma. Growing up, my grandma had what I learn, emphysema. Her needing an oxygen concentrator is really all I remember her with, yet she still trucked on like life was normal; attending everything we participated in at school, showering us with love and glitter.
I can talk about when we drove down to Tennessee to be with Grandma Millie when my Grandpa Bud passed. Then, when it was my Grandma Norma’s time, who I was just speaking about, I like to remember all of her good times. I can talk about when all of my grandparents and elderly relatives have passed, remembering all that they loved, taught me. I find it the hardest to talk about how my aunt left us. She wasn’t supposed to. It wasn’t her time. I had hoped she would be around when I had graduated high school; be at my house warming. I had thought she’d be there if I had ever found my person I was supposed wander upon one day, not knowing that I would. She would have been with me through all of my adult paths in life. But no; she decided not to be with us anymore and her sister had to be the one to find her.
Pooh looked at Piglet, Piglet looked at Pooh, and they both sat down, one on either side of Eeyore.
Eeyore looked at them in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends. And true friends don’t care if someone is feeling sad, or alone, or not much fun to be around. True friends are there for you anyway. And so here we are.”
“Oh,” said Eeyore. “Oh.”
I’ve read that there can be various warning signs of suicide. People can start talking about wanting to die or even begin looking for a way to kill themselves. There can be days when we start talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose. There can be days when we might just talk about feeling trapped. The increasing use of alcohol or drugs is an indication, too. Sleeping too little or too much, showing rage or talking about seeking revenge and displaying extreme mood swings are more indications.
And the three of them sat there in silence, and while Pooh and Piglet said nothing at all; somehow, Eeyore started to feel a very tiny little bit better.
Because Pooh and Piglet were there.
I wish I could have been there for my aunt. I wish she would have talked to me, as sixteen being such an intelligent age. I am a tad more grown up now, though not perfect; I sometimes feel I can understand better. I will be Piglet or Pooh to anyone’s Eeyore, even if some ears or a hug is all that that is needed.