It's been a while since I've written... So this post is gonna be just thoughts and catching up. I apologize for the sporadicness...
A couple days ago I was sitting in the front room of my apartment with my roommates. We glanced out the window and discovered our apartment building was surrounded by cop cars and police tape. No one knew what was going on. There was no ambulance, and what looked like a Bishopric in suits showed up and walked passed our apartment. While we were sitting there debating about what was going on, our doorbell rung and we opened it. A group of men with a full body bag had accidently hit it on their way down the stairs.
Over the next couple of days, details came about the incident. The guy who had committed suicide lived in the apartment above mine. He had shot himself in the head. His roommates found him, hence no ambulance. They knew he was dead when they found him.
The guy left a note about why he did it. He said he was sick of people calling him gay, sick of being called chubby and he had been having problems with a girl.
Hearing all of this broke my heart and shook me up. It was tragic to think of someone feeling so alone, like things we’re so terrible that the only way to get out was to take your own life.
When I found out he committed suicide, my first thought was maybe he had been gay. Then thoughts crossed my mind about bullying. I know that I joke around a lot with people and like to have fun. I could never live with myself though if my bullying unknowingly led someone to do something so tragic.