So everything was starting to look up. I'm gradually easing my parents into the whole "I'm joining the army!" announcement. I don't know when the final announcement will come, but I'll be sure to keep you posted. Then I was going to devote a post to how happy I was because today I went to play with/quasi-babysit these four kids today. It really was awesome.
But then I come back and find out that the Frenchman, the guy that tells solely me everything (in French), tried to commit suicide. He was in the hospital. And the sad thing is, people: had he succeeded, this would have been not the first but the SECOND time that someone that I was kind of close with and who had shared EVERYTHING with me and only me had offed themselves. And let me also tell you, people: three years after the first instance, the guilt STILL hasn't gone away. It's definitely something I think about every single day of my life.
I can't help but wonder why every single time I try to be kind and there for people, it always ends up going horribly wrong for me. I know I'm being very selfish by saying that, but let's think about it. Clearly my being friends with this guy and devoting the vast majority of my time to hearing him pour out his feelings and whatnot isn't making him happy, because otherwise he wouldn't have tried to kill himself. In fact, the only thing that's coming out of this is that I'm becoming less happy. And, G-d forbid, if he had succeeded, he'd be nothing and yet I'd be left with another dose of unbearable guilt for the rest of my life. But if I had just stayed the fuck away and not lent an ear, he would still be just as miserable and he'd probably still try to kill himself--but the difference is that in that instance, he'd still become nothing but I wouldn't have intolerable guilt.
G-d, that's a horrible thing for me to say.
My roommate and I were talking about this, and she was just kind of brushing it off and saying I shouldn't get so upset about it, that yeah it was a big deal but that I shouldn't be angry and I just wanted to yell at her, You don't know what it's like to see someone's coffin and think to yourself, "I didn't do enough to stop that."
Jesus, I'm sick of this shit. I don't want to talk to this person ever again, but I know that if his situation becomes worse because he no longer has a friendly ear, I'm going to feel even worse. Well, fuck. I wish I were a mean person.
Sorry to bother you two or three readers out there with all this heavy shit. Maybe you came here hoping to read some silly story about pudding, or how I yelled at someone in Hebrew....and I whip this crap out on you. I'm sorry. I'm not sure what my point is in putting this post out there and making what I'm saying public, but at the same time I feel like this shit needs to be said. You wonder what the reality of making aliyah is, and I have to tell you that this is what it is. No, I'm not saying that people are trying to kill themselves all the fuckign time when they make aliyah, and I'm not saying that this kind of shit doesn't happen in the U.S. or anywhere else abroad....but at the same time, I have to point out that this guy is in the same boat as me: stuck on this fucking kibbutz all the time, in a foreign country with absolutely no family, etc etc. And I know all that played a HUGE part in what made him upset. A huge part. So yeah, aliyah's great cos you get to do Zionist shit or whatever, but it also takes a huge toll on you emotionally. And sometimes no matter how much you love the idea of Israel, and no matter how much of an idealist you are, sometimes even that isn't enough to counter the horrible loneliness and stress and fear and whatever that comes with making aliyah. Just wanted to put that out there. Just something to think about.
Good night, y'all.
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