Lee-Ann - Letters to Aly: Surviving My BFFs Suicide

Copyright 2013 by Samaritans of Singapore

All rights reserved.

Published in Singapore by Epigram Books.

www.epigrambooks.sg

Cover design by Lydia Wong

National Library Board, Singapore

Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Lee-Ann, author.

Letters to Aly : surviving my BFFs suicide /

Lee-Ann. Singapore : Epigram Books, 2013.

pages cm

ISBN : 978-981-07-6811-9 (paperback)

ISBN : 978-981-07-6812-6 (ebook)

1. Bereavement in adolescence - Personal narratives.

2. Grief in adolescence - Personal narratives.

3. Teenagers - Suicidal behavior.

4. Teenagers and death. I. Title.

BF724.3.G73

155.9370835 -- dc23 OCN855728567

First Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

It has been more than two years since 30 April 2009, when my best friend and schoolmate Alyessa jumped to her death. She was just 16.

I have always kept diaries of some sort. Writing has always been my release whenever thoughts get too jumbled up in my head. When Aly died, I started writing to her whenever the feelings got too intense.

More often than not, I would plug in and listen to a list of songs as I wrote. The lyrics of the songs inspired the titles in my letters. Sometimes it was the song title.

As I look through all the pieces and letters, I am taken aback at how sad I was thenso, so sad. The person writing them seems like a stranger to me now. But I am glad I managed to pen my thoughts because reading these letters has helped me remember her much better. I would not want to forget a single part of the tough journey. I was six feet under my mountain of emotions. Writing everything down made things seem more real.

I had known Aly all my life. We were childhood friends. She was like a sister to me and I loved her. She was like my personal diary. When she was around, my diaries were full of the fun times we had together. There were no sad entries because I poured my heart out to her in person or through texting. She was my confidante and best friend. She always knew how to make me feel better. When she left, I felt like she took a part of me.

In my letters I had written over and over again that I wanted to be happy but I did not know how. Actually I was chasing something abstract. There is no key ingredient to being happy; weve just got to adjust our perspective.

I still flounder sometimes whenever I think about the long months without Aly. I feel guilty for being okay on most days and missing her only when times are bad. But Ive also learnt to keep her in a special place that I can visit.

This book is precious to me because all these letters were written when I missed Aly. Most were written in tears. I feel exposed and naked at the thought of publishing them. So why do I still want to do this? Maybe it is a bit ambitious but I want to reach out to people who are going through the same pain. It feels like something I need to do. It is ironic how angry I was with my mum for invading my privacy when she read some of my letters before. Yet here I am, offering to bare myself to strangers.

Looking back now, I can see why Mum was behaving unreasonably. She was just trying to protect me; she was afraid of losing me. Weve always had a love-hate relationship. She tried hard to discipline me during my rebellious phase as an adolescent. We were trying to change and build a more trusting relationship when Alys death happened. Whatever we had built disintegrated and I felt suffocated when she became more protective.

She started letting go a little when I went for regular counselling sessions at the Samaritans of Singapore (SOS). Maybe she took some comfort in knowing that I was getting professional help in coping with my grief. I am in no position to dish out advice for other parents, but I do hope that they will bear in mind that every child is different. It is tough to know when to let go and when to hold your child close for comfort. Sometimes the survivors of a suicide do not even know themselves. I think the best that one can do is to give the constant assurance that one will not feel bad or too tired to listen.

Perhaps someone may find comfort in reading my letters because they are as real as real can get. Its not like some self-help book; I wont be offering you seven great steps to heal yourself or get over your grief. I am handing you my diary and maybe after being in my shoes for a bit, you may discover something about yourself. Or maybe it may make you laugh.

To those who still feel the raw pain, I hope you will find some hope and peace in knowing that after two, three years or more, you will feel better. Not over it, not completely healed, but different. I do.

x
Lee-Ann

PS. I apologise for the coarse language used. I was not brought up that way. Often I resorted to swearing on paper because I could not do it face-to-face. Reading through the letters and seeing the frequent use of expletives makes me feel quite ashamed of myself. But it was how I felt and I left them in because that was the real me then. I hope that parents and teachers will understand.

Aly,

I was on my way to school for our E. Maths exam when RJ called. I didnt know what to think. He told me you tried to find him last night to say your last goodbye?! My heart dropped. RJ told me that you probably did it. Did you?

I cant remember what else he said, it was all a blur I dont even know what I said to him.

Then John texted, asking if I knew what had happened to you. I started panicking. It didnt feel right. I called your sister. Alexis told me that you were gone. That was when I broke down in the MRT. All I could think of was that time in Jan when you tried jumping. I had flashbacks of myself running around trying to find you, to stop you from jumping, and then the police came and you freaked out. It was a mess

Why did you have to go? I dont believe this!

Youre my best friendthe closest Ive got to someone and now youre gone! Impossible! I dont believe it! I refuse to believe it.

What the fuck?! How can you just drop everything and leave? It does not make sense. I was so scared I couldnt fucking focus on my E. Maths exam.

I need to know now that you arent gone. I need to talk to you now!

My mum picked me up from school after the exams. As soon as I got into the car, I could see that she was very anxious. When I asked her what was wrong, she just shook her head and said, Im going to bring you to see Aly. I should have felt relieved but instead my heart sank. I was going to see you but everything was not okay. I had a bad feeling in my gut.

When we reached home, Mum parked the car, took a deep breath and leaned over to hug me. Alys gone! she said softly. Nothing sank in. But I was so scared. She told me to change into jeans and a plain shirt and we drove silently to your house.

Everyone was there. Alexis showed me the letters you wrote. My eyes quickly scanned the letterslines of apologies and how it was something you had to doa callingpeace. You included a goodbye to me. Nothing made sense. Everyone looked too bewildered and confused, some crying, others not. I asked to see your mum. I went up the stairs to your room. Your bed was left unmade. Your mum got off the phone after talking to someone from your school. She called your name before bursting into tears. Then she hugged your pillow and wailed with so much anguish I fled the room.

I was in a daze. I barely remember the car ride to the place where your funeral was held. But when we all reached the place, RJ called me and I stayed in the car park and talked to him. He was frantic; he told me he saw you that night. He told me about how he sent you home and then you ran away again because you did not want to go home. He gave up chasing you because he didnt know what else to do.