May 12, 2019
Dear Diary,
I gave the team jacket to Gia. Mom's out. I have Advil in front of me. Just wanted to write goodbye. Zero days left.
Love,
sweet p
~~~~~
After many quiet hours of pretending to be asleep, I see the sun rise. I look at my phone. Six-twenty-three. I've officially made it through another day of not sleeping. I wanted to so badly. I'm absolutely exhausted. But I'll be able to sleep tonight.
Brady is knocked out. Everybody is. Dance competitions are so tiring, but I can't seem to fall asleep for the life of me. People love to pull all-nighters, but it's devastating when you legitimately are forced to do three of them in a row because your brain cannot fall asleep.
"Good morning, everybody. How was your night?" Gianna asks and I pretend to groggily get up.
"Good," I lie, yawning.
"You guys need to get off the bus and go home. I will see you guys on Wednesday. Paris and Berkleigh, good job yesterday. We pulled a win!" Gianna remarks and we all applaud Berkleigh and Paris.
I stand up and I grab all of my bags and my phone. I'm the first one out. After me, Gia comes out. I need to give her my team jacket. But I can't do it here.
"Hey, Gia, do you wanna come over for lunch today? We haven't hung out in a bit," I ask, rubbing my eyes.
"Yeah, sure. That'd be fun. See you then!" Gia cheerily answers.
She lives across from me, so when I used to have the motivation to invite people over and do social things, we would do stuff all the time. Minus the eighth week when we had an argument. But we got over it.
One by one, we witness all of the kids and moms pile off the bus until Mom finally makes it out of the bus. She unlocks her car and I quickly open the trunk, putting my suitcase and dance bag in. The last time I'll ever be in Mom's car.
"I'm proud of you," Mom tells me as we pull out of the parking lot.
"Why?"
"Because you stood your ground and you performed in a costume that you knew would piss Abby off. You stuck up for yourself and your own body. That takes courage," Mom answers.
I'm not courageous. I'm a failure whose body isn't good enough. But I also don't care. I won't be here, so why should I care? But at the same time, I feel like I should make today the best day I can. Mom turns on the radio and instead of staying quiet, I sing along with her. I should make good memories.
"Let's go get some stuff at Target. Summer's coming up. You need some new clothes," Mom abruptly announces and she quickly exits Target.
Target used to be my favorite place. Now my favorite place is my bedroom because Mom will leave me alone. A couple of minutes later, we arrive at the red building everybody knows as Target. Last Target haul of my life.
Immediately, Mom goes to the inside Starbucks and orders some coffee. I decide on a pink drink and a cake pop. My favorite order from Starbucks. But it doesn't taste good. It doesn't taste like anything. It isn't bland or bad, it just doesn't have any life. But, I mean, breakfast for champions.
It's ironic that I'm shopping for clothes that will never see the light of day. As we start perusing the racks, nothing looks appealing to me. Nothing really looks cute or bad. Just meh. Clothes have no happiness. Shopping has no happiness.
"Press, come try this shirt on," Mom calls me over.
It's a peach gingham crop top. It's just a shirt. Mom's talking about it like it's the next best thing. I put on a smile and try it on. She likes it so I pretend to like it and I put it in the basket. This cycle continues until there are enough clothes in the basket. After that, Mom just starts shopping. Laundry detergent, deodorant, snacks. The usual.
"Go pick out something from the dollar section. Maybe like a craft, or something," Mom tells me and I speed walk to the dollar section.
The dollar section, over the years, has morphed into a five-dollar section, but it still has one-dollar items. I find this potted plant with a pot that I can color in with some crayons that will definitely break apart. I grab it and rush back to Mom, who's moved to the checkout line.
Once we checkout, we go back to the car with what should have been one bag turned into three bags. The last shopping spree is done. I don't deserve this amount of money being spent on me. Now is the last car ride to the apartment. More karaoke and more me being exhausted from not sleeping for three days.
By the time we get home, it's almost time for lunch. I decide to put on one of the new outfits that I have: a denim dress for lunch. I take my head out of the ponytail and I scroll on social media. My social media following has skyrocketed ever since it was announced I would be on Dance Moms.
Everybody looks so happy. They look like they are having the time of their life. I'm not any different. I look so excited about life, a big smile plastered on my face, spreading positivity. Sometimes the most positive people can be struggling the most.
After about ten minutes of scrolling, I hear a knock on the door. It's Gia. Last lunch with a friend. Last hangout. So many lasts today. I put on a fake smile and I run to the door so I can say hi to Gia. Time for Lunchables and a team jacket.
"Hey Gia, how are you?" I ask and she hugs me.
"Hi, bestie!" she cheers and she comes into the apartment.
I go to the fridge and I grab two Lunchables. The best lunch when I was younger. My last Lunchable. Mom is on the living room couch and she waves at Gia. She remains on her phone while we sit down at the small two-person dining table. This is one of the most exhausting lunches I've had. Riding on nothing but having to remain peppy and cheery at the same time is tiring. It makes me feel even more broken. Why can't I feel these feelings for real?
After a lunch of processed meat and cheese, we head to my room. I just hope she doesn't find the Advil under the bed. That would be devastating. She hops on my bed and I turn on the small television that my bedroom has, turning it to The Jersey Shore.
"Hey, I wanted to give you something. I'm going to be shifting around some stuff in my room and I don't want it to get ruined. Do you mind holding it on to me?" I ask.
"As long as it isn't drugs, yes," Gia jokes and I fake a giggle, going into my dresser to pull out my team jacket.
Gia looks shocked for a minute and hesitantly takes it from my arms. I smile softly. She'll take good care of it.
"You want me to hold on to this?" Gia confirms.
"Yeah. If anybody should, it's you," I answer.
"Thanks. Anyway, have you seen the new dance on TikTok?" Gia asks as she quickly changes the subject.
The handoff of the jacket is successful. For the next three hours, I force myself to hang out with one of the most cheery people on the planet. It does keep me awake. And Snooki keeps me awake. Snooki is our favorite character after what happened a couple of months ago.
Once she's gone, Mom starts getting ready for her night with Michelle. Sarah lives an hour-and-a-half away. Since she lives in Pittsburgh, she didn't get an apartment. Mom and Michelle are good friends, despite Mom blowing up in her face two weeks ago.
I feel so bad. Mom's going to lose her best friend tonight. Abby Lee Miller will lose a teammate. Tallie will lose his daughter. My friends will lose a friend. Lilly will lose a sister. But good things must come to an end.
After an hour, Mom's ready to go. Right as she's about to leave, I run up to her and give her the biggest hug I've ever given her.
"I love you," I tell her.
"Oh, sweet pea, I love you too. I have to get going though. Rush-hour traffic is awful," Mom jokes and she closes the door.
I look at the clock. Four o'clock. I have a couple of more hours before I kill myself. I watch some of The Vampire Diaries. My last Netflix show. I don't let myself eat or drink anything because I don't want Advil's reaction to be less due to food.
My gut feels weird. It has butterflies. A tiny part of my brain is telling me to get help instead of killing myself. But the pain is too bad. I can't get help. It's too late. At seven o'clock, I take a shower. My final shower.
Before I go to bed, though, I need to write my note. I need to write why I killed myself. I need to make sure people know it's not their fault. I tear out a piece of paper from my diary, the jagged edges present as I pick up the pen.
dear mommy and tallie,
i'm so sorry. i know how much it must hurt to read this. it wasn't the show. i've been suffering for a while now, ever since the car accident. i know how much you loved me, but i still felt unworthy of it. i know how much worth i had to you, but i still felt worthless.
i know i could have talked to you, that you might have helped me, but i needed to take care of it on my own. i felt alone, like i was in a dark room, and it was locked. this was the only way i could get out and finally be happy. i forgot what that feels like, to be happy.
i didn't want to do anything, not even dance. i just stopped caring. if i ever hurt you in anyway, i'm sorry. if i made a mistake in any way, i'm sorry. i deserved any bullying. i deserved all the hate. i can't do this anymore.
i love you guys so much, but i couldn't love myself. it was tiring, being happy all the time, when i would cry myself to sleep. every. single. night. i wish it didn't come to this, but i needed to end the pain. i needed to do this so i could be happy again.
this isn't goodbye. i'll always be your baby. i'll always be your best friend. i'm not gone. i was misplaced, a mistake. i'll be watching over you, forever and always. again, i'm sorry.
love,
your sweet p
Now it's done. There's no turning back now. Tears start streaming down my face. Am I going to go through with this? Yes. I thought there would be this big moment, like orchestra music, or a one-hundred-page buildup of my feelings right before I swallowed the pills, but there's not. It's just me. I take the cup of Advil and some water. One by one, I digest the forty-eight pills, taking one final swig of water to wash it down.
Now I've done it. I turn off the bedroom lights. I place the cup of what used to have Advil on my nightstand, place my note next to it, delete my search history, and pull the blankets on myself. I guess this is the end. The end of everything.
***lilly***
Eight o'clock. Mom wanted to be in bed early, which meant I needed to be in bed early. She's already knocked out in her bedroom. These competitions make me and Mom tired as heck. But something is keeping me awake.
I can normally fall asleep within thirty minutes. But something feels off. I feel sick. I feel like something's wrong. Maybe I should sneak to Pressley's house. Throughout this entire experience, she's helped me get through the hardest times. And she'd definitely be awake. And I have a key to her apartment.
I've never snuck out before. One time I snuck downstairs because they were renovating my bathroom and I needed water when I was eight and I felt like a criminal. But something is pushing me to do this. I quickly text Pressley so my visit won't be a surprise.
I slowly get out of bed and I find the key on my nightstand. I shouldn't change out of my pajamas in case I come back. The walls are paper thin, so I have to be super quiet. I slowly open my bedroom door and quietly tiptoe to the living room. There's still a light on in the kitchen because it won't turn off. But it provides me with light. I quietly stumble to the door.
Here's the big part. The door isn't creaky, but it can if you open it too softly, so I quickly open the door, making sure it doesn't hit the wall. Barely a creak or a sound. I hear some shuffling in Mom's room, but it stops. I'm clear.
I close the door behind me, making sure not to slam it or softly close it. Pressley's apartment is above me. There's nobody in the hallways. I can't wake up anybody because if they do, they may wake up Mom. So I quietly shuffle down the hallway and up the stairs. Right next to the stairs is Pressley's apartment.
I knock on the door to present my arrival, but when no one answers, I look at my key. She didn't give me a confirmation text, but I feel like I need to do this. After hesitating for a couple of minutes, I plunge the key into the lock, turning it and letting myself in.
All the lights are on. She's not in the shower. I feel like an intruder, but I have a key. Should I go into her bedroom? Something is pushing me to do so. I quietly creep into her room. She's sleeping, but something seems off. Her light is still on and there's a weird smell. I see an Advil box in the corner. Weird.
I go to her bedside. Pressley looks pale and she's sweating. I immediately notice a piece of paper with a note on it. I also notice a cup. I look even closer. I see vomit. Then I take a look at Pressley. She's not breathing. I take a closer look at the note and it dawns on me. She killed herself.
My heart sinks into my stomach. I start shaking. She's dead. Who should I call? Her mom doesn't seem to be here, or else she would have asked why I was her. What should I do? What should I do? My hands trembling, I pull out my phone and I call Brady.
After a couple of rings, I hear a confused, "Hello?"
I feel minimal relief hearing his voice.
"She's dead!" I softly cry out, tears beginning to stream down my face.
"Wait, what? Who?" Brady asks.
"P-Pressley. She's dead," I answer, dropping the phone on the floor.
"Where are you?" he asks.
"Pressley's apartment," I say, my voice barely able to come out.
"Stay right there. I'm coming," he tells me and he hangs up.
After a minute, I hear frantic knocking on the door. My legs are barely able to carry me to the front door to open the door.
"In her room," I whisper and he follows me to her room.
Immediately, he puts his hand to his mouth and wraps his arms around me, trying to protect me even though it's too late.
"I want you to call Ashley and your mom. I'm calling 911. How could this have happened?" he orders and I shakily pick up my phone.
He goes into the living room to call 911. I find Ashley's number and I press the call button. I'm having to tell Ashley her daughter is dead.
"Lilly, are you okay?" she immediately asks.
"Pressley's dead!" I weep into the phone.
"Wait, what?" she yells.
"She killed herself!" I cry, my voice shaking.
"'I'm coming right now, okay?" she tearily says into the phone and hangs up.
Once that call ends, I call Mom.
"Lilly, where the hell are you?" Mom yells.
"At Pressley's with Brady. I thought something was wrong so I snuck out and she killed herself and I'm really sorry but she's dead!" I mumble all in one breath.
She just hangs up. It hits me. I'm in the room with a dead person. My legs start failing as I stumble to the living and I crumple on the couch.
"Paramedics will be here in five minutes. I'm so sorry, Lils," Brady whispers.
I just cry. Everything has been so overwhelming. A minute later, we hear a knock on the door. In comes Mom and Tricia. Mom immediately picks me up and gives me a big bear hug.
"Ashley's not here. I think she's at Sarah and Michelle's house," Tricia tells us.
A couple of minutes later, paramedics show up.
"I'm Holly. Where is the girl?" Holly asks.
"In the bedroom," Mom answers.
"Do you mind if we ask you some questions? Brent's going to ask them," Holly asks and we nod.
Holly and three other paramedics run into the bedroom. Brent shows up and we sit down on the couch. He seems nice.
"Do you guys know what happened?" Brent asks.
"I think she overdosed on pills," I cry.
"Any problem with this before? Did she show any signs of depression?"
"No. She was so happy. She always had a smile on her face. She was the embodiment of happiness. I don't know why this happened," I tell him.
"Can you get her mom on the line?"
"She's driving here. She's about an hour away at a friend's house," Brady answers.
"What drug was taken?"
"I think Advil, but I don't know. I don't know anything. I just came in and I found her here," I answer, sobbing.
"Hey, it's okay. We're going to go ahead and transport her. You guys are welcome to tag along in your cars. We'll be heading to Mercy," Brent tells us.
"She's got a pulse!" Holly yells and I collapse into Brady's arms in relief.
"That's a good step. Do you wanna go to the hospital?" Mom asks and I nod.
"We'll see you there," Tricia says and we all leave.
I immediately sob into Mom's arms.
"You saved her life tonight, okay? You did a good job. Let's get changed so that we don't look like hot messes in the hospital, okay?" Mom tells us.
***pressley***
Everything is white. I smile. I made it. I made it to Heaven. I look around me, but there's nobody here. I start walking towards the sound. Everything feels so happy. I'm walking on clouds, the air smells like fresh donuts. It feels like I'm in Disney World. Everything seems delightful.
It seems like the spark of life, what makes food taste good and people happy, has returned. I feel an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. This is where I'm meant to be. I do aerials through the clouds. This is my happy place.
"Pressley?" I hear and I turn around.
It's a man in a suit. He has white hair and glasses. Normally, I'd feel weird hearing a random man calling my name. But something about him feels warm and inviting. I walk towards him and he outstretches his hand. I place my hand in his and he clasps it.
"You shouldn't be here, sweetheart," he whispers and he hugs me.
I pull away from him.
"But I'm dead," I giggle.
He doesn't say anything else. He just shakes his head, grips my hand a little harder, and disappears into thin air. That was weird. I brush it off and I keep walking. Slowly, the clouds change from pure white to dark as I keep running around, doing dance tricks, not ever being able to run out of breath. What is happening?
Suddenly, my vision starts fading. Heaven shouldn't be like this? Am I going to hell? I'm dead. Then, it's black.
*****
I hear some beeps. I open my eyes. I see the ceiling and I sit up. After a quick look around, my stomach sinks. Damn it! Shit, shit, shit. I'm in the hospital. I don't normally cuss, but fuck. I'm in so much trouble. Aargh! Why couldn't I have just died? Shit. Tears immediately stream into my eyes.
"No!" I scream, thrashing my legs and arms.
I bang my head against the bed, sobbing. Why couldn't I have died? My stomach and my chest hurt like hell. I have an oxygen tube in. When Mom and Tallie get to me, I'm dead meat. I just wanted to die. All of the pain comes rushing back.
A couple of minutes later, I hear the door open. It's Lilly and Brady. They look so sad but also relieved. Why would they come in first? I can't bear to look at them so I turn away. I'm so embarrassed. They find some chairs and sit next to me.
"Why are you guys here?" I ask, my voice cracking from when I just screamed.
"Because we care about you. Lilly, uh, she found you dying in your room. She saved you. I called 911. I'm so sorry we didn't notice anything," Brady answers.
Suddenly, I'm filled with blinding red hot rage. These are the guys that ruined my life, consoling me? What a load of bullshit.
"Get out," I grumble as a warning.
"Press, we-" Lilly begins but I don't wanna hear anything out of that evil mouth.
"Get out!" I scream, finally turning my head to face the two.
They look heartbroken and scared, running out. Immediately, logic sets in, and I feel absolutely awful. Why did I do that? Why do I keep pushing people away? I'm such a fucking idiot. I resume crying, having a fit, my stomach and chest continuing to hurt.
Once I'm able to calm down, I hear the creaky door open again. I swear to God if it's them, I'm going to punch them in the face, punch the wall, and jump out the window so I can finally just die. I turn my head and it's Mom. Immediately, more tears stream down my face. I can tell she's been crying.
"I'm sorry," I whimper and she gives me one of the most awkward hugs in my life because I'm laying down.
"Baby, don't be sorry. Don't be sorry," she tells me.
After a minute of just hugging, Mom breaks away and says, "Tallie's coming soon. They had to pump your stomach, so your chest and your stomach may hurt a bit."
"Yeah. Do you have Tylenol or something? It feels like I ate an entire Thanksgiving dinner," I groan, rolling to my side.
"I'm not sure the doctors are going to let you have pain medicine after you tried to kill yourself with them," Mom points out and even though it's a somber subject, I giggle.
"You know, I found your diary and your note. I read everything in the diary. I'm sorry if you feel violated. But I read all of the awful things you said about yourself. Why didn't you ask for help?" Mom asks and I can't look her in the eye anymore.
She read my diary? Everything in it?
"I don't know. I needed to do it on my own, I guess. I didn't want to drag you into it," I mumble, embarrassed.
"Honey, I'm your mom. I'm supposed to be dragged into these things. I love you so much. When I got the call, I felt so guilty. Like I could have done something. But I realized I couldn't. You never told anyone," Mom remarks.
"I'm sorry," I mutter.
"Don't be sorry. We're gonna get you help, okay? I don't want you to do this ever again. I love you so much. So much."
I nod.
"Tell Lilly and Brady I'm sorry for blowing up in their face," I tell her.
"Okay. I think they're still in the lobby. I'll be right back, sweet pea," she says, dropping off my phone on the side table and kissing my forehead before walking out of the room.
Now I'm faced with silence again. I grab my phone and I can see all of the text messages. None of my NJ friends, though. All of the Pittsburgh friends. The texts are almost comical, texting their final goodbyes before my number gets turned off.
But it's heartbreaking. People actually cared about me. I knew this would hurt people and I felt so selfish and awful about it, but I wouldn't be here to see it. Now that I am, I can see all the damage that I've caused. The havoc I've created. I'm humiliated, guilty, upset. I wanna overdose again.
But I can't leave them hanging when I'm alive. So I text them, "I'm alive." Then I put my phone down and I close my eyes. I'm so tired. I guess what they don't tell you is that after a suicide attempt, you're exhausted.
~~~~~