The lights and movement woke me up. My grandpa, grandma and brother were getting out of the truck. I got ready to follow them but my grandma told me to stay where I was and not to make a noise. She was crying. I didn't understand what was going on. I looked out the window and saw my mom. She was crying too. Next to her there were about 8 men. They all looked like soldiers with their uniforms and their big guns- but they weren't. "Why is the little girl still in there? Get her out! Everybody out!" one of them said. Grandma came and got me out. She held me against her and I was able to feel her tears falling on my shoulders. I still didn't know what was happening. I just heard my grandpa tell one of the guys to take all the money we had but not to hurt us. That we were a family. Grandma's sobbing became even louder. I must have been 4 or 5 when The Guerrilla, a rebel group in Colombia, pulled us over. They were known to do this- stop people on the road, kill them, take their money and burn their cars. Somehow, we're all still alive.
Today somebody told me that I take life too seriously and therefore I stress myself and over think things way more than I should. Perhaps I do.
But if I gotta be serious so no one goes through what I've been through- then I'll be serious. If I gotta stress myself in an attempt to change the world- I'll stress as much as I can (even if my voice is never heard). If I gotta over think things to make sure I can help you (whoever you are) with whatever you need help with- then I'll over think things until I can think no more.
This has got to be the most difficult thing I've ever written in my life. I just got back from volunteering at the "Alive & Running 5k" which was an event to raise awareness and funds for suicide prevention. At this event I was told I take life too seriously.
There was a banner at this event with pictures of people that had committed suicide (posted above- sorry I couldn't turned it around but it was taken with my cellphone). I had a chance to see this banner and look at the pictures. Most of them were smiling. They all seemed so normal and happy and I couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly gone wrong. Maybe someone didn't take their lives too seriously.
A little boy and his mom stood by my side at some point. "Which one is it mommy?" the boy asked. She pointed at the picture of one of the guys that were smiling. "That's uncle Jeff, honey."
As I stood there I promised myself to never stop trying to change the world. Even when people think it's lame or even when they tell me that what I do won't change anything. And maybe it won't, but it's a start. I promised them. I'll never stop trying. Whatever it takes. Even if it means taking life too seriously.
