He’s Got His Secrets, I’ve Got Mine Too
Jack
-June 23rd 2018-
Today I’ll be starting something I call “7 days of harm” it starts today and finishes on June 30th but there’s a big finale on July 1st. The rules are, I’ll write part of my suicide note every day, along with the most harmful things I can do to myself and on July 1st, well. The world will be saying goodbye to Jack Barakat.
Two hours later, I left the hospital and made my way to the bus’ bathroom, pulling the razor from my pocket. And grabbing the lighter from the kitchen. I cut deep 6 times on my right wrist and then used the lighter to burn it. I put my wrist under the cold faucet and bandaged it up. I continued down the hall to my bunk, I pulled out my phone as I got in. I opened Instagram, posting a photo of me, Alex, Rian and Zack from 2010. It was in black and white and I scribbled myself out. It had the caption “day 7, 1 week left -J.B” fans instantly thought we were releasing new music, they definitely didn’t think it was a count down to my death. I put my phone away and wrote the first paragraph of my note,
Dear Everyone,
You know why you’re reading this, because I’m gone. I Jack Barakat committed suicide on July first 2018. I’ll miss Alex, Zack, Rian, our fans, the music and everyone else. But one thing I’ll never miss is the pain. I’ve been hurting for years and nothing can fix me. I’m very broken, well I was. I’m writing this on June 23rd. Seven days before my planned end. So just know I love you all and if you want to, let my memory live on through our music. Just know I’m in a better place now and am no longer hurting.
After that I decided something that needed to happen would happen. “I need to do this.” I whispered to myself. I opened Instagram, ready to post a photo of me looking lovingly at Alex with the caption “happy gay boy”. My finger hovered over the post button for a few seconds before clicking it. And then the reaction came. “Jack’s gay?!?!” A shocked yell from the front lounge said. Other than that everyone else either knew or was supportive. Alex commented “ur my fave gay boy” that made me giggle so I replied with “thanks fave pan boy” “Lex! Come here!” I shouted. A few seconds later a little Alex popped his head into my bunk “change your Instagram bio to ‘just to clarify I do not fuck pans’.” I laughed. His cute little face giggled “yes.” I pulled him into my bunk and rolled over so I was on top of him. “Why are you wearing a bandage? Take it offfff.” Alex whined. I did it. I’m a fucking idiot. “What did you do!? How did that happen!?” Alex said shocked, he pulled me down so I’d be next to him. “Nothing.” I say. “You don’t just get a burned cut arm for no reason.” Alex said. “It’s nothing, it’s fine.” I say. “Jack. Your arm is seriously burned and those cuts are deep, you should probably go see one of the medic people.” Alex was worried. “Lex it’s nothing.” I snapped, pulling my arm back. “If you say so, if it hurts you should let someone see it.” He said, leaving my bunk. I had been putting up a great facade, people thought I was finally happy. I was for a month or so but it ended. These last few days will be difficult but I fought my best fight and it’s the best I could’ve done. The shows I’ve played were the highlights of my life, I want to be known for the person I was during the Don’t Panic era, because I see Jack Barakat as the happy, go lucky, skunk haired guy not the person I’ve become.
Today I’ll be starting something I call “7 days of harm” it starts today and finishes on June 30th but there’s a big finale on July 1st. The rules are, I’ll write part of my suicide note every day, along with the most harmful things I can do to myself and on July 1st, well. The world will be saying goodbye to Jack Barakat.
Two hours later, I left the hospital and made my way to the bus’ bathroom, pulling the razor from my pocket. And grabbing the lighter from the kitchen. I cut deep 6 times on my right wrist and then used the lighter to burn it. I put my wrist under the cold faucet and bandaged it up. I continued down the hall to my bunk, I pulled out my phone as I got in. I opened Instagram, posting a photo of me, Alex, Rian and Zack from 2010. It was in black and white and I scribbled myself out. It had the caption “day 7, 1 week left -J.B” fans instantly thought we were releasing new music, they definitely didn’t think it was a count down to my death. I put my phone away and wrote the first paragraph of my note,
Dear Everyone,
You know why you’re reading this, because I’m gone. I Jack Barakat committed suicide on July first 2018. I’ll miss Alex, Zack, Rian, our fans, the music and everyone else. But one thing I’ll never miss is the pain. I’ve been hurting for years and nothing can fix me. I’m very broken, well I was. I’m writing this on June 23rd. Seven days before my planned end. So just know I love you all and if you want to, let my memory live on through our music. Just know I’m in a better place now and am no longer hurting.
After that I decided something that needed to happen would happen. “I need to do this.” I whispered to myself. I opened Instagram, ready to post a photo of me looking lovingly at Alex with the caption “happy gay boy”. My finger hovered over the post button for a few seconds before clicking it. And then the reaction came. “Jack’s gay?!?!” A shocked yell from the front lounge said. Other than that everyone else either knew or was supportive. Alex commented “ur my fave gay boy” that made me giggle so I replied with “thanks fave pan boy” “Lex! Come here!” I shouted. A few seconds later a little Alex popped his head into my bunk “change your Instagram bio to ‘just to clarify I do not fuck pans’.” I laughed. His cute little face giggled “yes.” I pulled him into my bunk and rolled over so I was on top of him. “Why are you wearing a bandage? Take it offfff.” Alex whined. I did it. I’m a fucking idiot. “What did you do!? How did that happen!?” Alex said shocked, he pulled me down so I’d be next to him. “Nothing.” I say. “You don’t just get a burned cut arm for no reason.” Alex said. “It’s nothing, it’s fine.” I say. “Jack. Your arm is seriously burned and those cuts are deep, you should probably go see one of the medic people.” Alex was worried. “Lex it’s nothing.” I snapped, pulling my arm back. “If you say so, if it hurts you should let someone see it.” He said, leaving my bunk. I had been putting up a great facade, people thought I was finally happy. I was for a month or so but it ended. These last few days will be difficult but I fought my best fight and it’s the best I could’ve done. The shows I’ve played were the highlights of my life, I want to be known for the person I was during the Don’t Panic era, because I see Jack Barakat as the happy, go lucky, skunk haired guy not the person I’ve become.