"I want to jump!" - The Story, part 3

What broke my heart in February 2017 was the fact that, in relation to how hard I worked on the news paper, no one seemed to really embrace the news paper on the day of its release. Yes, a few people thanked me, but it wasn't a big deal. Well, for me, it'd been a hell for two months.

In May 2017 a bomb fell on me. The new president of the board of 2017 asked me to be the chief of the news paper AGAIN of 2018.

I said no. I think I said no three times. But she was persistant. "It will be easier now, you'll see. Now, you can start to work on it already in the summer, and it wont be as much of a rush as this time. Please, I know you'll make it!"

Because this was a friend of mine, and a really nice person. She asked me so sweetly and I gave finally in. Like giving candy to a child begging and begging.

I started to work on it in the autumn, and it felt ok for a while. Then I remembered the hell of pake breaking the news paper, the printing freak show and everything.

And then I realized that the two girls who did it in 2017 were no longer available. One had graduated already, and the other one was in Canada as an exchange student. The page breaking hell was now MY responsibility. I didn't know how to page break. I hadn't even seen the software, and didn't have it. The girls went to a journalist school, and they'd used the school's computers for the software. I hadn't access to them.

This realization caused a massive panic-anxiety attack one evening in December 2017. I KNEW that I couldn't do this. I couldn't learn a whole new software and page break a news paper with this time limit. I felt the sensation of killing myself again. I couldn't do it. I'd rather die.

I gave up. I sent a message to the president of the board, and told her that I can't do this. I even mentioned my mental health issues to her, and asked to keep quit about it. She answered that they'll OFC find another one, and that this voluntary job shouldn't make anyone stressed.

I thanked her. Maybe I was free from this burden?

Two evenings later, my best friend from the organization sent me a message. "I heard you're quitting. Why?"

I explained to him, and got this answer: "I trusted you. I was the one who vouched for you in May. I told the board that you'll be perfect again, and make a great news paper like last time. I'm truly dissappointed in you if you quit."

If you've never had a friend you trusted in tell you this, you don't know how much it hurts. How many tears it takes. Being told that you let someone down, and that you make them dissappointed, ah fuck, it hurts so much. I had cried to his face in November about this thing, he knew the situation was sensitive enough for me to make me cry while just talking about it, and then he drops this bomb?

But then he said: "If I help you, will you continue with me? If we do it together? Please, let's do it together. We can make it."

And I said yes.

He downloaded (legally) the software InDesign, and we had one (1) week when it was free, before we had to buy it for 50€. One week to page break free of costs.

We worked for seven days straight on that hell. Usually from 7 pm (19.00) to somewhere between 01 and 02 in the morning. Page breaking is not easy. In hindsight, I wish we just did the whole fucking thing on Microsoft Word instead of InDesign, without regrets that it would be ugly.

We made it. With blood, sweat and tears. And rage. Mostly rage.

And yet, my mind got a punch in the face when I once again noticed how few people actually cherished the news paper.

I worked so many hours, probably close to 40 hours in a very short time period, on that thing. I drove myself almost insane for it.

My friend didn't seem to care about the time it took to finish it. He was mostly dissatisfied of how "ugly" we made it. I was furious at him for dissing our news paper in front of the others, minding how hard we worked on it.

That was the last straw. I will never again do anything for that organization. That was February 2018. It's now January 2019. One year after. I can finally rest.

Part 4 will be a short reflection on how all this madness has shaped me.