“I’m tired of life, really. It’s so hard, I’m sorry, I can’t take it anymore.”
“I don’t want my parents to think this is their fault, either. I love my mom and dad. It’s just too hard. I don’t want to wait three more years, this hurts too much.”
As carefully as he worded his final blog entry, the pain being experienced by 15-year old Jamie Hubley of Ottawa is clear and heart-breaking. Jamie ended his life on Friday.
His father, Kanata Councillor Allan Hubley. released a statement citing bullying as one of the factors in Jamie’s death.
In a blog post from three weeks ago, Jamie wrote that he hated being the only openly gay guy attending A.Y. Jackson Secondary School in Kanata.
“I hate being the only open gay guy in my school… It f***ing sucks, I really want to end it. Like all of it, I not getting better theres 3 more years of highschool left…How do you even know It will get better?”
He also said neither the medications he was taking nor psychological therapy was working to alleviate depression.
Bullied as I was – by peers, yes, but far worse by a teacher – in elementary school and then by the back-of-the-bus crowd in high school, I don’t know sometimes how I could have survived when I can relate so strongly to the tragedy of youth suicides, and the hopelessness preceding them, today. I certainly scoffed at all claims by my parents that these were the best years of my life! At least the “It Gets Better” campaign makes no such present-day claims.
Jamie chose figure skating over hockey. So that makes bullying him okay? As someone who chose the band and drama club over any sport I can relate to following one’s passions over the pack mentality. I would trade my worst day of rehearsing Molière’s The Imaginary Invalid or Lionel Bart’s Oliver! over my best shift on the ice trying to skate away from the puck.
As is more often the case nowadays than in my school in the 1970s Jamie not only knew he was gay but was open about it and he bravely tried to start a Gay-Straight Alliance in his school. He was a courageous kid who did not live to see the many accolades and tributes from around the world.
My chosen method of indirect suicide, I guess, was the prolonged torture of excessive drinking, where some days were better than others for a long time thus numbing me to the damage that I was doing. What had started as experimentation in high school plunged into the real thing once I was away at college. Struggling to accept myself – let alone seek the acceptance of others – made for easily identifiable signs of problem-drinking just as I was turning eighteen (the last year anyone in Ontario could legally drink at that age). These were hellish years as I tried to fit in to the socially conservative milieu I found myself in while barn-storming around looking for love in all the gay places (Buffalo and Toronto).
I guess that’s it then. As unworthy as I felt, as hopeless as life seemed, my faith that an intoxicant of one form or another would at least temporarily change the way I felt probably kept me sufficiently comforted – however delusional – that even the frequent thought of ramming into an overpass abutment usually came after I was safely home.
“It Gets Better” only when teenagers such as Jamie, and peers who are on different paths, are taught about the varieties of sexual orientation early enough – before individuals have even begun to experience strong feelings – so that everyone might find her/his place and grow into as non-judgmental a school environment as possible.
Clearly setting out his last few words, it’s such a pity that Jamie was so desperate and feeling so devoid of hope.
I hope that his parents take Jamie at his word that they bear no blame for his final decision.
It’s just so sad for his survivors to say good-bye.