The Ugly Word

This is something I never in a million years thought i’d share. Even when the memories flood my mind late at night, I immediately try and count to 100 as fast as I can so that my mind diverts to other thoughts.

So why are my fingers typing this right now…

I am not sure.

All I know is I got a lump in my throat when the thought briefly crossed my mind to share my story and that’s usually how I know God is prompting me to do something.

I am still not sure why. Maybe to give my mind closure, to show someone else that it’s okay not to be okay or to bring awareness that someone so simple as myself, might be fighting the darkest demons.

I want to avoid this story so badly but my fingers still type. The only individuals who really know what went on are my roommates from college. My parents were only briefly informed as well and I quickly mentioned it to my husband when we first started dating.

So. The ugly dark word. Suicide.

From the time I was young, I experienced a lot of darkness. A lot of pain that my head didn’t process correctly. Whenever something negatively happened in my life, the quick thought of death crossed my mind. It’s weird though. I never wanted to end my life. I had so many loved ones and I was so excited for my future, I just wanted to embrace the feeling of not feeling. I loved the idea of being in a better place, a place where the pain didn’t hurt so badly. I am not sure anyone around me could even tell I had these thoughts. Not friends, not family. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary talking about it. I’ve hid it so well and admitting it makes it seem too real.

When I entered college, I was so excited to learn, study, date and eventually find my eternal love. A few months before college, I was dealing with chronic back pain so I was prescribed painkillers. I noticed how great they made me feel, how at ease my mind would be and how peaceful sleep would come.

The first week, I started talking to an awesome guy. We were together for a few weeks and then he quickly ended it. A blow to my chest. Then another guy came along and ended it. A blow to my chest. Then another guy came along and ended it. A blow to my chest. For the longest time, ever since I was a little girl, all I wanted was to find that one guy who I’d spend forever with. Someone to love me unconditionally and to take on all my pains. My soul cracked more and more after every failed relationship and I was just so tired.

I was just so tired.

After trying to understand why this one guy in particular wanted nothing to do with me, I gave up. I felt so numb and so lost. I believed the horrible words he was saying about me and I just wanted to sleep. Maybe for forever if that was God’s will. That’s how I thought of it. I didn’t want to die but if death came, then that’s that. I want to think that I knew the handful of pills I took wasn’t going to kill me but I am not sure I knew that for a certainty.

How do you explain

to someone healthy

that your mind is sick

when they are healthy

and your mind is sick.

There was so much screaming inside my mind that all I heard was silence.

As I lay in my bed, I screamed through uncontrollable sobs. I was just numb enough to realize what I had done and that I didn’t want to die. I screamed louder and louder in hopes that someone would hear me. One of my dear roommates ran in my dark room and asked what was wrong. I just kept sobbing. She asked again and I said I did something bad. At this point she was yelling at me, “What did you do!!” as I just shook uncontrollably. I finally pointed to the bottle of pills and she screamed for my other roommates to come in. They all picked me up and ran me down five flights of stairs to the car. I vaguely remember saying over and over again, “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.” I think I might have been screaming it because an image of a girl’s face passing us on the stairs, still haunts me. I think about her often and wonder what was she thinking at that moment.

We got to the hospital and they carried me in. Everything was so heavy at this point. I just wanted to lay down. They brought me to the back and started asking questions. I kept saying I just wanted to sleep. I wasn’t lying. That’s why I took the pills. I wanted to sleep and forget the pain that was so all encompassing. Like I said, I knew the amount I took wasn’t going to kill me, I just thought it’d make me sleep a long time and if I went, then that’s how it ended. After pumping my stomach and lots of followup questions, I was sent home. I was still very out of it and very tired at this point. A foggy haze that coated my mind. I don’t remember going up the stairs or even falling asleep and when I woke up the next morning, I thought I had a horrible dream until I looked down at my hospital bracelets.

I was filled with so much regret, embarrassment, and pain that I put not only myself, but my roommates through that traumatic experience. I was sick to my stomach thinking, what if I would’ve died.

I had to follow up with a school counselor that evening that was extremely uneventful or even helpful. I never returned. That night was such a blur that some days I like to think it never even happened. How did I let myself get to that point that I had to be taken to a hospital? I hate admitting it, especially to all of you who think so differently of me. I’ve hid a lot of my life, emotions, feelings, inside that no one really knows that these thoughts and actions ever exist(ed).

I still struggle with the idealization of being in a better place, of having happier days that are free of pain, but there is a huge difference now. I have people to live for. Ever since becoming a mother, I promised myself that suicide will NEVER be an option. I picture my children’s life without a mother and it makes me physically sick . It’s not an option. It will never, ever be an option again.

I know that pain that brings you to the edge of life. I know what the dark thoughts say and I know what it’s like to almost lose it all.

I am not sure why I had to relive one of the darkest days of my life right now.

I have never fully replayed it in my mind until today.

I just want you to know, that if you are ever feeling so suppressed from those thoughts, the thoughts that no one knows you have, I promise there is something to live for. There is purpose to your life. There is so much more to come. A month after this incident, I found the love of my life and he has taken the weight of my pains upon himself. 5 years later I have been blessed with my purpose on this earth and the reason I choose life.

Tyler is my purpose

Indie is my purpose

Vincent is my purpose

Hendricks is my purpose

Please find something to make you choose life, because although weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning.

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