Suicidal: I'm Going to Die This Time

I Wanted to Die

I have received feedback both good and bad regarding my blog entries.  Some celebrate my transparency and some hate it.  In forty-three years of life one of the most important things I have learned is to be true to me.  I am not ashamed of where I have been or even what my current daily struggle is. It has taken much prayer to get me to a place of healing and during my journey I have encountered many hurting people who felt just as alone as I felt while going through my struggle.  This realization has made my decision to share much easier. So my prayer is that if you read my blog that it encourages you or that you share it with someone else who may be struggling in this life.

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  My life was spiraling out of control.  I hadn’t felt these feelings since high school when I went to live with my Godmother because my home life just wasn’t right.  I felt unloved and worthless.  I remember going to spend the night over a friend’s house and sneaking a bottle of pills planning to take them that night.  I didn’t even know what the pills were. I just knew I didn’t want to live anymore and this would be the easiest way to do it.  Although I knew where a gun was I couldn’t see myself shooting myself. And the only other option was for me to drive my car into a pole. But with that I may only inflict minor injuries to my body.

Now most people around me, during that time, wouldn’t even know these thoughts were going through my head.  You see, I had learned at an early age how to pretend.  I was raised with that stupid saying that we tell our children, “House business is house business.”  And then I was raised in the church where stupid Christians told other Christians that ‘saved people couldn’t be depressed.  Just pray about it and God will deliver you from it’. Two of the dumbest things I have ever heard.  But because I was raised that way I kept all that was going on around me and the feelings I was feeling inside my head. This was the worse place for them to be.  I nursed though negative thoughts and they just grew and grew.  I went to school, made straight A’s and became known as the girl what was always smiling, Truth be told, I was dying.  I hated life.  I just learned how to play the role.

Fast forward to a life being abused, dealing with mean church people, and hell,  just people in general, especially women who thought if your hair was done, your nails were done, you dressed halfway decent and heaven forbid a man pay you any attention, then they hated on you. (ain’t much changed). It got to the point that I had enough.  I had heard most of my life that if you committed suicide you would go to hell.  I never believed that and truth be told I didn’t care.  God was letting me live hell on earth.  He didn’t care. So there I was again in that familiar place of depression and wanting to die.  This time I had my own house, didn’t have to go anywhere. I made sure the children were with my mom and I took the pills.  Funny thing is that it didn’t work like I had planned. God showed me that until He said it was time for me to go, I wasn’t going anywhere. My plan was to take the pills, fall asleep and never wake up again.  Instead I woke up in the mental ward of the hospital where I spent seven long days without any of the comforts of home. I had to sleep on a bed without sheets and have my every move monitored.  The first couple of days I was out of it.  I still wanted to die.  They made me take my medicine and then one night when I watched them come in and get my roommate who went crazy, I cried out to God for the very first time in a long time. 

The next morning I asked the nurse if I could have a Bible.  She said yes. One of the rules of the hospital was you could have a Bible but you couldn’t talk to the other patients about it.  I was okay with that.  I spent the next five days doing nothing but reading my Bible and talking to God. It was during that time in that cold hospital room that I truly felt God’s love for me.  He didn’t let me go through all those things because He didn’t love me. It was because He did.  Sounds crazy huh!  I know.  To me too.  I finished out my time at the hospital and went home.  It was a long road after my release to a place of peace.  It would be great for me to tell you that I have never had those thoughts again.  I have.  It would be nice to say that God completely healed me from my depression.  He hasn’t.  Could He?  Absolutely He could.  However, in His infinite wisdom and His Sovereign power He has decided to leave it with me to show an even greater story of His sustaining power and His ability to use a broken vessel. Every day I wake up I have to make a choice to get out of bed.  I have to make a choice to take my medicine.  I am easily unmotivated.  I could easily be a hermit.  I’ve known about God all my life.  I didn’t come to really know Him until I went through some very dark days.  Every time you see me, you see the grace and mercy of God.  Just here recently I felt myself slipping back into that dark place and someone saw through the mask and said they wouldn’t let me and they have been standing in the gap for me. My struggle doesn’t make me any less of a Christian. In fact, it puts my life on display to show what a life whose complete survival depends on God looks like. Don’t ever get it twisted, I am nothing without God.

I share this story today to say that you never know what someone is going through or what their struggle is.  Before you judge someone who may appear to have it all together understand that they are only human and we all (if you are saved) are living on the grace and mercy of God.  And if you are not saved, you are still living on God’s grace while He is trying to give you time to be saved. Before you judge someone from their outward appearance get to know their story.  I have spent time with many people who struggle with depression.  You would never know it by what you see with your physical eyes.  We must be the hands and feet of Jesus.