My Story

I was on the floor crying so hard my hands shook, curled inward trying to dig out the unexplainable pain coming from somewhere within.

This was a scene that happened much more often then, then it does now.

After the trauma and the rage/grief that occurred because of it, I was a woman on fire, but not set alight by anything good- this was a fire that would destroy me and the sad thing was, I wanted it to destroy me.

The kindest thing done for me was actually a succession of little acts of kindness during this 3 year period of me hell bent on destroying myself.

It was that they didn’t give up on me, even when I had given up on myself. That they still believed and loved me just because I was me.

And that was enough for them.

It was the greatest gift I was ever given and continue to receive to this day.

I’m writingthis with tears in my eyes. It’ll have been 4 years since my suicide attempt, it wasn’t easy afterward, after the trauma that is, but I can say quite truthfully that I’ve begun to not just survive, but thrive.

It happened because I had people believing in me until finally, one day, from what seemed like out of the blue, I began to belive in myself too.

What a gift.

What a beautiful life I can now appreciate and greet everyday, even when the skeletons in my closet rattle and wish to remind me of my failings. I hear them, I feel the sharp feelings but now… I release them and continue to live.

Dear God, I’m living.