So, why go on? I think that was the main question I had when I was 17 years old. All I could see was pain. Pain in the world around me, pain in my family and I felt the pain that was inside of me.
From the time I was 17 to 23, I tried to kill myself a few different ways. Needless to say, I was a non-fatality. I survived every time and today I can truly say that I'm glad I'm still here. Then, I wasn't so glad.
When I was feeling like I wanted to die, I felt trapped. Trapped by pain. Trapped by my circumstances in life. Trapped by all the pain in the world. I also felt like there was no one who understood what I was going through.
What saved me? A few things. The grace of God, Allah or whatever you want to call him; writing things down in journals and writing poetry; friends; and the death of my sister from suicide when I was 23 years old.
When I was 23, I was once again thinking about ways to end my life.
One day my sister came to see me. She told me that she was going to kill herself the following Sunday and I could come over to my mother's house and take any of her belongings that I wanted.
On Sunday, I went to my mother's house and I told her what my sister had told me. There was lots of drama and the sheriff was called and my sister was taken out to the mental health facility that was in our town.
I used to go visit my sister in the hospital. The last time I visited her she told me, "If you and mom really loved me, you would let me die."
My sister was released from the hospital after about 30 days. The hospital told my mother that my sister was okay and there was nothing else they could do for her.
My sister came to see me a few days after she was released from the hospital. I could see the pain in her eyes. I knew she wasn't okay. As soon as she left, I called my mother and told her that my sister wasn't okay, that she needed to go to a place where they could help her. My mother told me to wait and see how she is.
Four days later, my sister was dead. I can still remember exactly what I was doing when my grandfather and my stepfather came to my apartment to tell me what had happened.
The whole process of grief, planning the funeral and gathering the family together was too surreal. It felt like a bad dream that I was wishing that I could wake up from.
My sister saved my life. I saw the pain that my family went through and is still going through after almost 30 years. When I saw that, I knew I couldn't take my own life and leave that kind of pain behind.
I wish I could say that life was all roses and sunshine after that. Of course, it wasn't. Life is life. We have good days and bad days.
I read a poem years ago that was written by a child in a concentration camp and the main idea of the poem was that she would be sad tomorrow and if tomorrow came, she would say again, "I'll be sad tomorrow."
So I choose to live today. Tomorrow, I will say again, "I choose to live today."
(To be continued...)
You make my world a better place. Glad you stuck around.
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