Six weeks ago, I lost sight of what was important. I lost all emotion. No joy, no sadness, no anger. I felt nothing as I stared at the bottles, hoping they would make it all end. I took the pills. I apologized to my husband, who immediately talked me into going to the hospital. The last thing I remember is telling the front desk what I did. Then I was in the ICU. I woke up the day before my twins' birthday party, filled with shame, guilt and regret. Thank God for a compassionate social worker, willing to take the heat for releasing me instead of having me spend time at the psych hospital.
It was at rock bottom again. I had been struggling with depression and anxiety despite not having a reason to. As per usual, I didn't understand. But I felt like there was nothing I could do and that everyone, especially my family, deserved a version of me that no longer existed.
But when I woke up, I was back. I was ready to love on my kids again. I was ready to hug my husband, who supports me through even the darkest times. I was ready to be the best me possible, despite the mountains I would have to climb.
Then God stepped in. Not only did he give me more time, he lead me on a path that resulted in my first job in seven years. Something to give me purpose when the kids were at school. Something to challenge me, sharpen my mind and give me another reason to get up in the morning.
Yes, recovery has been hard. But I have to say, I have the best family around. They support me, love on me and advocate for me. My husband is my biggest fan, the person who is straight forward but compassionate. Who is on the phone for every doctor appointment and call to the office. Who sees when I am struggling before I do.
Six weeks ago, he knew something was off. He knew it was bad. He didn't know that I had a plan, something that I know hurt him deeply. I hid it. I lied about how I was doing. Yet he stays. He holds me as I cry. He loves me unconditionally. He's my number one.
Don't get me wrong, my kids are my world. They give me purpose. When I am healthy, my mind revolves around them and how I can work to raise them the best way I know how. But my husband...man, he is there. Always.
So even though I hit rock bottom again, I now see everything I have to give me purpose. My family, my job and my God. Oh how God has worked in my life. He gives me chance after chance after chance to be here. To live a full life. He guides me out of the darkness. He gives me support through my family. He so unexpectedly gives me a job to help me through. He is gracious and kind and forgiving. I know I need to better myself, but He has put people around me to help do so. And I am oh so thankful for that.
If you feel like you can't go on, reach out. Tell someone, anyone. Talk to your family or a friend. Call the crisis line. Email me. No matter what you think, there is always a reason to live. There are always people who care even when you don't see it. The world is better with you in it and your story isn't over. It gets better. Even if you've been at rock bottom again and again and again, you will climb out on top every time if you can just reach out. I wish I had. But I am so happy that my plan failed and that God's plan for me isn't over. I'm ok now. I'm happy. You can get there, too. Just talk and soon your rock bottom will not seem so dark. You'll see the light and you will get better. Be encouraged, friends. You're worth it.
If you are struggling and feel you have no one to talk to, please reach out to your local crisis line or call the national suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255. You can also reach out via live chat at https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/