One year ago today was the darkest day of my whole life. In all honesty I never expected to write this post. I figured tomorrow I would take a screen shot of the app that shows the one year anniversary of when God healed my mind and post it.
I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to admit as a faithful Christ follower, as the director of First Glance, as someone who encourages teenagers to not harm themselves, that I was so close to doing so. I’ve been fairly honest in the past year that I struggled with suicidal thoughts. It’s easy to talk about it now that I’ve been healed. It’s easy to talk about it all now that it’s past. It’s easy to talk about in generalities.
Part of me feels like I need to tell this story, even though I don’t want to. I don’t want to because it shows weakness. I don’t want to tell it because I worry about who will read it… mainly my mom. But the truth is one year ago today I felt more hopeless and darkness than I ever felt. As I have explained before I didn’t hate my life or have a desire to leave it, in fact I loved it, but somehow in my mind I genuinely believed the world would be better without me. I believed that the lives who I was closest to would be better without me in them. And on Friday, February 13th I couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed with the idea that it would best if I no longer lived. And because this idea was so strong in my heart and mind I put items in my car with intentions of committing suicide.
I had a couple obligations that afternoon and so I still went to them, in some ways hoping to distract my mind. One was helping a friend paint, I thought it might be good to be around her, to tell her I wasn’t doing well. But within minutes of arriving she needed to leave, and therefore I was by myself. I finished the project in an hour and realized another friend might be across the street. I went, but she was talking to someone else. I was hoping in each of these situations I would be strong enough to say, I wasn’t doing well and had a items in my car a plan to harm myself. I didn’t. Although both of these women would have dropped anything for me, in my distorted state of mind, I didn’t want to bother them.
Onto my next meeting with a friend to work on a project. If I’m honest I drove past her road and headed toward the place I always anticipated killing myself. I drove quickly and determined. I no longer cared that I hadn’t written a note to explain to Tim. I wasn’t concerned about the loose ends I always figured my type A personality would want to tie up. I had a way to kill myself. I had an email written to someone I figured could handle finding my body. That’s all I needed. I started driving there. I’ve actually never told anyone this detail until right now, even Tim is learning about it for the first time while editing this blog.
As I headed there I text my friend I may not come, and she responded with a phrase she always says and quite honestly I hate when she does, “Thats’ your choice.” I wrestled back and forth. The text made me realize that it was my choice… a choice not to let the darkness win. Eventually I turned around and went to her house. Later she realized I was not doing well and called Tim.
Then the next day women prayed and my mind was healed. (I tell more of that story in this blog)
Again, I don’t want to tell or even remember the events of one year ago. But I need to tell this story today, because it’s easy to remember the good, the healing, the victory. But to truly rejoice in the healing and victory, you need to also remember the journey and the depth of darkness.
And that is one year ago today.