It was a cold yet beautiful day. The sky was azure blue with occasional white puffy clouds. Everyone left for the day…my daughter to school, her daddy to work at the hospital. I’m not sure what I did that day other than what I had been doing for longer than I could remember…to try to escape into a drug-induced sleep.

I was lost, broken, sad, confused, angry. I was more depressed than I had ever been in my life and I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of it this time. My marriage was irretrievably broken. It had been so long since I worked outside the home. My medical registration to practice Radiologic Technology had long since lapsed. And besides, even if it hadn’t, I didn’t have it together enough to get a job. I felt trapped like a bug in a box and I didn’t know where to turn.

So, I turned further inward.

It was really dark and scary in there. I’ve read so many comments about loss to suicide in the years since that day. Things like, “What were they thinking!” “How selfish!” “If only they’d told me.” These are the thoughts of stable-minded people. Let me assure you, when you are in the briny deep, your thoughts are anything BUT stable. You aren’t thinking straight. You are just so bloody tired and you honestly think you’ll be doing your loved ones a favor by disappearing.

I tried to disappear. Oh, it wasn’t like I had the conscious thought that I wanted to die. I didn’t. I just wanted the pain to go away. I went to sleep…only to wake up in the emergency room getting my stomach pumped. A night in ICU. Two nights on acute care. Then a trip to the Front Range to a “Behavioral Unit” to start me on the long and arduous road to recovery.

It was twenty-three years ago today that I went to sleep and woke up in the bottom of the barrel. It was God’s miracle I survived. When I was walking down the tunnel toward the light, God sent my late grandma to turn me around. “Young lady, you get back down there! You have work to do!” She knew how to make you do as you were told. Intense therapy saved me. I stopped drinking. I stopped abusing prescription drugs. I drew closer to God and started a journey that led me to Jesus.

When I look back on those terribly dark days, I have a hard time imagining how I got so low. I’ve spent every day since trying to make it up to my family by being the best human I can be. I know there are others who have been on this same journey and maybe they still are. Maybe it’s not something they feel they can talk about. Maybe it’s something they would just as soon forget. For me, it is something I praise God for because without his Hand covering my heart, I would have been lost. Not only here, but for all eternity.

So, I share this story every year on my “Re-Birth Day” in the hopes of offering encouragement to those who may be struggling with their mental health. I had no idea at the time how my actions would affect those who loved me…especially my children. I still ache over that. 

Self-care IS health care. If you find yourself in a similar circumstance, please tell your trusted health care provider and get the help you need. Once I was well again, my life has been extraordinary and I’ve discovered why God saved me. My life’s purpose has been this ministry I’ve been given. My writing has been my tool. My pain has become my platform.

I’m grateful beyond words to be here…twenty-three years and counting.

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“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”

Matthew 6:34 MSG