The Story that is My Life

My life as it has been and as it continues to unfold is a story. One story made up of many stories. One complex, yet simple story. One sometimes messy, but so beautiful story. One story that I wonder if it might be interesting to be told.

This blog is my attempt to put part, or parts, of that story into words, pictures, or whatever form my mind can wrap itself around or create from within myself to express what it is like to be the one inside Cindy's Story. This is an exploration on my part and on yours in reading, and seeing, and maybe even hearing. It is not necessarily chronological. It might not always make sense, but it is my expression. It is me.

You are invited to see how my story unfolds.....

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Why I Didn't Die By Suicide That Night

I know this story may be hard for many of you to read, but I want to write it to show that you can have an impact on whether someone you know dies or lives.  Also, I want to show you who may have attempted suicide that the things that stopped your life from ending may very well have been arranged by God ahead of time.

My purpose is to show that God did indeed love me even in the midst of a horrible time as he does love you in the midst of your horrible time too.

I struggled with depression for many years of my life.  The mental and emotional pain from it became so bad that I started wanting to die and was thinking about suicide.  Every day I would have to decide if I would live another day or end my life.  Finally, I decided that I could not be in the world any longer.  I decided that I would kill myself.

There were some reasons that had kept me from completely going through with killing myself up until then.

The biggest was that I was afraid that suicide meant that I was rejecting God forever and that I'd go to hell if I followed through with it.  I was pretty sure that He would understand my pain, and love me, and accept me into heaven, but there was still a tiny doubt.  On that night though, I decided that my pain was too great and that God may be sad that I went to heaven that way, but that I would still be accepted.

Another reason that I had not gone through with killing myself yet was because there was uncertainty in my mind if the process of killing myself would be painful.  I had plenty of pills that I could swallow.  I had cut my wrist numerous times, and I knew I could do it, but I had not yet lost enough blood to actually die.  That night though, I wanted death to come, and decided that I would let it happen.

I made an attempt at suicide that night, but to my dismay at the time, I did not die.

These are some of the reasons why my suicide was not completed that night.

  • A couple that I trusted had me stay at their house after I had cut my wrist really bad the day before and because I was saying how I wanted to die.
  • I was writing a suicide note while at their house, and I think it was seen when I was called outside for a moment to talk to one of them.
  • When it was time to get ready for bed, I went into the bathroom at my friend's house, shut and locked the door, and cut my wrist.  I was not going to stop until I died, but somehow the door opened!  They  came into the bathroom and stopped me.  I have never figured out how that bathroom door could have been opened, but that is what really came in the way of my suicide.
  • A towel was wrapped around my bleeding wrist, and I was held in love while I tried to shut out the world in my mind.  I was held as I cried from the deepest place in me in anguish until I could cry no longer.
  • They finally left me to sleep on the couch and went to bed.  I lay awake in the same state of wanting to kill myself as they fell asleep.  Finally, I got up and went into the bathroom again.  I was ready finish the process of killing myself, but I felt too guilty about the fact that my friends would have to find me dead in the morning.  I couldn't do that after they had already stopped me once, so I went back to the couch to wait until the morning.
  • It just so happened that I had an appointment the following morning with my doctor who prescribed my depression medications.  And not only that, but it just so happened that my friend had an appointment at about the same time at the same clinic that morning.  He talked to my doctor about what was happening, and they set it up for me to get checked into the psychiatric ward at the hospital.
  • While in the hospital, the psychiatrist, my counselor, and my parents worked together to set up a plan for me to get more long term intensive help.  My parents had received some money for their kids education, and even though I had already completed my college degree, they were able to use that money they were given for me to go to an outpatient program that would teach me how to survive and live again.  I had gone down so far that I didn't even know how to live.
All the above things stopped me from dieing that night.  I didn't know why or how all those things happened to align to keep me living.  I can only say that someone higher than I, knew what was going to happen and arranged ahead of time that I would live.  It could only be God.  He was loving me and saving me even in the midst of my darkness.

Today, many years later, and with many years of recovery and finding out how to live, I can say that I am glad that God did not allow me to die that day.  God has given me a new future and a hope in Him like I never knew before.  I know that God wants me to live and rest in Him.  He wants me to know that I can trust Him to know the perfect time to take me home.  He knows my life and my steps so intimately even before they happen that He prepares a way for life.

God knew that I would give up on that particular day.  God gave me friends that listened to my cries for help, friends that stepped out of their comfort zones and took me into their lives.  God planned that my friend might see the suicide note I was writing and take things seriously.  God planned that the door of the bathroom would open somehow.  God gave me someone to hold me safely in the depths of the pain.  God gave me the thought that I didn't want to scar my friends by having them find me dead.  God planned ahead of time that I would have a doctor's appointment the next morning.  God planned that my friend would also have an appointment at the same clinic at the same time.  God provided a bed in the hospital and a counselor, psychiatrist, and parents who wanted to work together to help me.  God provided the money needed for me to get help just at the right time.

Why did I not die by suicide that night?  God planned for me to live.