Passing it on

I came across this photo on my Facebook feed and it brought back memories…

suicide quote

I remember one of the last times I had attempted to commit suicide I thought to myself that the pain would finally be over.  ((About 10 or so years ago )) I remember thinking that this time would be it. I was tired of drowning. I was tired of feeling like it wasn’t going to get any better but when the deed had been done I remember thinking wtf am I doing. I wanted to take back what I had just done but it was too late.

I remember this like it was yesterday, my mom approaching me her eyes so big and full of fear. She didn’t know what to say. She was in complete shock,  scared and shaking. Now my mom had always been and continues to be my superhero. She is the strongest woman I know alive, has been through SO much and continues to persevere through so much and on that night when I saw her full of all those emotions, full of pain, I remember thinking that if I ever made it through the night and didn’t die, that I would never want to cause my mom that much pain ever again. I never wanted to see her that way EVER.

It had never clicked in my head before but that night I finally understood what this quote says, that those who take their lives away don’t end their pain but pass it on to those they love. I thank God every day that I had that revelation that night. That I realized that I never wanted to hurt the person who meant the world to me that way ever again. Even if life sucked. Even if I felt like I was drowning. I made a decision to fight and get through it with God by my side and over 10 years later I can say that I did thanks to Him. I have hit rock bottom in worse ways than that period in my life but not once did I think about killing myself and that to me is something worth celebrating.

So it is not impossible! You can get through it National Suicide Prevention Line 1-800-273-8255. They are there because they want to make a difference and help as many people as possible.

God was there for me and He is there for you too! 

Don’t give up! 

Undoing what has already been done

Suicide has been and continues to be a very sad tragedy that takes place in the world. September is the National Suicide Prevention Awareness month and with that said I came across this beautiful poem of the reality of committing suicide in hopes that it makes readers realize that what has been done cannot be undone.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-(800) 273- 8255

If you need help, seek help! 

In closing, I am grateful that every attempt I made at killing myself was an unsuccessful one because I would have missed out on so much. I would have missed seeing my brother grow up to become the man he is today, to see my mom achieve and accomplish so many set goals, to see my best friends get married. I would have missed out on traveling the world and meeting wonderful people, on bettering myself and realizing I am worth it and loved.

YOU are worth it and loved! ❤

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up. I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels. The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed. The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine. The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication. The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother. The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach. The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.
-By Meggie Royer