Be very, very careful what you wish for...

I was 13 years old. My mom was driving me to see someone....some kind of doctor but it was at night after she got off work. I really wasn't exactly sure where or why we were going. She explained that we were going to see a psychologist. Thinking back to this night now as an adult, I remember thinking this really wasn't a big deal. I remember this particular night like it just happened. I remember the parking lot, the elevator to get to the guys office, the office, a nice little pond with a little waterfall, and even exactly what he looked like.

Seems like I only went 5 or so times. I remember wondering what in the world would cause my mom to want to take me to this person when I didn't like to talk to people anyway. The guy was nice. It didn't seem like "counseling". It just seemed like having normal conversation with someone. Well, at the end of my sessions, he informed my mom that my problems, whatever they were, had everything to do with my father abandoning me and my pretty much non-existent relationship with him.

Fast forward about 20 plus years or so and I am having a conversation with my sister who is 10 years older than I am. For some reason, we got on the subject of that time in my life that I went to that counselor. I started telling her that I never really understood why mom took me to see that guy. At which point she informed me about the entire story to which I still do this day have absolutely NO memory of whatsoever.

When I was about twelve...maybe thirteen, I had a diary. I wrote in it all the time. It was like my only friend really...my escape from the real world. I remember the diary very well. My sister told me that my mom had found my diary and read it. And that in that diary I had entries regarding wanting to commit suicide. Again, I have zero memory of this to this very day. SO, that was the reason my mom took me to a counselor. And I guess she didn't want me to know she had read my diary.

So, I guess that is where it all started. It is my belief that suicide is a spirit. A very dark and evil spirit. I remember when I was 17 years old when I lost my son who was four months old to sudden infant death syndrome. I wanted to take my life then. I was just barely seventeen. I was a baby myself for crying out loud! Obviously, I didn't take my own life at that time nor did I try to. But what I did do is start a long, long battle of abusing alcohol and drugs and the lifestyle that came with it. That was my coping mechanism.

My mom died six years after I lost my son. I stopped doing drugs when she died but started drinking very heavily. By the end of that year, I had given my life to the Lord. Once I quit using completely and gave up drinking, I was then faced with a clear mind for the first time in years and years. So, I had to then deal with these terrible losses that I had been covering up with substance and alcohol abuse among various other things.

The emotional pain was so, so very deep. It was like I had just lost my son and my mom all over again only at the same exact time. It was horrendous. It was at this time that suicide had started rearing its ugly head again. I have always been the type of person who says what she means and means what she says. It has always got on my very last nerve to hear people "threaten" suicide because I always thought it was for attention and if someone was really going to do it they just would. So therefore, it was a lifelong secret. The VERY LAST thing I wanted was attention. What I wanted was a way out. I really didn't ever want to end my life, I just wanted to end my pain.

I did tell a pastor's wife what I was dealing with once when I went up to the alter for prayer. My oldest was just a baby. But I was convinced that life and every single person in my life would be better without me in it. She prayed over me and was actually pretty stern with me. I'm not sure that was the right way she should have handled it but I seriously doubt that she had any idea at all how serious the problem was. But, the prayer she spoke over me really helped me a lot. The thoughts subsided and didn't haunt me for many years afterwards.

I would say that it was my go to "way out" in life. When things go wrong in a persons life they always....100% of the time will DO something. They might go immediately to a friend or family member or straight to God. They might cry or get angry. Maybe they go have some drinks at a bar to just not think about it for a while. Or maybe they pop some pills and pull the covers over their heads. Whatever it might be, we all do something. It might be healthy and most likely it is my guess that we ALL have a tendency to do something that isn't quite as healthy. My thing was to secretly contemplate taking my life. Not in a way that I would EVER really do such a thing or act on it in any way whatsoever. But somehow, it provided me with some relief. I know its crazy but just thinking about it made me feel like I had some options...something I could be in control of and do as a very last resort yet knowing deep inside I wouldn't ever do it but that it was somehow a coping mechanism that worked for me.

I know that it will take many, many posts to share all that I have held within being too afraid to tell. But God has released me. So, over a series of many posts, I will share with you my life. The good. The bad. And the extremely ugly.

I had these thoughts randomly throughout my whole life. I never told anyone the depth of my problem. I think mainly because I really and truly did not think that I would ever go through with it and it would just be stupid to tell someone something and worry them over something that was really never going to happen.

In 2009, my husband lost his job. I was completely terrified. Things were absolutely terrible. I worked for a church and I oversaw many large events with lots of pastors. After those events, we would always have leftover food. Literally, that food fed my family on many occasions. I would go up and clean out the fridge at my job and rather than throw out any expired food, I would take it home so we could eat something. Shortly after this, we had to get food stamps because things were just getting way too bad.

During this time the suicidal thoughts started to darken my mind again. But we made it through. God provided, we weren't late on any bill and we ended up being okay. But the thoughts didn't leave. I was already in a very dark place mentally. And I was sinking daily. My husband got a job and things were better financially but I had already turned a corner in my thought life.

I remember on this particular day in April of 2010. I was having a particularly bad day emotionally. I remember this like it just happened moments ago. My husband was at work. The girls were at school. I cannot remember exactly what I was upset about but I went and laid down on my bed. The house was totally spotless. My bed was all made up. I laid down and just looked up at the ceiling as tears started rolling down my cheeks. One, then another, then another. The thoughts overtook my mind. They overshadowed all other thoughts. I thought of my mom that had died of cancer and as I thought on that and cried some more. More thoughts came. The thoughts so suddenly, so quickly took a turn and became very, very dark. I looked up at the ceiling and I said these very words...

"God please. Please, please, please just let me get cancer and die. Please God! Just take my life and let me go".  

The VERY next day, I RANDOMLY did a self-exam in the shower for the very first time in my entire life. And within less than seven days later, I had a mammogram, a sonogram, a biopsy and was diagnosed with cancer. 

I'll let you chew on that for a few days before getting into my next post....................