The Madness We Survive

I spent almost two years of my life buried in a very deep dark hole trying to fight depression and suicidal thoughts on my own. I stared death in the face. Just the two of us sitting in silence, looking back at one another on three different occasions. Luckily I found the strength to walk away from him.

I laid in bed more days than I was out. I went through days without even remembering how. Cried more tears than a body could produce. Sent calls to voicemail more than I could count. It was a silent fight. Because until I wrote and made it public, no one had a clue.

It changes a person. It changes their heart, their mind, their soul. And you don’t go back. You don’t go back to who you used to be. Those scars, whether physical or emotional, they are there forever. The bruises heal. The aches go away. But the scars...they stay forever. You never forget the suicide attempts. You never forget the places, or the dates. You never forget the meaning of all those songs, or the smells that remind you of when. Even when you try and forget...you still remember.

It becomes a part of your story. Whether it’s a short chapter or a very long one, it’s a part of your book. Some chose to be ashamed of that chapter but I chose to use it to reach out to others. A reminder that they aren’t alone, that their feelings are validated, and most importantly, that they can come out of it. That there is hope. There is a light at the end of that seemingly endless tunnel.

People deal with things differently. People love differently. People heal differently. But the crucial point to all this is that that person, that person that hurts so deeply, is still a person. They are someone’s mother, a sister, a best friend. That person deserves to know that their life matters, even when they think it doesn’t. That person was me! If that person is you, read all that over again, and know that when you get through all that pain, you will be stronger than you’ve ever been.

If it’s not you...remember that all it takes is your hand reaching down to help us up. An offer to sit in the dark with, to hold their hand, and wipe their tears. A non-judgmental, real, friendship. Be that friend. It matters.


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