I was born in a christian household, so I have been told about God my entire life. I have been “saved” since I could talk, and been in church for just as long. It still didn’t help me in the challenging battle I have fought, and still fight every day. I was diagnosed with depression in September 2012. It wasn’t until after I attempted suicide did anyone even seem to realize that I might of had it. This is the story of my battle to stay alive and happy.
In November of 2011, my father hung himself. He always seemed so happy around me, but that day... Everything changed. My perspective changed right along with it. I didn’t see the happy loving father I have always known. I saw a struggling human people, barely holding on to the concept of happiness and life. Also that year, my favorite teachers were fired during the middle of second semester, and my best friend moved forty-five miles away. I no longer felt like I had someone to talk to because everyone left so suddenly. This was the beginning to my plummet to the dark side.
As time went on, I wanted to always be alone, in the dark, and thinking. I invested all of my time in reading manga and anime, so I wouldn’t have to think too much. I knew if I did I would remember the pain of being alone. My family allowed me to do this, though they were beginning to worry.
After school started again, I thought I was getting better. I smiled occasionally, but it started to fall again. I stopped smiling, or caring. I didn’t make any friends at my school. I felt like an outsider from the start. It made me want to die. Maybe if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t waste that space. There would be one more empty chair in the classroom, and I wouldn’t be such a burden to everyone. Finally, I cracked.
It was in September when I was plotting my demise, writing out ways to die and collecting miscellaneous pills I could find. I knew it wasn’t the answer, but at that time, nothing else mattered. I wanted to die. It was on the morning of September 24th that I sat on my bed holding a handful of pills. I had called my mom, telling her I was sorry while crying. She rushed home as quickly as possible. She found out what was going on and then took me to crisis care. After that, I was sent to a mental health hospital. I was there for five days.
Those five days were my turning point. The girls there were nice and everyone understood each other. We understood the feeling of emptiness and nothingness. I also got closer to God there. We spoke a lot in group sessions, and most of the workers were Christian. They would mention that every once in awhile. It reminded me of how he can help anyone, even a girl who wished to die. By the time I left, I felt so much better. I was on medication, but it didn’t feel like false happiness. I genuinely felt glad to be alive and to be with my family, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Since then, I have been getting better. I have my down moments, but I just have to turn to him and he will save me. My happiness doesn’t come from a little blue pill. It comes from the love I receive from God. I can only hope to share this with someone who has that same feeling of loneliness and brokenness as I did, and maybe they could begin to see the light at the end of the long dark tunnel, too. I have been diagnosed with depression. It is a long battle that I have to fight every day, but with God, I know I will win.
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