10 years ago this week I attempted to end my life for the first time.
The thought has crossed my mind again and again throughout the past 10 years. Those thoughts were followed by hospital visits, calls from resident advisors, medication increases, therapists, tears, sweat, phone calls, loneliness, driving restrictions, anger, late night pie runs, hitting walls, running from stigmas, defeat, cups of coffee, and me toos.
Depression continues to lurk in every corner of my mind-finding new places to conquer on its never-ending quest to control my body. Depression has whispered to my hands to turn the wheel of my car while driving down dark and empty roads, depression has fixed my eyes on old prescriptions sitting in the back of my medicine cabinet, and depression has touched my skin to the sharp edge of a razor blade in hopes to find freedom and escape.
I am bigger than my depression. I am more than my illness. I am choosing to live.
I chose 10 more birthdays.
I chose 10 more Christmases.
I chose 10 more years of finding friendship.
I chose 10 more years of searching for love.
I chose 10 more years of using my voice for the voiceless.
I chose 10 more years of battling the darkness inside of my body.
I chose 10 more years of fighting for hope.
Instead of choosing to die, I chose to be here. Just like you. Fighting the demons, celebrating the highs, and choosing each day to navigate the heavy and light.
If you or someone you know are experiencing suicidal thoughts please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255 to talk to someone right now.
Your life has a meaning. I promise.
(Feature Image by Johnny Corcoran Photography)