“The Suicide Note” at Manifesto Amelioration reminded me that I thought about suicide when I was 20 years old.
It was in the late 70s, after high school when my codependency emerged full force. The guy I’d been dating was not a good fit. But I didn’t get it. Depressed, I dropped out of college, worked in nowhere jobs, and drank more I should have.
I had no active suicide plan, just thoughts about leaving work at the pizza place where I washed dishes with tears dripping into the sink, and walking in front of a truck. I thought about it more than once. Because my stupid boyfriend didn’t love me anymore, and life wasn’t working out at all like I planned.
What stopped me was that I didn’t want to hurt my parents. My little sister had been killed by a drunk driver less than two years earlier. The night she died, my father, the strongest man I’ve ever known, sat in his chair shaking his head and holding a cigarette for the first time in years. I felt his agony. Even then, I knew that losing one child was a horrible burden for any parent to bear. I would not add to their pain.
I didn’t know how hard my parents were praying for me when I was 20. And that angels were watching over me, sometimes peeking though their fingers, shaking their heads in disbelief as I meandered along the edge of sanity. I did not walk in front of any trucks, but I did put myself in some risky situations.
Thank you, angels.
Putting one wobbly, angel nudged foot in front of the other, I got over the boyfriend who was never a good fit. I had other boyfriends. I got married, graduated from college, and had two children. There was more heartbreak, but there were joys, too. Big joys. And lots of lessons. Today, my life is better than I could have ever imagined.
My point is that when I was 20 years old and thought about suicide, I didn’t know that the best years of my life were waiting for me.
Hope is always with us, waiting patiently. It gets better.
Suicide Prevention Lifeline
It ain’t over yet.
(The angel photo is from pixabay.)