Sharing Stories with one another brings Healing to the Soul written anonymously.

September 13, 2023

I believe when we share our stories, we are given a rare opportunity to connect with each other's hearts. Suicide isn't a story that is easy to share. There is a stigma attached But, when courage and bravery come into our hearts, we have no other choice but, to share and give hope to someone else. Below Is a story of a woman that survived some terrible things in her life> she has chosen courage to share her story because even if one person is help than everything is worth it. The person that stares at you every morning is a hero.

I am a grandmother who at 69 went through a very

ugly divorce a few years ago.

It rocked my world to the point that I moved out of

state and away from my three children and eight

Grandchildren.

I was catapulted into depression and thoughts of

suicide.

My battle began as such:

But Life:

Is about security, feelings, children, reputation, finances,

the kind of familiar that keeps us more than being in love

Keeping my feet under the table, the family table

Leaving causes too much unraveling

Leaving comes with a side order of wounding, crying and confusion

Massive alarm bells are ringing in my head

The other side is too expensive, too much loss

So I will return:

Because the aftershocks could last for years or eternity

Because eight children need to see me stay and be for them

Because a world of international persons is watching and hoping

Because new routines are hard

Because creature comforts

Because

But I couldn’t return. My heart was shattered in places I couldn’t find.

All I knew was that I needed to be by the water. It soothes my soul and it’s where I can write poetry and my book.

The first year was the worst. On my way to Texas I stopped to visit my sister.

While taking my things out of my car I realized I could not find the envelope with the only money I had.

Hysteria set in as I began to throw everything in the back of my suv onto

the driveway.

The tears came in sheets. I was losing control. And then I found it. Slipped down on the side of a suitcase was my life savings.

As night approached, I was exhausted and wanted to sleep for days and that’s just what I did. With an extra dose of anxiety meds, I locked my bedroom door and fell asleep.

Pulling. Pulling. Stronger than mind can fight.

The shrouds take over me. Sinking fast

Weight of hopeless blinds my sight

Quick sand swallows my soul at last

Stopping. Stopping. I cannot breathe

Fighting fear wraps arms around

The weight grabs quick It will not leave

If I give in will I be found

Spiraling. Spiraling. It’s now free fall

It swallowed me with no fight left

I’m weakened now. I give it all

What does it want? No sand to sift

Giving. Giving. I find the tools

I give it what it wants the most

It takes my soul, it overrules

Take it all, no emotion boasts

Surrender. Surrender to the beast

The fight is gone All payment seized

It comes and leaves a lifeless yeast

The dark has won No heart to squeeze

Three days later I woke up in a psych ward of a hospital with a young woman standing over me. “You need to get up and go to the classes or they will keep you longer.” Where was I? I dressed and asked where the class was.

Young and old. Rich and poor. Weak and strong. We had all been reduced to naught.

I quickly realized I had taught most everything they were saying.

This turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life. The kid from the hood befriended the wealthy businessman. They were inseparable.

All of us became the same. We all had one important thing in common.

I made precious friends.

Yes it helped me. Yes I had tools to go home alone. Yes I knew how to cope with depression until I was healthier.

I will conclude with a poem I wrote after I was allowed to leave.

They came in sweetness Broken souls

They came in toughness Bearing holes

They came in backwards Fighting hearts

They came in classes From the start

The rooms were darkened From the world

The rooms were silenced Fear unfurled

The rooms were simple Shelter harm

The rooms were soulless No alarm

The helpers friendly Safe from life

The helpers smile In spite of strife

The helpers staying Through the night

The helpers helping Fight the fight

The patients settle Resting starts

The patients open Broken hearts

The patients give Encouragement

The patients help Each other vent

The days go by Each slowly moves

The days go by As minutes sooth

The days go by Some sleeping through

The days go by Nothing to prove

The classes focus One by one

The classes focus Healing some

The classes focus Hands in air

The classes focus Souls to bare

The meds are given Shaking hands

The meds are given Some pretend

The meds are given Some rebel

The meds are given Relief from hell

The mind is fragile No coping skills

The mind is fragile We cope with pills

The mind is fragile We’ve let it slip

The mind is fragile A sinking ship

So what’s the answer We try to find

So what’s the answer Just please be kind

So what’s the answer We beg and plead

So what’s the answer Give us that seed

We want to make it No more repeats

We want to make it Manna to eat

We want to make it Whole again

We want to make it No sinking sand

So here’s our cry From night to day

So here’s our cry That you will stay

So here’s our cry Someone to care

So here’s our cry Our soul to bare

Back to blog

2 comments

this was so profound!! Thank you for your courage and rawness in sharing your story. I can relate in many seasons of my life. Sometimes I would just pray “God if you want to take me tonight, I am ready” Life is hard!! We need each other, I need to hear I am not the only one< I need to hear hope for tomorrow. Thank you for being vulnerable. There is healing through stories.

Your story moved me. I am a psych nurse, now retired. I find myself in the middle of what is supposed to be a wonderful time of life torn in pieces. My son, in his early 40s has lived with us for just over a year. An alcoholic that wanted to get clean and get his life back. He has stayed away from the alcohol but now uses gummies to cope. It’s obvious to me he is a schizophrenic and has severe ptsd. He holds a good job, for now, but I wonder how long that he will last. Constantly self sabotages himself. Has seen a counselor twice in the past few months but very good at camouflaging his true feelings. His daughter, whom we raised because her mother didn’t want her..at least she made no attempt to petition the court, and neither did he, is 21 and pregnant. Boyfriend walked when he found out. She spends her days chain smoking and crying. Doesn’t want the baby, tried to abort twice without success. Sometimes I feel like you did. But I know I just want the misery of two people I love to end.
Thank you for writing. Your not alone. You are worth being loved. You are important, especially to those grandchildren. Jesus loves you, He gave his life for you. Sending you hugs and thank you for sharing. Your an inspiration ❤️