Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Keep on Shining; find your spark


I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was not long home from a fantastic trip to Ontario with my friends Amelia, Paddy, Janice and Chad. There had been a trip to Niagara Falls, sightseeing around Toronto, the Hockey Hall of Fame, singing in a pub, and a GBS concert - the only one I've seen outside of Newfoundland - a truly marvelous trip.

I remember feeling emotional about leaving. I didn't want to go. I cried.

The whole time I was flying back home, I remember feeling that it wasn't right. As much as I loved my family and my home, I didn't want to be back there. I had enjoyed my Independence, savoured being somewhere different. And I suppose it was this emotional trip that triggered such a rash decision.

When I got home, I was still emotional. I remember being argumentative. I didn't want to be there. Anywhere else would've been better at the time. I felt I was a burden, the cause of all my mother and stepfather's troubles. I hated it. I didn't want to cause them trouble. The solution seemed so clear to me in that moment - end my life, and they won't be stressed.

So I went to the bathroom, looking for a way out. I looked in the medicine cabinet, and took the very first thing I could find. More than half a dozen pills I took. I went to my room crying, just waiting for things to be done. I didn't want to feel. I curled up in a ball, turned on my music, and waited. I just felt so done. I didn't want to live.

Two things saved me that day. The first was my mother. I thank God every day that she discovered that foil pill wrapper and realized what I had done. Rushed me to the hospital, scared of losing me. To be honest, in that moment, I was scared of dying too. I realized my mistake, and all of the pain I would've left people with had I been successful in my attempt. I thank God that I wasn't.

The second thing was music. Great Big Sea. One of the songs that came on while I was sitting on my bedroom floor, crying, was Ordinary Day. Alan and Sean's words resonated with me that day; they hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew that no struggle I was going through was worth ending my life over. We all have struggles, some worse than others, but we all have that option to sink or swim. I chose to swim. And I still do.

I can't say I've not struggled over the years, because I have. There are still days when bad thoughts creep into my head - that I'm not good enough, strong enough, or that the people in my life deserve better than me. It's a daily struggle sometimes - there are days that the depression is so physically draining that I don't want to get out of bed. So I don't. I take care of me and if the laundry doesn't get done or dishes don't get washed, I don't worry. Taking care of myself is most important.

I search for reasons to live, and they're not hard to find: my friends (who have become a 2nd family) and my family - especially my almost 3 year old nephew. Had I been successful in my attempt 6 years ago, I'd never know the joys of being called Auntie Krista or of watching the same fireworks video over and over or of taking pictures and seeing the world through his eyes. I love him more than life itself, and I'm thankful for him. He's a light in my life, even though I don't see him often. The music gives me reason to live too. If I kill myself, those songs meant nothing, the words of encouragement would have failed. I can't let that happen. I need to live, because I can perhaps help another who is struggling.

This light that is my life isn't going out anytime soon. I'll keep fighting, and keep my light shining - even if I have to find a spark to help me out every once in a while ❤

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