Life Flashing Before My Eyes

***trigger warning: suicide, self-harm, and Anorexia...please read with caution if you are in a safe headspace to do so***

I hesitated in sharing this story too soon...but it just so happens to be the right season, and I hope that it might help someone else out there...because again, you never expect these things to happen. At least I did not, especially this time around.

I knew that Anorexia was getting worse, but I was delusional...telling myself that I had it all under control, when really, I was spiraling out of control. I'd go a week without eating, over and over again, and yet somehow...I still managed to do thousands of steps a day and abused diet pills, laxatives, and diuretics. Definitely underweight, I felt fragile and frail, and yet, I was happy...or at least I thought I was. I was going on all sorts of adventures with my mom and my friends, determined to experience all that Texas had to offer before I was to move to Georgia, but my adventures got cut short...

Sure, I had my typical struggles with emotional regulation, PTSD, and avoiding trauma work, but nothing in particular triggered me that day. In fact, I thought that it was a great day when I woke up that morning. I had not had suicidal thoughts in months and the urge to self-harm was not overpowering even though the urge to restrict my food intake was. I thought that my meds were working great, and I still felt like I was functioning in society just fine although I still wasn't allowed to work. And yet, the day just continued to head downhill from there...

It was in the early afternoon that I started to feel completely "off." Not horrible, but not great anymore. It was like a grey cloud of depression set in, who used to be an all too familiar friend. I shrugged it off and later went out for my daily 2-hour walk, and that's when the darkness really hit me. I could feel the internal struggle inside, but I didn't want to die...I was just struggling with the negative thoughts that plagued me. I pulled out my phone and called a friend. I honestly told her that I was struggling, but we weren't able to talk for long and I didn't feel any better, so I called another friend. She didn't answer but texted to ask if I was alright. I froze and decided not to bother her, texting back that I was fine. It was almost time to head to my church recovery group anyway and so I got in my car and headed there.

When I got to the church, my mentor hugged me and asked how I was doing. The dams broke because that's the moment I didn't feel like living...sniffling, I told her, "like I shouldn't be here," but I should have been more specific, because I think she thought that I was physically talking about not feeling like I should be at the church. However, she comforted me and told me to stay throughout recovery group, even if I had to cry in the corner the whole time...which I did.

As I got in my car to head home that night, the weight of the world came crashing down on my shoulders and the pain was too much to bear. I had gone through my coping list earlier that morning, so why didn't it work? Why was I feeling this way? I had internally screamed at God, called people, talked with people, and went to the church for recovery group, so why didn't I feel any better? Instead, I felt invisible. I felt abandoned. I felt alone. I felt like no one heard my cries for help. I felt like I couldn't be helped. I was done fighting.

So, when I got home, I put on a smile for my mom and waited for her to take a shower before I tried to take away the emotional pain with self-harm. It didn't work and I was so incredibly frustrated...so I overdosed on a deadly combination, determined for it to work this time. However, as soon as I did...I panicked. What did I just do? Regret washed over me, and I desperately tried to throw up all the pills I had taken but couldn't. I cried out to God with an apology and asked him to save me again before grabbing my phone and texting a few people, including my therapist at the time, but again, I wasn't specific...essentially, I was just saying goodbye.

I pulled myself off the floor, soaking wet, and turned off the shower. I bandaged my wrist as best I could and walked out, intending to go to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened. But God had other plans...my mom called for me from her bed to bring her another pillow and so then I did. She later told me that there was a darkness over me and that she could tell that I was not myself, but she had ignored the feeling. I laid my head on my bed that night and told God that I would either see him soon, or that maybe he could miraculously save me again, for the 5th time...that's when my phone rang.

I picked it up and froze...it was my therapist. She didn't usually look at her work phone this late and again, I panicked but answered. She didn't hesitate to ask me what I had done, but the words could not come out...it took a good long few minutes before I finally blurted it out and she told me to go wake up my mom. As soon as I did, my mom knew, and she held me as we talked with my therapist, who told my mom to call an ambulance. My heart broke when my mom turned to me and asked, "I'm right here, why didn't you come talk to me?" I didn't know...

I did not end up taking an ambulance because we probably could not afford another ambulance bill...and so my dear sweet mother, drove me to the hospital with a broken hip she was still recovering from. We happened to get there right on time where I collapsed into a wheelchair and threw up right in the middle of the ER waiting room. It was blue from all the pills I had taken, and they immediately admitted me.

As they were stitching my wrist up, without any pain medicine might I add...my heart rate plummeted to below 20bpm, and I was immediately placed in the ICU. For the next week, I fought for my life, with several IV lines and a central picc line that ran straight to my heart, again, without any pain medicine at the time of the procedure...they told my poor mom that I was dying and not going to make it...Anorexia was preventing my body from responding to the medication and keeping it from healing. I simply did not have enough nutrients or the energy to fight. I could not keep any food down or I would refuse to eat, telling the on-staff psychiatrist that the eating disorder would not kill me...I was obviously in denial because she pointed to my heart monitor and blatantly told me, "you're in the ICU."

I had lecture after lecture from doctors, physical therapists, occupational therapists, nurses, techs, and my loved ones, who all begged me to eat because if not, then I really was going to die. My electrolytes were depleted, and they were having to pump me full of potassium, magnesium, phosphorous, you name it...my blood sugar was dangerously unstable, constantly treated for low blood sugar or receiving insulin shots when it went too high...my labs were a complete mess and I was almost placed on dialysis because my kidneys were failing...I was bedridden because anytime I sat up in bed, my heart rate would shoot up to 200bpm. It took a while for me to realize, but eventually it struck me...I really was dying...the overdose had set things into motion, but really, it was Anorexia that was killing me...

I cried when I passed out trying to get up, or when I realized I couldn't even go to the bathroom, or when I had to use a walker in physical therapy because I hardly had the strength to walk...it was humbling...and as I cried, I'd tell the people around me that "I'm just 24, and I can't be like this..." That's when it really hit me...I didn't want this to be my life. I had to fight...even when it is exhausting...even when I feel like I don't have the strength...even when I'm at the lowest point of the valley...I have to fight.

Even now, I still fight. It's a daily battle, but I also know that I'm not fighting alone. My loved ones never gave up on me...they were by my side the whole time...and my God came through and saved me, again, so that I have another chance at this life. I'm blessed that He's given me so many chances to get it right...so I'll keep fighting. And I pray that you keep fighting.

For those that are struggling...know that there are people who care for you more than you know...know that there is a God who loves you more than you know, even when you can't feel it...know that even when it's hard, this life is worth it, because think of all the lives you could save by sharing your story...know that you are strong and resilient, even when the lies tell you otherwise...know that you can make a difference, because even the smallest smile could change the course of someone's day...know that if I can keep fighting, you can too...know that it is a strength to ask for help...know that you are not alone.

For those loved ones...know that you are cherished, even when we might not show it...know that God is holding tight to you and guiding you as well, even in the midst of the hardships...know that it really does matter when you just hold tight to your struggling loved one...sometimes we don't need words, sometimes encouragement helps, sometimes it helps to just know you care, sometimes a hug is all we need, other times, a shoulder to cry on, and most of all, to simply have someone in the room and know that we are not alone. It helps to be checked up on regularly...it helps to be asked the hard questions when we are struggling: "Are you having thoughts of suicide?" "Do you have a plan and/or intent?" It helps to have a text or call here or there, but especially to hang out, even if we'd rather be isolating. You matter just as much as we do and can make all the difference in the world.

I pray this is an encouragement for all who read it. I share my story not to bring fear or pity, but to bring hope that even through the darkest moments, there is a light at the end of tunnel. I pray that this month of suicide prevention awareness is one that is filled with love for others to know that they are not alone and of education for how we can truly prevent these tragedies from happening or to at least be a helping hand to those who are struggling as well as the loved ones of those that are.

You are a light.

Be the light, dear friends.

Suicide Prevention Hotline:

988