My Suicide

I was about 11 years old, a small-framed petite girl.

I was a light complexion, the opposite of what I visioned as perfection.

I grew up not understanding my body, skin, or anything it was going through.

I hated my skin, the skin that I was in, which sucked because it covered all my body.

I have a deeply embedded memory of cutting myself in the dark and cutting myself so deep blood would spurt from the knife's pressure.

I would put increased pressure until I bled.

I had these mental struggles that would take over my mind and take me to a hidden place. I considered my escape.

This place was my home, the area I adventured I started to end my life.

I imagined how my lifeless body would look; my hair would lay, skin, and eyes.

Who would find me? Would they even care?

I sat on that cold bathroom floor, afraid of the destination that would take place.

I knew it was utterly painless, voiceless, my mental escape.

All I could think was to take another until this freshly opened pill bottle was empty.

I then lay there

Waiting

Thinking

What is wrong with me?

My body starts to drift into a relaxed state.

My last thought before my eyes shut due to the uncontrollable heaviness

God, I am so sorry I was not strong enough to grow

I hurt; I do not understand why!

Suddenly a thought came from nowhere. God, if you are there, I happen to wake up.

I will know that there is a purpose in my life.

I remember falling down a hole that I felt I would never come out of

The following day my eyes opened.

I gradually got up off that floor

Prepared me for school

The entire day my body worked through every single pill I consumed

Distorted

Dazed

Confused

I got through it

I learned from my suicide attempt that I understand deeper today.

I am here for a reason

I will touch so many lives through my truth

There is a calling in my life, and God gave me Grace that night.

God gave me grace that night.