***Below is another draft blog post. This one was written on November 16, 2011, almost two years ago now. The event I refer to below is now even further in my past.
I’m thankful for the gift of time. Some pain never completely goes away, but time does heal. Pain changes us in both good and bad ways. I will never understand why things happened as they did. I wish that I didn’t have this knowledge and experience with lies, cruelty, and deception. I have been forever changed in ways that still make me sad. I mourn my loss of innocence and my loss of the ability to trust. I still struggle with the fact that I often expect the worst from people instead of seeing their best.
However, I did learn one lesson that I hope to never forget. At my darkest hour, I found myself alone, and I blame myself for that fact. I had cut myself off from the good things in my life. I had lost my relationship with God; I had emotionally distanced myself from my family and friends. My emotions, loyalties, energy, and efforts had been misplaced. I was lost, and it was my own fault. I poured my emotions into blogging. I talked to a therapist seeking answers. Neither of those things worked. The blog helped sometimes, but in the end, I was still alone. The therapist helped even less. I was seeking answers, reaching out like a person in the dark. I was grasping and lost.
Life IS better now. I am beginning to find my way. I know who I am and where I am. I’m beginning to soften and to carefully trust again…very carefully.
As I drove to work this morning, my thoughts were full of where I was in my life on THIS DAY exactly one year ago. November 16, 2010 was the date of the biggest betrayal of my life. I remembered phone conversations from that terrible day. I remembered what I wore, gold skirt and a black sweater. I remembered sitting on my therapist’s couch, and I was shaking with fear. I was worried, yet hopeful.
Then….later that same day…BOOM…the horrible, hideous, ugly betrayal swooped in. It practically killed me. That is not dramatic talk. It did practically kill me. I wanted to die. I wracked my brain for ways to end my life. I was pissed off and frustrated that I couldn’t figure out an easy, clean way to die, a way that would not leave my family with the knowledge that I had left them by choice. My God! It scares me that I was actually having those thoughts. I was standing at the precipice of ending my own life. It scares the hell out of me.
I was once a normal woman. Thoughts of suicide had never entered my mind. I had known of people who had irreparably damaged their families by taking their own lives. I had once thought that suicide was possibly the most selfish act imaginable. Now I know that it is possible to feel such great pain that the intensity can render a person senseless. Last year, I did not feel that my life had value. I hated myself and my actions. I felt that I did not deserve to take one more breath.
As I drove along this morning remembering, I said a prayer of thanksgiving to be in a better (not great, but better) place a year later. I thought back to that day a year ago, and I realized that it was many of YOU, my blogging friends, who pulled me back from the edge. I want to thank those of you who carried me along and helped to lift a weight that I was unable to carry alone.
One of you (figuratively) held my hand through that horrible evening by emailing back and forth with me through the worst of it. One blogger answered when I called. Another listened to me cry the next day and told me to get some medication to help with the initial crises.
Strangers saved my life, and for that, I will be forever grateful.