Sunday, February 3, 2013
If you know me, you know I believe in God. I believe that He sent his Son for the purpose of saving our souls. I believe that there is a Heaven and all the love ones I have lost are there enjoying an intense love and peace. I believe in prayer and I pray often for many. I believe in destiny and in making your life better by believing in the powers of your own heart. But I'm not always good at these beliefs, I waffle at staying on track. I pray for others but forget myself. My relationship with God has been strong and it has been weak. I sometimes have trouble believing I am important to Him. I have struggled with why my daughter suffers and why God lets her. I have hated God, knowing it is ok for me to, but wondering if I will ever love Him again. God has been a constant in my life. Since I was very little I believed in a God helping me, watching over me, loving me. I think I grasped for Him because I suffered much. My childhood had many challenges, many heartbreaks. I hoped God would help me not live the same heartbreaks as an adult. I saw divorce through my parents, betrayal of love by my father when he left for another woman. I saw my sister suffer through a marriage that had alcoholism, addiction and abuse. Her husband beating her and her forgiveness and the cycle continuing over and over again. The drama of those days, of those months are still clear in my mind. I saw mental illness and depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, sadness, loneliness and despair. There were times life was too much and I felt alone and confused by the purpose of it all. I was desperate for love, wanting to feel cared for unconditionally, wanting to be seen, really seen but feeling like I was a burden and invisable. My family was overcome by problems when I was a teen. Being the youngest of five I watched three of my older siblings turn to drugs and alcohol to ease their eternal pain. My Mom turned to alcohol and although she was a good woman who had a huge heart for others, she seemed to be drowning and I often felt alone. The pain took hold of me one night and I decided my life was not worth it. I decided to end my suffering. I just wanted to die. I had friends who were like family, people who loved me I could have turned to, but the pain was deep and I was done. I truly wanted the pain to end, I wanted to go to God, even if it meant I would hurt many in the process. I barely talk about this, I doubt my son or my husband's family knows I went through this time. My daughters are too young to share this with. Of course Mark knows, Mark is my everything. Mark is the man I was dreaming of when I was suffering alone. He is what I hoped my life would be, loyalty, consistency, peacefulness and most of all unconditional love. As a teen I was lost, I couldn't find my purpose. No one seemed to see me, to care where I was, what I was doing and most of all how I was doing. I lived in a house of drama where bad behavior got attention and good behavior went unnoticed and unappreciated. Three of my siblings were in need of help constantly. My Mom seemed to suffer from loneliness after my Dad left. I felt like the forgotten one, the good one who was invisible in the family. I couldn't help my Mom, my Dad was a classic case of disappointment. He would make plans with me only to break them last minute or just not show. The dream of being part of a family who loved me seemed distant, unreachable. Lost in their own issues, I felt alone in my pain. After many days of contemplating it, I wrote a note saying goodbye and took a bottle of Tylenol and Nyquil. Falling asleep was peaceful and I did not expect to wake up, but I did. I was sick to my stomach and my Mom thought I had a bug. I didn't tell her the truth. Why I woke up I'm not sure, it should have been enough to kill me, yet it didn't. I have thought about that moment much, the desperation of just wanting to die, the feelings of hopelessness. I didn't talk about what I had done, but I think waking up changed me. Somehow God wanted me to live, there was a bigger purpose to my life that was unseen and God wanted me to live it. I have shared this with very few people. Many believe suicide is a selfish act. Many believe it is something only the weak do. I believe I am a strong woman and I have lived through much, but there are times I have debated suicide even as an adult. Even with the love of Mark I have thought about ending my life because the pain of Teale's mental illness has put me over. There have been times Mark and I have felt alone in this world. We have suffered through unbearable mental anguish. Teale has had stages of her bi polar and other mental illnesses where she has all but stopped sleeping, for months. Those times I have actually gone back to that night I took the pills and hoped to never wake up. Those are the times I wish our families were there for us. Times where the pain was so unbearable death seemed like the only answer. I once said to Mark "I know I won't do it, but I'm as close to suicide as I can get." The truth is I shouldn't be here, I should have died when I was seventeen. I took a bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of Nyquil, it should have been enough. I was given a second chance, I was given a chance to see what my life would become. I married the man of my dreams and he has been everything I hoped for, even after 24 years together we still love deeply. But I see the irony in my life too. My hope to pick a man who was not an abusive alcoholic, after seeing my sister go through Hell, happened. My hope to pick a loyal man after seeing my Mom hurt by my Dad happened. My hope to pick someone who didn't have addiction issues happened. My hope to marry a man I would love eternally and who would show me the same love, happened. But, and is there always a but in life? Teale happened. Teale has torn my heart out at times, she has been abusive to me, she has brought chaos to what should have been a peaceful life. There have been times I have actually thought about killing the two of us to give my sweet husband and other two children a chance at peace. I have been sleep deprived to the extent of this sounding like a rational idea. The fact that I can talk about that pain is a strength, not a weakness in my opinion. Because until you live the extreme pain both mentally and physically Mark and I have lived, you will never understand how desperate a person can be for peace. So yes, I believe in God, I believe He is with me and He saved me that night I wanted to die. I believe my life has changed some hearts and I believe I have a purpose. Although still unclear, I do believe I am worth getting to know and love because in the end I believe I am a person of value. After all, God wanted me to stay here and he gave me Mark to get through the tough times with.