Reflections after an attempted suicide.
Not many memories are as powerful as that of the day when you tried to kill yourself.
To suicide.
To set yourself free.
To get away from it all.
To move into absolute silence.
2nd December 2002 I attempted to do just that.
Tired of a spirit shattered by failures.
Tired of a mind ripped by torture.
Tired of a life poisoned by pain.
When one sinks so deep into the pit of frustration, depression and humiliation, what other way is left?
So the answer was clear to me.
So on 2nd December 2002
At 2’O clock in the darkness.
In the freezing temperatures of
I decided to end it all.
And my grave.
All alone in the blackness
I walked 17 miles
Right up to the highway
The Icy wind
The bone chilling coldness
The wet noise as my feet took me ahead
My face pale white
My teeth chattering
My fingers cold and numb
I stood at my destination.
The highway of death.
The lone road of going to a point of no return.
And there a light shone on my face
The angel of death
The fast moving truck
The final destination
The math was very simple.
A monstrous machine of madness moving at 100 km per hour
A diabolical demon of darkness that darkened everything at sight
A icy cold night that made everything slip its grasp
And there I stood in the corner
Blinded with its light
Knowing fully well that this was the moment
The moment that would end it all
The moment that would free me forever
The moment that would break those chains of pain
Closer and closer it came
Bigger and Bigger it became
Scarier and Scarier I felt
And there it came
A few more seconds
A few more breaths
A few more…and it was all over.
After 9 months of repeated blows both mentally, emotionally and spiritually
I could no longer handle it
I had failed beyond anything else
And I could not imagine going back home and showing my face of failure.
Rage welled up inside me
Bitter and Betrayal burned into my heart
It had to end.
It had to
And it would
I had left home with pride
I had left home with happiness
I had left home with hope
But now I was wasted.
So there I stood.
Just one more step ahead
And it was all over…
And I picked up my foot ready to take that step forward….
And then it happened…..
For the strangest reason
For which I could and would never be able to explain
It happened.
Just as I was about to take that step
I felt someone scratch my back…
Right from the time I was a child
From the time I was a baby
My mom always scratched my back
To put me to sleep
To make me feel comfy
To let me know how much she loved me
A ritual of love that continued well over my adult life
And at that moment
When I was freezing cold
When I was absolutely cold
When I was numb with cold
I felt my back being scratched.
And instead of moving that foot front….
I took that step….back
I turned around
And searched, screamed and sought my mom
The scratch felt so real
I actually searched for my mom
Crying
Weeping
Sobbing
I screamed her name
But no one was there
As the truck zoomed off
I lay there alone in the darkness
With rain, wind and mud slapping across my body…
I broke down and I wept bitterly
Wept my heart out
Wept all those 9 months of hurt
As minutes and minutes of silence went by
As tears and tears of pain poured by
As sobs and sobs of hurt washed by
I picked myself up from the dirt
And walked silently back home
I realized one thing
One small thing….
At that moment
In my deepest darkest most desperate hour
He was there for me.
He was there.
And in the words not said
In the exchanges not made
In the presence not shown
He made me realize
That I was here for a purpose
And he would not let go of me
He would not give up on me
He would not let me die
Until I proved and lived and breathed my destiny.
You see
Not many memories are as powerful as that of the day when you tried to kill yourself.
To suicide.
To set yourself free.
To get away from it all.
To move into absolute silence.
And in that most powerful moment
I realized
There was a God
And when I needed him the most,
He would be there for me.
He would be there.
May be you don’t believe in him.
May be you don’t believe in this.
May be you don’t think he exists.
That’s not important.
What is important for me is this
I experienced him in my life and I know for a fact….
That my God loves me.
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