I don't choose to hide my truth in some closet in hopes of fooling anyone. I make no claims to owning the answers for mental health. I am not the authority on anything.
I follow a few social media style support networks for Christians with depression, and it baffles me that in 2020 we still hear the misguided answer that the devil is living in us through this mental illness. Allow me to correct this with calm words on a screen, as in person, it may get heated.
From far away, things look regular and routine. However, up close, you see the jagged edges and broken pieces of a shattered soul. When I step into myself, I face a stranger.
Tonight I remember Amy Bleuel, founder of Project Semicolon. She was the voice for many. Her encouragement and dedication to the fight against suicide was empowering.
She grew tired and lost her battle. On this night, I get it.
What caused a happy, beaming mother to be to decide to use one last time? I will never know. Perhaps the thought of it being the last time never entered her mind.
Does it ever?
I went into shock. It took an hour or so to come around and comprehend. When I grasped the truth of the situation, I began sobbing uncontrollably.
We talk about mental illness and death after suicide, but it seems beneficial to discuss the reality that before there came suicide, there was a mental illness. Just like before there came an overdose; there was an addiction.
Satan longs to pull me in. His world of hopelessness calls to me and uses any situation to tear me down. I won't be keeping that company.
Not today Satan.
Closed forever, the blue green eyes. Where the breath was stolen amid hopeless lies. And conversations ceased, the truth unseen. To the turmoil now left behind.