The Day I Decided to Die

One of the most uncomfortable places I have been is the place where I feel comfortable.  It is the place that I go where I have convinced myself that the world can not affect or offend me. It is the place that I live when I feel abandoned or afraid. It is my quiet spot. I sit there and I connect with God and it is as if only he and I exist. But in the back of my mind I am so uncomfortable, because I know that this place is temporary. I still have children to raise and a life to live, illness, betrayal,  and on and on.

I would be a liar if I didn't share my pain with you all. I would be a hypocrite and a phony if I didn't say my faith has been tested in the last three weeks. And I won't be any of those things because my truth is why I share my story. My truth,,,,sometimes the hardest and saddest things live in the truth.

When I started having seizures I had a long talk with my family. I learned in one week that my MS was progressing, my seizures were increasing, my lungs were not at full capacity and my muscle weakness was at it's worst. I went into my closet and I looked at the wall. I noticed that I had more than 14 pair of shoes in boxes that I had never worn, ever. I could not for the life of me remember when or why I purchased them but I was sure I never wore them. A couple of pair were gifts. I am blessed in that way, People often send me shoes, books, scarves, even caftans or slippers. And I always send a thank you note because I learned at the age of 8 people do not have to do extra for you. So always show appreciation.

I Chose Life!!

I started ripping the shoe boxes open one at a time. The first 3 were black. I already own 30 pairs of black shoes, why on earth did I have more. I started crying. I looked up on the shelves and began to count the designer handbags many with tags on them. And some were gifts. One thing about me and handbags is, I love to give them away. I just feel like every woman should be gifted a nice handbag in her life. I stood up and I started throwing them off of the shelves. Not one pair of shoes or one handbag was going to help me now. As a matter of fact it hit me that I only have sons, so even when I am gone these THINGS will end up donated or given away or sold. And my life will have not been about any of it. My suffering would have not been worth any of it. I get retail therapy. I know it helps sometimes. But for me in this closet right now I wanted an escape and there was not one to be found.

I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and I deleted my Facebook. I felt like the encouragement and inspiration I was giving everyday was no longer worth anything because I could not encourage myself. I had a mirror on a shelf in the closet. I grabbed it and I looked at it as hard as I could. I could not find myself, I was gone. I had finally given up. I really had, I had decided that I could no longer fight the battle that I once knew I could win. I was ready to surrender in the worse way.

I could hear my sons calling me and the house phone ringing but it was as if it were all going on in someone else's house. I walked out the closet and I grabbed my medication basket, I take a total of 18 medications and two injections each day. I started taking out the meds I would normally take and then I doubled the pain and muscle relaxer meds as well as one sleep med and I doubled my seizure med. I lay it all on a pillow and I stared at it. I closed my bedroom door and I knelt down in prayer. I was making what I thought was a conscious decision to end my own misery. I know what suicide does to families. I know how I felt when one of my older boys was going through depression and wanted to die. I know how many times I had convinced someone else that their value was so much more than they realized......but I just could not convince myself I was worth the fight anymore.

As I prayed and tried to explain to God why I felt this was my only option my 6 year old knocked on my door. I tried to ignore him. His voice has always calmed me, I didn't want to be calm. But he would not give up. He called out to me and knocked on that door maybe 60 times. Finally I said, "What is it Bird???" There was a long pause......and then he says "Whatcha doing?" I had no response. I said,...."Praying" He said, "Oh let me pray too." I looked at the pills laid out on the pillow and I looked at the door. I looked up and said "Really Lord?" I knew just as God did that I would not take all those pills and let my child in that room. I would not want my boys to find me in that way. The desire to end my life wasn't gone but the timing was wrong. I took a deep breath.

I put all the pills into an empty pill bottle and I opened the door. There he was, my Baby Bird, my 6 year old son who really had became my hero after I watched him fight illness all of his life. He smiled and said "What are we praying about?" I held in the tears and I said, "We are praying for mommy to get better and never give up." He smiled at me as if God had told him to. He wrapped his arms around me and said "I need you Mom why would you ever give up?" I just held him. I think I held on tighter to him in that moment than I have in his entire life. So he looked at me and said "You always tell us that as long as you stay in the race you win, right?" I said "YEP/" He said "Fist bump for staying in the race Mom." and he punched my fist. I told him I loved him and I said okay go play. He said "After we pray right?" I was so overwhelmed at the way God or the Universe or my guardian angel had used this child to save my life. After we prayed I just cried. But this time it was tears of joy. It hit me how close I had come to giving up. How close I had come to leaving my family. I am not ashamed of this MOMENT. I am Blessed by it because God saved me one more time from myself.

I am living in a state of panic and fear and confusion for no reason at all. Because however I die, whether it be from illness or not, I have no right to take my own life. I have given a part of myself to so many people and created a family that depends and loves me. How dare I feel like a bad week meant a bad life? I know if you are reading this and you have ever suffered with the idea of suicide you know what I mean. I was very angry with myself for even thinking about it. But the truth for me was I was emotionally and spiritually ripped up. And physically broken down. I was giving MS and RA and Scleroderma the ending that I swore I would not give. I will be honest people have hurt me recently that I would have never expected. But that is not MY HURT to claim. It is theirs.
I had entered that dark room that I blogged about when Robin Williams died. I was beat or at least I felt like I was beat. But I reminded myself that MY LIFE was not just MINE. Just as MY PAIN was not only mine. I had shared it and allowed so many to witness it. I couldn't just leave.

My day to day life is a blessing. I have the most wonderful family and friends. I just am so afraid that my failing health will one day fail them, When in actuality, committing suicide was failing them. Giving up after teaching them to NEVER QUIT was failing them. Suicide is not a selfish act in some cases. In my case I was sick and tired of being sick. I was afraid of being paralyzed or unable to care for myself. I had traded in my faith for fear. I was afraid of eht tomorrow would bring. I had no intention to hurt anyone I was simply tired of hurting.

I am on a journey. I am on a road that I have no map for, no gps, no idea which way to go. But I realize now that whatever my quality of life is, I will never be alone I realized and I understood that living the best I can and taking everyday individually was all I could do. There could one day be a cure for all that ails me. I want to be here for that.  But no matter what I will never forget that I CHOSE LIFE the day that I decided to die.

Blessings