You cannot
even begin to understand how huge it is for me to say that, some of you can
because you have been there too, but some of you have no comprehension of the
blessing that being alive can be. I
almost wasn’t. I talked a lot about finding
my version of happiness, well to every high there is a low, and my low was
bad. March was hard for me…impossible
would be a more correct term.
Insanity is
pale orange, and there are no locks on the bathroom doors, and all you can
write with is a 3 inch golf pencil. Your
pants have no strings and you walk around with a blanket around you to stay
warm, because it is cold there. There
are no cell phones, and you can only call your family the last 15 min of each
hour. But I learned early on that Christ
walks with you there, He sits with you, He sleeps with His arms around you…He
even goes to art therapy and the cafeteria with you, when you are allowed to
go. God makes his love manifest by the
people who care for you and check on you every 15 minutes while you sleep. By the people who give you pictures to color
and the people who teach you to breathe and the people who accept you for who
you are and don’t look at you like there is something wrong with you. The people look at you with nothing but
concern and caring, because they love you and want nothing more than you to get
better. Each morning and evening you
have a number, a word, a goal, and something to be thankful for…and people
applaud when you are an eight or nine.
When you leave everyone gives you a hug and tells you that you are loved
and that you can get better. That is the
epitome of God’s love.
Life is
hard, and sometimes the cards that you are dealt make it impossible to live. I have lost several members of my family to
suicide, and last month my family almost lost me. My cards, combined with my illness made it
almost impossible to continue in this life.
My body had left me in such agonizing pain that I wanted to no longer
live to have to endure it. I felt as if
my skin were on fire, and nothing the doctors did could make it stop. I got lost, I couldn’t see the light anymore,
and hope was all but abandoned. I could
no longer function, I could no longer care for my children, and I could no
longer endure. You see, in order to
endure you must first have hope and reason for doing so, and I had
neither. All I had was an abiding desire
to stay for my children, but I could no longer do it alone…I needed
professional help, and I needed it quickly.
I called and placed myself under suicide watch; I didn’t know where they
would take me but I did know that they would keep me alive and give me the
medicine I needed.
Under
suicide watch your life is no longer yours, but belongs instead to the people
who care for you. This is what I needed,
and my only instinct was to trust the people who watched over my life. Where I was I know without a shadow of a
doubt that those people were inspired of God as to how best to care for my
illness. I have only felt that close to
God in one other place, the temple. I,
of my own free will and choice, put my life in their very capable hands…and
they saved it. More than that, they
helped me rediscover the strength inside me so that I could remain here upon
this earth.
Recovery is
going to be long and extensive, but I have re-learned the value of living in this
moment. I can breathe again, which I don’t
think that I have really done for years.
I am left with a tremor that manifests itself when I am anxious or under
stress. I take a lot of meds, but I can
see the light again, and feel God’s love all the time. I still find joy in the simple things, and
rely most heavily upon my schedule.
There is comfort in routine and consistency. I have anxiety now…in almost all situations
that are outside of my home and routine.
I have an allergist who says I am allergic to everything. But, I AM ALIVE! That is the really important part. I am not the do everything mom with sticker
charts and a jogging stroller, but I am enough being exactly who I am. I am enough and I am loved. That is my reason, that is my hope, and that
is why I am still here today. I know now
that all I have to do is be the best “me” I can be, and that is enough for me,
and that is enough for God. I love the
person I am now, right now, in this moment.
And I am still here to care for my children, and for that I am grateful.
Hi, my name
is Cristy. My number is an 8, my word is
“content”, my goal for today is to keep breathing, and I’m thankful for love
and the fact that I am surrounded by it.
