I’ve hesitated to touch on this taboo and extremely delicate topic from the time I launched this blog. With all the riots and history taking place on what is practically our front lawns, it has occurred to me that I too want to become more vocal about my burden for humanity
We are broken, and certain matters have been slipped under the rug that should remain there no longer.
However the conflict arises: How do I address something so multifaceted and delicate? Something that each person who experiences it experiences differently? Something that is the cause of so much grief horror and confusion! How do I even address suicide?
At 23 years old and an full of experience with suicidal ideation and attempts, I believe that my current expertise lies in revealing what goes on in the mind of someone suicidal, and how to reply to cries for help. It is all the help I can offer to this point.
The reality has been that holding on to my concept of what my life should look like, has never had the power to overrule the sovereign will of God. I know that I can trust him.
What if I am never healed from this debilitating series of mental illnesses? My response to this notion is that healing has never been limited to the removal of an ailment or the eradication of a thorn of flesh. Healing is an intimate walk with Jesus, and is a lifelong process of surrender.
When I lay alone in hospital beds wondering if endless panic attacks will cease, I surrender. When at home in the mix of a daily routine and feeling once and for all totally human, and triggers of PTSD threaten, I surrender. When despair beckons and chronic depression mixed with thoughts of suicide usher me once again into hospital doors, I surrender.
A pope once said: “Healing is the entire content of what Jesus came to do.”
“To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair.” –Isaiah 61:3