How I'm Still Alive

I've had so much I want to say that I can't figure out what to say first. I have many posts started; this is the one I need to share first.

I AM A SURVIVOR!

This has taken me a VERY long time to say and to believe.

I look back at my life and I wonder why am I still alive; there have been many times when I didn't think I would.

I can answer the "why" by understanding the "how" I am still alive. The answer is simple but it takes a lifetime to understand, if it ever really can be understood.

The answer: God, my faith in Him and His in me.

To help me explain, let me tell you about some of the things God helped me endure. You will notice that in many situations I was graced with people who helped me, people God put into my life.

I was "teased" throughout childhood; that's what it was called back then. Today, it would have been identified as bullying. This was not physically life-threatening; after years of 'coping' (aka misdirecting my anger inward) I had my first suicidal ideations in high school. I will never forget the teacher with whom I was able to talk about these thoughts.

Suicidal ideations were stronger during my first year at college. Irnoically, it was because I found friends, good friends. I was afraid it was all a hoax, and they were going to abandon me as the kids did growing up; that pain was unbearable. After Mass one Sunday, I opened up to one of these friends, he listened, and he didn't judge.

When I was a bank assistant manager it was robbed. The man had a gun and for a few moments it was pointed at me. I had strength I didn't know existed. I didn't fall apart; I remained calm and remembered our training. Everyone was safe, we went back to work on Monday; we survived together.

I also lost both of my parents before I was 30. My mother passed away only 3 days after I moved into my first apartment. Four years later, I found my father dead on the floor of the apartment where I grew up. The grief is still sometimes unbearable. With the love and support of friends and family I am able to cope.

I experienced many physical health issues over the next few years. I had cancer twice, my gallbladder ruptured, other biopsies (thankfully they were all benign), and so on and so on. I always had help of amazing doctors and supportive friends. It was at this time I began to see how God was journying with me, I felt His presence in me. He sent Momma Mary to hold me one night, when I prayed for comfort; though I did not see her I knew it was her.

A few years later, I thought I was okay. I was in a place where I could (or should) find peace; unfortunately, that was not the case. I was bombarded with cituations that triggered me and the play button was pressed on my old tapes. With each trigger the volume cranked up to 100, then beyond; I couldn't quiet the self-hatred.

I prayed every day, multiple times I prayed, yet I still struggled. Every day I would journal, telling God how I wanted to die. In explicit detail, I wrote about the most horrific ways I should die; it needed to be slow and painful, and I needed to watch myself die.

I believed every breath I took was a lie. I spent every nanosecond of my life sinning by simply breathing. I convinced myself that everything that was wrong, or not perfect, was my fault. I apologized obsessively, the scrupulosity just kept getting worse. I truly believed that not only should I die but I should burn in Hell for eternity.

I came up with realistic ways to end my life, finally putting an end to my pain. I also realized that every option had the potential to cause someone else pain. I couldn't hurt anyone this way; my freedom wasn't worth it.

This whole time I was going to therapy and spiritual direction; both helped but they weren't enough. I confided bits and pieces of what was happening to close friends, it was still not enough.

The ONE thing that kept me going was my faith, knowing God loved me. I couldn't let Him hurt, not for me. I could not destroy His greatest to me, my life. I couldn't stop my brain's darkness but I always knew that there was a tiny speck of light deep down that could not be overtaken.

I finally felt capable of going to God with hope I might be worth living. I was blessed with the courage to ask my priest if he had time to talk, he did. He, like my friend so many years ago, listened to me and didn't judge. Shortly after this conversation I went to him for the Sacrament of Confession. Acting in personal Christi he spoke the words of absolution; for the first time in a long time, I felt I was allowed to breathe. The tapes were still playing, suicidal ideations continued to come, and I was now able to actively fight them. I continued to go to Confession, I NEEDED to hear those words of forgiveness. They were keeping me alive.

I slowly started being more present in my personal prayer and at Mass. One morning during the Consecration of the Eucharist as the Host was lifted up Jesus spoke to me, He said "I am here." I looked up and I saw the face of Jesus looking into my eyes; my entire being felt the truth of God's love and faith in me. I had the strength and courage to continue on. I found hope again; I was no longer a helpless case.

I continued to get help. I became a stronger person, with greater hope.

I was, and am, a SURVIVOR!

This is not to say that I am cured, there is no cure for mental health issues. I still have many days in which I struggle, but I fight back. With the help of my doctors, my friends and my faith I know that I am not fighting this alone.

There were other questions I often asked. Why are these things happening to me? What did I do to deserve this pain? There were times where I blamed God for 'giving' me these things, for making me go through them.

I now understand that God allowed me to have these experiences. He allowed me to get through these experiences, to survive. The pain I experienced helps me to see when others are in pain, even when they don't say it. I can listen with the understanding of the intensity of emotions. I understand the darkness, the hopelessness, the loneliness, the desire to die.

I understand that God is ALWAYS with them in thier pain.

I survived so I can share and hopefully help.

I survived so others may also survive may have hope.

I survived to live my life; a life that will not always easy; a life where I trust in the truth that God has faith in me.