Over the past couple of months, I have not written about my strong belief in angels. I don’t ask or need for you to believe what I say in this entry, but I can’t share my experience without doing so here. Not that I would want to anyway. I owe them my life.
Twenty years ago, I almost died. There was no accident. I wasn’t suffering from a terminal illness. I just didn’t want to fight against my tormented mind and my broken heart anymore. It wasn’t worth it, and I wasn’t worth it. I was lost, and I attempted to take my life.
When the roller coaster of emotions was climbing upward, I could recognize that everything would be alright. I could see possibilities all around me. But whenever the imminent crash would happen, my ability to perceive the relevance of my existence wouldn’t merely fade – it would disappear. The darkness would swallow me whole.
I had struggled for years with the unpredictability of manic depression. I read the books. I met with the doctors. I took the pills. But I couldn’t make it stop. It was as if I had no control over my life or my sanity. I could see it. but I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to turn off the noise. Turn off the pain. Turn everything off.
I couldn’t hurt myself or anyone else anymore. I couldn’t stay any longer. I couldn’t hold on. I took the pills. Handfuls of them. I was blind with confusion and hurt. I was going under and I wanted to let go.
I stood in the little bathroom with the empty pill bottle in my hand, and I heard a clear voice that was not my own. “This is it. You have to do something NOW.”
A switch flipped inside me in an instant. Immediately my head became clear and my mind snapped to attention. I knew what I had heard, and I understood exactly what it was saying to me.
I had to get those pills out of my body right away. I tried to throw them up but I couldn’t. I calmly approached my mother and told her that I needed ipecac syrup or some other medicine that would force me to vomit. She was terrified but managed to track some down. I can still envision the countless pills floating in the water. Even though I had expelled the pills within minutes after taking them, I still slept for two straight days.
That experience changed me on every level. It didn’t make the ups and downs go away. It didn’t stop my anxiety problems, my OCD tendencies, or my mercurial emotions. I didn’t become the easiest person to be friends with nor did I become a dream family member at all times (or even most times, but I really do try). However my eyes were opened. I realized that I was supposed to be here, I was not alone at any point, and my life had value. I didn’t have the slightest idea about the blessings I would receive nor did I understand those I would give. I didn’t understand my true value, and I suppose, to a very great extent, I still don’t. But I knew then that my worth was beyond measure.
I matter. We all do.
There are moments in our lives that can change everything. Our destinies can be shaped over time or they can be flipped in an instant. When you have depression, the finality of that choice can be lost when you are in the darkness. It will pass.
There is more light around you and in you than you could ever imagine. There is beauty and wonder and love and hope and magic. And there are angels.
Your life is precious, and you are never alone.
Do not give in to the illusion of endless darkness. There is no darkness without the light. The sun is always there even when you can’t see it. Just give it a little more time.
Hold on a bit more. Let the possibilities of your life become beautiful realities. Never give up on hope.
You can’t fathom what you would never want to miss.
In love and light always – Joanna
***There are countless photos I wanted to include of others who make my heart smile, but I didn’t need to ask permission from this crew. 🙂
Momentum of Joy 