Donate to Break the Cycle of Guilt and Pain

I'm asking for your help to raise money for the ND Chapter of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and in return I will tell my story with the hopes that it reaches those that need to hear it.

I've dealt with suicidal thoughts for most of my life and until recently never really knew why. I had a normal childhood growing up, but there was a time in my pre-teens where my behavior changed, I started having nightmares, and my grades slipped. I was seen by professionals, went through juvenile court, and after a year-long grounding by my parents, I was finally put back on the right track. The way I acted for those two years always haunted me because I never knew what made me react that way.

Fast forward throughout the years, and the guilt just ate away at my self-esteem. It wasn't until I started drinking that I finally felt the escape from it. I kept it social and finally felt like I belonged wherever I went. But that sense of belonging is addictive, and as the years progressed, whenever I'd go out, it'd take more drinks to feel it. By the time I was 23, I had been hospitalized twice for suicidal ideation and had one failed attempt.

I knew drinking was the issue, so I stopped for a short period of time, but being young, FOMO got the best of me. When I was 24, I was arrested for another DUI. At that very moment, I thought my life was over and was determined to see it through this time. I spent the first day in jail planning out every detail. How. Where. When. Now all I needed to do was bail myself out of jail. I requested that they use the cards in my wallet, but they came back declined. I frantically requested to split the amounts between the cards. Declined. I spent the next 3 days committed to figuring a way to bail myself out because I was convinced my life was over. On day 4, I finally came to my senses and called my parents.

I quit drinking that day. I improved my life, set goals, mostly came to terms with my past and tried new hobbies. Weightlifting. Running. Biking. Modeling (just kidding). Anything to just keep moving forward. After going on anti-depressants and implementing the above I was finally able to have more good days than bad.

When a mutual friend took their own life I recall a friend telling me "there's time's where I think that I'd rather be dead, but that's normal I think." It might be normal after a bad golf swing but is it normal after getting home from a night of laughter with friends? Is it normal when sitting on the couch trying to relax? I think it's common, but is it normal? For me this is where the guilt was. There is no worse feeling than the guilt of unhappiness when you know that you're surrounded by love.

It wasn't until a recent "never have I ever been so scared in my life" moment to remember that I had been. When I was 11.

I was eating from a bag of chips in the front yard of a friend's house when a man approached me. He was there to pick up his daughter from the neighbors, and she had told him that I was throwing rocks at her, so he confronted me. My heart started racing, but I confidently told him the truth. Maybe a little too confident because as I reached for another chip, he ripped the bag out of my hands and threw it to the ground. I could feel the force of his grip as he pulled me in by the collar of my shirt, and I could see the anger in his eyes while he said, "If it were legal, I'd fucking kill you." He then shoved me back a few steps with such force as he turned back toward his van. I just stood there as my heart started beating out of my chest, and I had this overwhelming sense of fear flowing through my body. I couldn't catch my breath, and as I made my way to the backyard, my chest just kept getting tighter and tighter. As I made my way to a chair, the world started spinning and seemed to go dark while I was hyperventilating so bad I couldn't breathe. That's when the nightmares started.

That one interaction fueled by anger changed my behavior that day.

I know it because I could feel it.

When I could finally feel what happened that day, I felt the same warmth that I did when I woke up in the hospital.

I felt happy to be alive.

(f/f: Don't be alarmed if you don't hear from me after this post. I will have no cell service for a week)

(I did not have a heart attack)