When I was a junior in high school, I struggled deeply with depression and anxiety. From August 2013 – December 2013 was one of the hardest times of my life. It started with losing my best friend. She meant the world to me. She was also the person I went to for everything. Up until this point she was my rock and she helped me through my issues with depression. But, she made the decision to stop being my friend because everything I went through was too much for her to handle anymore. Honestly, looking back on that now, I completely understand why she did what she did. But, at the time, it was devastating to me.  Along with this, I also got injured to where I was out of the season for soccer. During a practice, my leg shot for the ball wrong and I heard a pop. I went to the doctor and got an MRI and it turned out that my meniscus detached from my tibia. So, that meant I needed knee surgery. I looked at my life and it felt like I had nothing. I didn’t have my best friend anymore, I didn’t have soccer to use as an outlet, and I was deeply struggling with depression. That was a recipe for disaster.

It was November 3, 2013. I remember that day so vividly. It was my younger cousins birthday so the day was spent celebrating her at the local bowling alley. I remember feeling so numb  and so alone. When the party was over I went home and went straight to my room for the rest of the night. The longer that I sat in my room, the more depressed I got. It felt all consuming and I felt so numb to the world. It was to the point that if someone tried to talk me out of suicide, it wouldn’t work. I had been texting a friend at the time telling her that I couldn’t do it anymore. I was telling her I was too far gone and at the point of no return.

What happened next is something that I will always remember. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote my suicide note. I still have that note but I basically said that I am sorry and that there was nothing that anyone could do.

I pulled apart a disposable razor to where it was just the blade. I took that razor and started cutting myself everywhere. My arms, my legs, it was horrendous. I remember sobbing as I did this and being in so much pain. Then I blacked out and came back a little while later and waking up to blood everywhere. It was all over my body and clothes and the sheets of my bed. It honestly looked like someone died from a horrific crime. The days following were awful. I didn’t go to school because I didn’t want anyone to see what I had done. To be honest, I just felt like utter trash. That night didn’t change anything though. I tried to do once more about a week later.

As I sit here writing about this, I’m praising God. He didn’t have to save me from that. He could have just let me die but that’s not in his character. He is a God of love and sincerity. He wasn’t just going to let me die on my terms. It would be on his terms. He wasn’t done with me yet and he still isn’t.