I heard the gunshot and the burning in my chest, as I fell to the floor in my own pool of blood. On May 10, 2017, I wanted to REALLY DIE. I awoke in the hospital pissed off at the world. How was I still alive? I had a DNR in my health care directive but I guess it can be over ridden in a suicide attempt. I was in so much pain and I thought to myself, I couldn’t even kill myself right. My theory was that if I killed myself the pain would ultimately stop. In my mind it was the only solution! 

How I got to that day, well, it was a series of life changes. I had two alcoholic parents when I was young. I had to be the mom for my two younger brothers. My father proceeded to get help for his alcoholism. He has been sober for almost 40 years now and I have never been more proud of him. 

My mother proceeded into another marriage with a new drinking partner, or that’s what I thought. She had four more children with her new husband. I felt so alone, and looking back, I think that’s when my depression began.

As a teen my father remarried and I did not care for her. Typical teenager, I thought I knew everything. All I felt was I had to share my father now. My attitude was shit. I never gave her a chance. I never really had a relationship with my mother after I went to live with my father until I was pregnant with my son. I felt she resented me for going to live with my father. 

And of course I got pregnant at 18 to the boy who paid any attention to me. I had my son, I was a single mom and not a very good one. Again, I was alone, scared, and depressed. I ended up going to some college and got my associates degree and not my masters, which was in my life plan. Looking back, I think I resented my son for me not getting my masters. To this very day I am so ashamed of myself for not treating him like he was a gift from God. I can never go back to get a re-do and I have to live with that for the rest of my life with that,  and come to some kind of acceptance that I did the best I could do at that time.

At age 29, I met my husband. I never felt I was good enough for him or I thought to myself, what did I do to deserve this beautiful, caring man. I have never had much confidence in myself and I struggled with that today. We made two beautiful daughters out of our love. My children are what motivate me to deal with my anxiety ad depression every damn day!

Then the rug was ripped out from under me yet again. I got sick. I mean really sick. I spent months in the Mayo Clinic with multiple surgeries. It took a great toll on my marriage. I went from working mom, running marathons, and being a great wife to being dissabled and disfigured. Another change! I prayed to God everyday, please no more changes I can’t handle anymore.

My depression worsened as my marriage came to an end. I lost everything, and I mean everything  My depression increased. My daughters were taking care of me. I put them through hell and back again. I had two, maybe three  more attempts at suicide in the course of a year. No one could save me. Not my family, not my children, not a man I started seeing. I was paralyzed in my own body and scared all the time.

May 10, 2017 was the day I couldn’t take anymore! I was at odds with my boyfriend, had been let go from the job I love, lost my best friend, all because of my depression. Then later that day I stole my father's 9 mm handgun out of his truck counsel. I never held a gun before, I didn't know how to use one. I had a friend show me how to use it. Some friend huh? She knew what I was going to do and never attempted to stop me. I had pandora playing on my speaker.

Whiskey Lullaby came on and I listened to the words and then I pulled the trigger. Aiming for my heart, because my heart was broken into a million little pieces and the bullet went to my lung.

Some days I still struggle with my depression and anxiety but I had received help, intense help. I felt the healthcare system failed me but I have found I have to help myself along with mental health care workers. I did just do that! I have faced my demons, shame and guilt head on. I don’t feel broken in a million little pieces, maybe a hundred pieces, some days a thousand pieces. Coping with my depression is hard work, some days really hard work. But now, all those changes led me to where I am today. 

I remarried September 27, 2019. He was my first kiss and my first boyfriend in highschool. I dumped him in the 11th grade because he wouldn't go to prom with me. Thirty- two years later he finally danced with me at our wedding. I am still a work in progress. I am stil trying to repair relationships with my son, two daughters and the rest of my family, due to my suicide attempt. 

My hope is that someday they will trust me enough to see me more than they actually do. Until that day comes I will take what I can get. Just because I struggle with mental health doesn’t make me broken, It makes me human!!!! 

A Million Little Pieces