I will try to keep this short and sweet. I’ve suffered from depression, anxiety, and destructive behavior for as long as I can remember. But things started to stack against me at the beginning of 2015. Basically, this time two years ago began my downward spiral. My boyfriend cheated on me and ended up getting engaged to the girl. I felt not good enough. I hated my job. I hated college. I hated my life.
So on May 26, 2015, I tried to take my life with a gun. Being a girl, the doctors and nurses were completely surprised and not sure what to do with a girl with a gunshot wound to her chest. I had to have blood transfusions and two life-threatening surgeries to save my life because I was all but dead. My angels were breathing for me that’s for sure.
All in all, I had my spleen removed, a nicked heart and liver, a collapsed and later infected lung, my stomach had to be put back together as best as possible. I severed a lot of nerves in the ordeal so I had to learn how to stand and walk and even put on socks by myself. My recovery took many, many months. I was in the hospital for a month. But I survived. I got this tattoo last June to honor the day that almost destroyed me but instead put me back together.
I have my bad days and good days. Right now, as of this writing, I’m dealing with a lot of anxiety but it’s not as bad as it was that day. It’s true that you have to fight for your life for you to understand the value of life. I hope no one gets down reading this because I want to share my story here as a sign of hope for someone else. Things can be fixed if you give it time and tell someone. I wish I would have handled things differently that day because I’m still dealing with and always will be dealing with repercussions of that event.
But that was my turning point. I’ve never been that low since and hopefully I never will.
I just want to tell you, the person reading this, that you are loved. You are important. Life is worth living. There is hope.