three years

Today marks the third year of the day that I made my first attempt to end my life. My life as I knew it was ending. I had no way of knowing at the time how differently beautiful my life would become. I felt completely alone and the only way out that I could see was to end the intense pain I was feeling. I just wanted that pain to end. I remember taking my pills that were meant to help me sleep and drinking the alcohol I used to wash them down with and just wanting to sleep forever. There was an incredible disappointment I felt when I woke up and not being successful.

Today is also my monthaversery as my new husband calls it. He has a reminder on our calendar of the day we met and each month, he gives me a kiss and tells me “happy monthaversary,” (He kisses me every other day as well, in case you were wondering – lol.) I think it’s symbolic in some way (the universe has a weird sense of humor at times) that the 9th was my worst and one of my best days.

I still struggle and I would be lying if I said I don’t. It’s why I focus every day on what is good in my life to help my anxious mind, especially during a time when other things I use to distract me are simply not available due to the pandemic. I would not have had the pleasure of seeing my grandkids grow and would have completely missed the birth of my youngest grandchild. And continuing to enjoy seeing my kids grow into amazing adults who care about their families and this world. So yes, a lot to be grateful for!

Meditating, painting, writing, gardening, cooking – all different parts of creating have also helped. I am grateful to the pandemic for slowing my life down enough to help me rediscover a huge part of me that I feel was lost for a long time.