Despair, Depression and Suicide
The crisis was over. It took three years for me to declare it. Within that time, by the grace of God, I uncovered and recovered from lost memories of abuse I had endured and survived, at the hands of a criminal predator when I was a child. The perpetrator from my past was found guilty and sentenced to 18 years in the State Prison, of similar crimes after I turned him in to authorities. I was 26 years old at the time. My heart was healed and my life as a wife and mother seemed restored by the help of a Christian counselor, family and friends.
But residue from the crisis lingered in my thoughts and prayers. Instead of gratitude for God’s constant presence and comfort that strengthened my faith, I was bitter and ashamed about what happened. I allowed the pains of the past and circumstances surrounding the crisis define me. I held on to the sadness of the events. And I believed the lie that I was odd, damaged, and a misfit in the world of Christian Women because of the horrible things I saw and experienced when I was a child. And the most persuasive lie was believing that I failed in my role as a wife and mother.
The moment came quickly when I succumbed to melancholy. It was after I acknowledged a better future was out of my reach and my family would be better off without me. I planned and prepared to take my own life. The kids were at a babysitters, my husband was working out of town and I was traveling to where I decided to write my goodbye letter. I said a prayer when God reached down and around me and opened my eyes to a different perspective—through his eyes. He struck down the lies I was in bondage to and gave me a visual truth that rescued me from suicide, depression, and despair.