I remember the night, my kids were at their dad's and I was way past my wits end. Stone cold sober I was curled up like a baby on the kitchen floor crying my eyes out because I couldn't see past the last hour. The screaming and arguing with the kids to go to their dad's in the first place. The acceptance that perhaps even I, needed a break. It was a long night of tears and screams... and admittedly breaking dishes (which I don't recommend - it messes up the garbage disposal - then you have a whole new problem). Of course as I was on the floor lots of things ran through my mind. I thought about how Mom used to play music full blast when she was in a "mood". How she drank when she was in a "mood". How she would get herself into a cleaning fit to the point where no one could sleep when she was in a "mood". I decided I didn't like those options. Instead Ichose death, obviously I'm still here.
I put on Gordon Lightfoot "Sundown" my forever favorite song and got the big knife out of the kitchen and sat back on the floor in the kitchen. I figure if I sliced my wrists quickly enough it wouldn't hurt... that is what others had said any way. So I sat there, and I sat there, then I called the counselor and sat there some more. Then I prayed to God to tell me what to do. He answered much more quickly than I expected and very directly. He told me to put the knife down and to get up and quit my whining. That I had work to do, I had kids and students that depended on me and that he wasn't done with me yet. My job was to go to the school and work with the kids the rest of the world had given up on, the autistic children... the kids no one else would work with... and so I dried my tears, pulled up my boot straps and got on with life.
God himself saved me that day - he gave me purpose when I had none, he gave me love when I had none, he accepted me where I was and carried me to a new place. Yet again my life was changed.
Peace and Love,