The Suicide Project

Swallowed by despair and desperation....pleading for mercy and relief....wishing you could just rip you own heart out and smash it against the ground to make it stop beating....you debate. Should I or shouldn't I? 

At first you consider how your loved ones will feel if they find you dead. Then at some point,  you hurt so much you either convince yourself that they would be better off without you, or you simply don't care anymore. The emotional pain so profound that it consumes the life from you. You don't want to die. You just don't want to live like this. You can't live like this any longer. 

It is as if your body is on fire, and you know with no uncertainty that you will die a slow unbearable death fully conscious, so you beg for someone to end your suffering. You beg God to take your life, to spare you pain. You can take no more. 

With intense physical pain, the body is often merciful enough to close down your mind because it cannot deal with the pain. With emotional pain, it is rarely so merciful. You must endure until you feel as if you will explode and you wish you would. 

In these moments, the desperation to end the suffering is inexplicable. Until you have felt it, no words can give it proper measure. 

I have been one of the few who have been there and survived. I held a gun to my head. I cut my wrist.  I have driven toward a curve so fast praying to God that I wouldn't make the curve, but crash into the mountainside. I have mixed my pills with alcohol hoping I wouldn't wake up the next morning. I have stood on a bridge trying to get the nerve to jump.

And I am only one of many. Suicide rates are highest among gays, lesbians, bisexual and trans-gender people. I know few who have not tried it. Rejection from our families, our churches, our friends, our society, and our God lead us to deep despair. Yet suicide is not just a GLBT experience, it is universal.  It is a human condition.

A  friend recently asked me, what stopped me from doing it? Why am I alive 15 years later? The answer is not simple. And I certainly will not say "by the grace of God" because that would infer that those who did not survive did not deserve God's grace. 

In my most deepest moment of desperation, I sat by the river on Netherland Inn Road in Kingsport, TN. I had cut my arms several times. I cried out to God asking him why in the hell would he not change me into a straight person? Why was I like this? Why did he make me an abomination? I had come out to my husband a few years before and had begged and pleaded with God to take this desire from me because I loved Phillip. But God didn't take it away. I knew if I left Phillip, that he would no longer be allowed to pastor another southern baptist church again. This was his dream. If I were dead, they would have pity on him. If I were gay, then they would judge him. Wouldn't he be better off if I were dead?

The only thing that saved me that day was one thought. I would give life a little more time to see what happened. I thought if there was the slightest chance in the world that there was happiness out there for me, then I would miss it if I were dead. I reserved the right to kill myself. I had to. I had to feel I had an escape. In giving myself that permission, I gave myself time. 

It was not easy. I won't lie and say that there was a miracle and everything suddenly got better. I was lucky that I had a husband who was willing to adjust his dream and to love me enough to let me go. He has never once made me feel guilty about my decision to live even though he is still  not allowed to pastor after 15 years. We are in fact, still friends.

A little over a year after our divorce, I met someone and moved away. I began to heal and grow into the person God made me. I made peace with God. I realized that by living the life he has given me, I am honoring him. I am no abomination. I am his precious child.

Even now, in the despair that has visited me recently, I have been able to keep going because I proved to myself that life does get better. It does not get perfect. However, if I look back on all the things I would have missed if I made that final cut or pulled that trigger long ago, I am happy that I am still alive. 

This year, I lost my love of 10 years. I faced cancer and the surgery that came with it. I am under heavy financial pressure from medical bills and trying to save my home. I am still in physical pain from the surgery and a back injury. I worry that I cannot feed the 20 + animals that are now in my care on my meager salary. I have panic attacks that put me in inexplicable terror. I struggle with self punishing behaviors such as cutting. But I am alive.

If I had not survived this year, I would not have seen the development of Whisper Creek as a ministry. I would not have met a huge family of loving people like me through Wipeout Homophobia. I would not have met my new love. I would not have witnessed my affect as a writer on other people. I would not have seen myself become a person who can reach out to others because of the hardships I have faced. I would not have seen what a strong and loving human being I can be. There are so many blessings I would have missed!

I know there are so many people who are so tired. I know the desperation you feel. I know the temptation to pick up the knife, the gun, the rope, the pills. Know this: You are loved. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are a gift to this earth. It does get better. You may go around the next corner and walk directly into your new love. You may get a phone call from someone telling you they are sorry that they hurt you. You may login to Facebook and find a brand new friend who will stand by you no matter what. 

  If you are dead, none of these things will happen. 

Just wait...a little bit longer. Put down the weapon. Let the sun rise one more time. You are loved. If you want to give yourself permission to take your life later, then do it. Whatever keeps you alive now. You are important to this world. You may not see your importance right this second, but someone, somewhere needs you. Someone is waiting to love you. Life is waiting to give you blessings. They are coming. Relief is coming.  
It will be okay, my friend.