Mental Health Inspiration

My mom always told me that she suff ered more than I did because I’m her child, and it hurt her to see me suff er. I always wondered how she could say that. She wasn’t the one locked up in mental hospitals on birthdays and holidays, or the one who felt life was so horrible that death seemed like the only solution. You were not the victim—I was. What I didn’t know was that when a family member has a mental illness, everyone was the victim. But, over the years, I became a survivor and was no longer a victim. I transformed my “woe is me” perspective and triumphed over my mental illness. I said good-bye to being isolated and withdrawn and feeling sorry for myself. I became resilient and strong. Victims can grow as people through obstacles and learn from life experiences. Th ey can see painful moments as opportunities to grow and shine, and they can love life as much as I do now. First, victims need to seek help. Victims can embrace the beauty of life. I believe even painful moments in our...

February 13, 2009 My soul was bleeding so much that night, and in a moment of weakness, I gave up. I just kept taking pills until all the bottles were empty. My suicide note was recorded on video on my web camera. Caylee’s cruel words rang loudly in my head, terrorizing me, haunting me. You want to kill yourself? Kill yourself! All you want is attention! Pua texted me Ecclesiastes 3, but not even the biblical verse that once saved my life was enough to stop me. I turned off  my cell phone and hid it. I didn’t want to be tempted to call 911. My friend and roommate, Yvonne, was out having fun. When she came home, she didn’t realize what I had done. She found me on the bed, my body stiff . I couldn’t speak. I was in and out of consciousness. I remember some of what happened, but not all of it. I tried to suff ocate myself with the pillow. Yvonne grabbed it off  my face. I remember hearing her snoring loudly at the edge of the bed and feeling excruciating pain all over my body bef...