From Deaths Perspective

The Day I Found Out WhyIm nervously picking at my fingernails, hands shaking on the keyboard as Im typing this. My lips are set in a tight, grim line. I stare down at the daunting prompt in front of my eyes, silently reading the words.

An incident which has had an important influence on your life.

I could think of so many. Im sure for most students, they would give you an incident in which their lives truly began. Perhaps theirs could be stories of stepping outside of their comfort zones or going on daring quests.

Mark Twain once said, The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. I found out my why the hard way. My influential incident was one that nearly costed my life. My life began the day I almost died.

On March 26th of 2015, I tried to kill myself.

When I reveal this to people, they find it shocking. Theyll say Im too smart, too pretty, too talented, too this, too that to have done so. Well, Im afraid the truth hurts, but depression knows no prejudice.

I have been struggling with depression since the 6th grade. It happened the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. I knew something was wrong with me when my thoughts slowly became darker with each passing day. My serotonin levels were shooting downwards at the speed of light. I literally could not be happy. However, there was no external reason as to why I was depressed. I had a happy childhood, a loving family, and supportive friends. I was living the life.

So why did I constantly wanted to die?

I constantly felt worthless and hopeless. The world seemed bleak and grey, like all the happiness and colour had been sucked out dry. Every day was a struggle to find the will to get out of bed and put on a smile. Despite my accolades and achievements, I couldnt help but feel useless half of the time. Happiness always felt too far away to be reached. It was the light at the end of the tunnel I could never touch.This isnt a story to garner your pity, by the way. This isnt a story to gain your sympathy. And this especially isnt the story of a depressed girl. Its of a girl with depression. Theres a difference. I am not to be defined by my depression alone. I am many things: a sister, a friend, a daughter, a lover, and so much more. However, a defining moment would be the day I attempted suicide.

It was a peaceful Thursday. My father was sleeping upstairs, my siblings were off to Taekwondo, and my mother was out shopping for groceries. Little did they know I was plotting to never see my graduation or prom.

I stepped into the kitchen quietly, leaning on the balls of my feet to not make any noise. I procured a glass bottle of cognac and 25 Trazadone pills. I took one last look before gulping down all the contents I held within my hand.

I remembered the cognac burnt as it went down. The pills scratched roughly against the back of my throat. My father walked in just as I finished swallowing and put two and two together.

After that, everything was a blur. My father called the ambulance and I passed out once the paramedics arrived.

In the hospital, I found God again. Every nurse or doctor I encountered told me that He saved me and that it was a miracle I didnt die. I eventually believed it. Growing up, I was a devout believer. When my depression hit hard, I stopped because I was angry at God. I was hurt. Why would He do this to me? As an act of revenge, I went around calling myself an atheist. But I now believe that God saved me that Thursday night. I realise now that He loves me dearly and that my depression was just one of many struggles to help me learn and develop and grow. God gives His strongest soldiers the toughest battles. And as His soldier, my battle was my depression.

Today, I am much healthier mentally. Thanks to the help of my parents, my friends, my psychiatrists, and my therapists, my depression has been dulled from a thunderous roar to a soft whisper. Oh, its still there. Itll be there for the rest of my life. I used to think I was too weak to withstand my depression. That feeling has morphed into an understanding that I have the strength to push beyond it. I can beat it. I can fight it. Battling your own mind is the toughest, but if you can overcome yourself, you can overcome anything. After all, you are your own worst enemy.

Finally, I am happy. I am whole. I am free.