Trigger Warning: Suicide and Mental Health⚠️ This content addresses suicide and mental health, which may be distressing or triggering for some readers. Please read with caution!
The following 24 hours felt like a complete haze. The first thing I recall is waking up in an unfamiliar room, my mom gripping one hand and my sister the other. As I became more aware, I noticed I was in a hospital room, surrounded by countless wires and machines. It was at that moment I understood the gravity of my actions. I learned that my mom discovered me unresponsive in my bedroom, with a faint pulse and shallow breaths. She knew I had attempted suicide from the plethora of pill bottles that were found next to me. I was quickly taken to the hospital—the same one my dad had been taken to. Despite my heart stopping several times, I was lucky to arrive at the hospital alive. The first day was filled with uncertainty, but by the second day, my medical team felt confident that I was going to recover.
Upon waking up, a whirlwind of emotions washed over me. Regret was the first to hit. I instantly regretted my decision, not out of a newfound desire to live, but because of the pain and anxiety I had inflicted on my already fragile family. Watching my mom and sister in distress was a heavy burden to bear. At that moment, I realized I hadn’t considered their feelings when I took those pills—I didn't even leave a note. I took the easy way out which was deeply selfish. Facing my mom and sister afterward was anything but easy.
I spent around a week in the hospital before being moved to a psychiatric facility, where I participated in an intensive ten-week inpatient program. I finally experienced a sense of stability and support, with a dedicated therapy team working with me daily. I was prescribed some excellent mental medications and received careful monitoring. Additionally, I had the opportunity to meet some truly fascinating and engaging individuals. Perhaps the best part was the mediation and journal work. That’s where most of my personal growth and healing took place.
I felt anxious about going back home. I really enjoyed the structure of the program. My days were planned out and without outside stress, I was able to clear my head and see things for what they really were. While I had learned various coping strategies and resources to manage my complicated family dynamics, I still felt somewhat unprepared. With limited finances, finding my own place wasn’t an option, which restricted my ability to create distance. The initial weeks at home were challenging, but gradually things began to improve. My mom started attending therapy and an AA program, marking a significant milestone for both of us. Despite facing several setbacks in the first few months, she eventually embraced the process and began working the program. I credit much of her initial progress to her incredible sponsor, who has become like a second mother to me. I’m happy to report that my mom is currently sober, thriving, and even dating. I’m so proud of her!
When my sister saw the positive changes in both my mom and me, she decided to follow suit. The transformations were subtle at first, but soon I began to witness her rediscover her sweet and creative spirit. Painting became her refuge during tough times, and watching her express her deepest emotions on a blank canvas was truly inspiring. It didn't take long for us to recognize her genuine talent. Eventually, she launched her own little Etsy shop, where she now showcases her beautiful artwork. One of the most memorable parts of her healing journey was our late-night sleepovers in my room, which brought back the joy of our childhood and the comfort of each other’s company. In those moments, I often reminded her of how proud dad would be of us.
My aunt, who struggled severely with anorexia, went through treatment three more times that year. Each time, she made some progress, but it wasn't enough for her to achieve lasting recovery. However, similar to my mom and sister, she eventually began to piece her life back together and transformed into the aunt I had longed for. She moved in with my grandmother and took on the role of full-time caregiver, which gave her a renewed sense of purpose and pride. It also made her feel closer to her late brother because she knew it’s what he would have done. Sadly, my grandmother never fully recovered after the loss of her son and husband—how could she? Yet, with my aunt’s love and patience, she eventually stopped carrying around her husband's ashes and even hung back up a few family photos. She passed away with all of us by her side last year. I’m so glad I got to spend a few good years with her before she crossed over the bridge to meet my dad and grandpa. The day before she passed she told us she could see her husband’s shadow. She said it several times. 24 hours later she was gone. It brought us all a strange sense of relief to know she was finally at peace.
As for me, I never considered suicide again; that option was no longer on the table, regardless of how low I felt. My healing journey has been filled with many ups and downs, and it hasn’t always been easy. I know I can never return to the person I once was—she’s gone for good. However, thankfully I’ve been able to make a new path and watch a stronger version of myself grow from the ground up. It took a significant amount of time to process the deep, dark emotions that surround suicide and to uncover the layers that led to my attempt. Fortunately, both my family and friends supported me when I needed them most. As for my roommates, I've kept in touch with one of them; in fact, just a few weeks ago, I had the honor of being a bridesmaid at her lovely wedding. As for the other roommate, the one who had a brief fling with my boyfriend, I thought I’d never cross paths with her again. However, life has a funny way of bringing people back together at the most unsuspecting times!
About 6 months after my suicide attempt, I took that “gap year.” I dedicated a significant amount of time to intensive therapy and I traveled across Europe for three months. It was a breathtaking experience, truly healing, and just what my heart and soul needed. Before returning home to Minnesota, I ventured back to the states, heading west to explore the numerous national parks and forests. Before heading home for the summer, my final destination was Las Vegas! It was my first time visiting, and I figured it would be a great way to wrap up my year-long healing journey. A couple of my friends, including my old roommate, joined me for three exciting days in Vegas! To my astonishment, I ended up running into my other roommate at the New York-New York Hotel & Casino.
I mean, what are the odds? Pun intended! There she was, playing one of the slot machines, a sight I never expected or prepared for. Summoning my courage, I approached her to say hello. My girlfriends thought I was crazy but something in me told me to say hello. As it turned out, she was on a girls' trip with her mom and sister, staying at New York, New York. She spent the next ten minutes apologizing, expressing that she felt responsible for everything that had happened to me. She revealed that she had ditched Joshua two weeks after I caught them together. She mentioned that she often thought of me and my other roommate, believing we would never want to hear her name again. In a moment of compassion, I embraced her, surprising her and prompting tears to flow down both of our cheeks. In that instant, all my anger dissipated, replaced by a profound empathy for her. I let go of any resentment towards her, reassuring her that everyone makes mistakes and that my suicide attempt had nothing to do with her. It brought me a profound sense of relief, easing a heavy weight off my shoulders. In retrospect, this moment was vital to my healing process. It’s hard to believe that God doesn’t operate in mysterious ways. It’s almost as if He orchestrated our reunion. Although we never picked up our friendship from years ago, we still reach out to each other occasionally. I genuinely wish her all the best.
After returning home from my gap year, I completed my undergraduate degree in early childhood education. Today, I’m a proud 1st grade teacher. I often reflect on how far my family and I have come, and I know my dad is watching over us, filled with pride. His presence is felt in everything we do, and I feel incredibly fortunate. Many families face loss and tragedy, but few manage to recover and thrive like we have. My dad was the glue that held us together; he brought laughter and comfort during tough times, always the first to wipe away our tears. Losing him in such a tragic way led us down a dark path, as few are prepared for such immense grief. It’s important to understand that the pain doesn’t simply vanish after the funeral. We faced months of paperwork, legal calls, and court appearances to seek justice for my dad’s untimely death. Thankfully, the perpetrator was held accountable and is serving time for his actions. Drunk driving is entirely unacceptable and preventable.
The most significant lesson I've learned from this entire ordeal is that unfortunate things do indeed happen to good people. While we can't control what life throws our way, we have the power to choose how we respond. Even in our darkest moments, there is always a glimmer of hope. I've come to understand that suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary issue. The loss of my dad was the most challenging experience I've faced, but my attempt to take my own life came in at a close second. That choice didn’t fix anything; it only deepened my pain and fractured my family even more. Fortunately, with the unwavering support of my incredible family, friends, and community, I was able to heal, which allowed my mom, sister, and aunt the space to begin their healing journeys. We are all a work in progress, and some days are tougher than others, but we are definitely doing our best to honor my dad in everything we do.
I’m incredibly grateful to have discovered ReelChat. It fills me with joy to see such supportive and uplifting communities for everyday women like me. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Out of respect for my family and what they’ve endured, I’ve chosen to remain anonymous. My primary goal is to share a message of hope with those dealing with PTSD and/or grief. With all of the love and support I’ve received over the years, I've been able to piece together my brokenness and forge a vibrant new life and future that I look forward to! So to my family and friends, thank you so much for your continued love and support! Some of you may never read this, but if you happen to stumble upon this piece one day, I hope you know I’m dedicating this to all of you. Thank you for helping me pick up the pieces and begin to live again.
God Bless!
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