Holding Me
I was reading a textbook chapter for a Psychology class.
It was about death, depression... and suicide.
This is a tough topic as it is... but I had an extra hard time while writing my responses to the chapter for this class. You see, I have had several people close to me that make this subject hit close to home.
A few years ago, I was in youth group at my home church back in California. I had been friends with a young girl who came from a rough home. Take a deep breath with me as I go back for a moment.
Her dad was abusive. He raped her many times. She had so much of her value and self worth stripped away from her since she was a young girl. While I remember her as a friend who could laugh so hard tears rolled down our faces and we held our tummies because they ached with laughter, I also remember looking into the eyes of a girl who was so hurt and unsure and afraid. Eventually, she grew blossomed beautifully. But she couldn't see that. She only saw her brokenness, her incompetence, her past. This led to her self harming herself. Bulimia, cutting, and eventually, suicidal behaviors were the tumble downhill that she tried so hard to travel alone.
My friend was a bit younger than I was. So I took upon myself a bigger sister kind of a role. I reported to our choir teacher when we were on a ministry trip. She was trying to self harm and was contemplating suicide. She demanded that I not tell a soul, but I knew she needed help.
Truthfully, I took a moment to weigh our friendship's trust verses her well being. I wasn't even sure this lady who I would tell would be able to do anything. What if my friend never trusted me again? And what if me going for outside help was futile?
Well, we were able to get her some help and some counseling. Her high school became a support through the counseling services and she eventually thanked me.
But then she spiraled again.
The self harm came up. Her arms and legs and thighs and stomach were patterned with her cutting like grained wood. but she insisted she didn't do it.
Again, she became suicidal.
The next part of the story becomes a blur in my head. But the next part I remember was this. She had been in and out of a mental hospital. Yes, this once sweet, laughter-filled girl was now so depressive, reclusive, sad, depressed and dark. I remember she was staying with our youth pastor on a kind of watch. She was being monitored 24/7 for her safety. But we were at a youth group service and at the end she ran out. I ran out after her. She ran to the nearby park and I was sprinting not too far behind. My heart was pounding. I was already having restless nights, wondering day by day if my friend was alive in those brutal, waking hours.
She had a razor hidden in her phone case. Out at the park was a field and a bridge at the far end of the park. She was going to kill herself with the razor and with her last strenghts, she was going to hurl herself over the edge of the bridge to die in the ditch below. At this point, I was holding her. I physically was coming between her and her phone with the razor. She told me her plan. I had tears drenching my cheek and my chin. Breathing deep breaths, I tried talking and reasoning with her. She resisted all of my words of love and reminders of her worth. She wanted to kill herself, even after everything I could do to try to convince her otherwise...
Help was running towards us. The youth pastor was running over. She wanted to kill herself before he could get there. Two of the other adult leaders were coming too. They stayed back to pray and intercede while we talked to her. She still struggled with all of her might to get her razor from me. The thing was, she had so little fight for life left. The pastor took over and sat with her. She just sat there and cried. It was raw and vulnerable and each moment was weighted with heavy, intentional, precious breaths.
I left with the other youth leaders. We prayed the whole way and I had to go, but our pastor and his wife stayed behind.
Fast forward to today. This girl is still alive. Praise God. She still struggles. She has been in and out of mental hospitals and in therapy. But she is in a much better place. She doesn't need to be monitored and has begun to get her joy and laughter back. Today, she is no longer suicidal, but still wrestles with her self worth.
Fast forward to today again. I am personally reading this chapter on suicide. This friend was one of a several young people I was close to that were suicidal. Luckily, I never actually lost someone to suicide. However, I never grieved these experiences because I thought I didn't have a reason to. If they were still alive, what reason would I have to grieve, right?
Turns out, I was trying so hard to be strong that I never took moments to allow myself sadness. I never let myself share just how hard this was for me to hold back my friend from killing herself on multiple occasions. Even today, I default to repressing the constant, back-burner worry that she might just do it and I won't even be there to stop her...
Yesterday, I realized something. I, like my friend have tried to travel a road alone. The road I have been trying to endure on my own is one that calls me to be strong and move on and to bear all of the old pains by myself. Somehow, I have convinced myself that my pains are too much and that I should never share them, lest someone else get burdened by something that solely hurt me. That loneliness of bearing such bitter pain has weighted me down. Our psychology class met. Afterward, I stayed back in class and my professor walked over and sat before me. She looked me in the eyes and asked if I were okay.
I ended up talking to her. And then sharing with one of my closest friends. I shared my fears with them both. I showed them how the pain had hurt me through the words of my story.
I know I need to process this. But truly, I don't know how.
I do know that this doesn't have to be carried on a lonely road that confines my emotion and struggle to my path alone. But as I bring this before the Lord, I feel as though he has been speaking and calling me. He has been saying in that still, small voice to me that He wants to feel those hurts with me. He wants to hold me. He wants to be near me as I process and unravel the parts of my past that have me all wound up in a tizzy. He wants me to breathe and enjoy today... and to be grateful for everyone I do have in my life today.
A couple of lessons I am remembering as I walk through these rows of memories with Jesus are that I need to grieve hard times. Loss of innocence. Scary, life-threatening situations. Even if nothing tragic actually happens and no casualties occur, there may be a need to grieve and that is okay. The Bible says there is a time to grieve. With that, there is also a time to rejoice and be grateful and to move on. But today I will allow myself grace and space to grieve that difficult time.
Today, I will also allow Christ into that part of my past. I will allow myself to feel those hurts, and I will allow Him to feel them with me too. I will also allow a really close friend to hear my heart. I will let her in and pray with her and cry with her. I will let her arms around me be like the arms of God wrapping around me because I believe God sometimes uses others to comfort us as an extension of His provision and care.
In the grand scheme of things, I really do have to come back to humility + the foot of the cross.
I have to humble myself because God is gracious, God is good, and God still has work to do in me even in areas I had believed were sufficiently dealt with. It takes humility to be an active work in progress. I even have to kill my pride a bit and admit that in my own strength I did not deal adequately with this issue.
I need the foot of the cross because I need a place to go when I cannot carry the burdens of my past (or my present), and because I need a Savior. I need someone to hold me together emotionally... especially when it feels like the past that was so ingrained in my being is being ripped out of me so that something new and better and re-purposed can fill me instead.
Friends, thank you. Thank you for being a part of this grieving process with me by reading this post. Thank you for your prayers and support and maybe even for your tears. This has been a tough topic for me to write on, but somehow having this written and shared reminds me that I am not alone, and that God is good, and He is gracious to give us life, and He is near to us enough that He wants to hold us through it all.
XOXO,
Melissa
It was about death, depression... and suicide.
This is a tough topic as it is... but I had an extra hard time while writing my responses to the chapter for this class. You see, I have had several people close to me that make this subject hit close to home.
A few years ago, I was in youth group at my home church back in California. I had been friends with a young girl who came from a rough home. Take a deep breath with me as I go back for a moment.
Her dad was abusive. He raped her many times. She had so much of her value and self worth stripped away from her since she was a young girl. While I remember her as a friend who could laugh so hard tears rolled down our faces and we held our tummies because they ached with laughter, I also remember looking into the eyes of a girl who was so hurt and unsure and afraid. Eventually, she grew blossomed beautifully. But she couldn't see that. She only saw her brokenness, her incompetence, her past. This led to her self harming herself. Bulimia, cutting, and eventually, suicidal behaviors were the tumble downhill that she tried so hard to travel alone.
My friend was a bit younger than I was. So I took upon myself a bigger sister kind of a role. I reported to our choir teacher when we were on a ministry trip. She was trying to self harm and was contemplating suicide. She demanded that I not tell a soul, but I knew she needed help.
Truthfully, I took a moment to weigh our friendship's trust verses her well being. I wasn't even sure this lady who I would tell would be able to do anything. What if my friend never trusted me again? And what if me going for outside help was futile?
Well, we were able to get her some help and some counseling. Her high school became a support through the counseling services and she eventually thanked me.
But then she spiraled again.
The self harm came up. Her arms and legs and thighs and stomach were patterned with her cutting like grained wood. but she insisted she didn't do it.
Again, she became suicidal.
The next part of the story becomes a blur in my head. But the next part I remember was this. She had been in and out of a mental hospital. Yes, this once sweet, laughter-filled girl was now so depressive, reclusive, sad, depressed and dark. I remember she was staying with our youth pastor on a kind of watch. She was being monitored 24/7 for her safety. But we were at a youth group service and at the end she ran out. I ran out after her. She ran to the nearby park and I was sprinting not too far behind. My heart was pounding. I was already having restless nights, wondering day by day if my friend was alive in those brutal, waking hours.
She had a razor hidden in her phone case. Out at the park was a field and a bridge at the far end of the park. She was going to kill herself with the razor and with her last strenghts, she was going to hurl herself over the edge of the bridge to die in the ditch below. At this point, I was holding her. I physically was coming between her and her phone with the razor. She told me her plan. I had tears drenching my cheek and my chin. Breathing deep breaths, I tried talking and reasoning with her. She resisted all of my words of love and reminders of her worth. She wanted to kill herself, even after everything I could do to try to convince her otherwise...
Help was running towards us. The youth pastor was running over. She wanted to kill herself before he could get there. Two of the other adult leaders were coming too. They stayed back to pray and intercede while we talked to her. She still struggled with all of her might to get her razor from me. The thing was, she had so little fight for life left. The pastor took over and sat with her. She just sat there and cried. It was raw and vulnerable and each moment was weighted with heavy, intentional, precious breaths.
I left with the other youth leaders. We prayed the whole way and I had to go, but our pastor and his wife stayed behind.
Fast forward to today. This girl is still alive. Praise God. She still struggles. She has been in and out of mental hospitals and in therapy. But she is in a much better place. She doesn't need to be monitored and has begun to get her joy and laughter back. Today, she is no longer suicidal, but still wrestles with her self worth.
Fast forward to today again. I am personally reading this chapter on suicide. This friend was one of a several young people I was close to that were suicidal. Luckily, I never actually lost someone to suicide. However, I never grieved these experiences because I thought I didn't have a reason to. If they were still alive, what reason would I have to grieve, right?
Turns out, I was trying so hard to be strong that I never took moments to allow myself sadness. I never let myself share just how hard this was for me to hold back my friend from killing herself on multiple occasions. Even today, I default to repressing the constant, back-burner worry that she might just do it and I won't even be there to stop her...
Yesterday, I realized something. I, like my friend have tried to travel a road alone. The road I have been trying to endure on my own is one that calls me to be strong and move on and to bear all of the old pains by myself. Somehow, I have convinced myself that my pains are too much and that I should never share them, lest someone else get burdened by something that solely hurt me. That loneliness of bearing such bitter pain has weighted me down. Our psychology class met. Afterward, I stayed back in class and my professor walked over and sat before me. She looked me in the eyes and asked if I were okay.
I ended up talking to her. And then sharing with one of my closest friends. I shared my fears with them both. I showed them how the pain had hurt me through the words of my story.
I know I need to process this. But truly, I don't know how.
I do know that this doesn't have to be carried on a lonely road that confines my emotion and struggle to my path alone. But as I bring this before the Lord, I feel as though he has been speaking and calling me. He has been saying in that still, small voice to me that He wants to feel those hurts with me. He wants to hold me. He wants to be near me as I process and unravel the parts of my past that have me all wound up in a tizzy. He wants me to breathe and enjoy today... and to be grateful for everyone I do have in my life today.
A couple of lessons I am remembering as I walk through these rows of memories with Jesus are that I need to grieve hard times. Loss of innocence. Scary, life-threatening situations. Even if nothing tragic actually happens and no casualties occur, there may be a need to grieve and that is okay. The Bible says there is a time to grieve. With that, there is also a time to rejoice and be grateful and to move on. But today I will allow myself grace and space to grieve that difficult time.
Today, I will also allow Christ into that part of my past. I will allow myself to feel those hurts, and I will allow Him to feel them with me too. I will also allow a really close friend to hear my heart. I will let her in and pray with her and cry with her. I will let her arms around me be like the arms of God wrapping around me because I believe God sometimes uses others to comfort us as an extension of His provision and care.
In the grand scheme of things, I really do have to come back to humility + the foot of the cross.
I have to humble myself because God is gracious, God is good, and God still has work to do in me even in areas I had believed were sufficiently dealt with. It takes humility to be an active work in progress. I even have to kill my pride a bit and admit that in my own strength I did not deal adequately with this issue.
I need the foot of the cross because I need a place to go when I cannot carry the burdens of my past (or my present), and because I need a Savior. I need someone to hold me together emotionally... especially when it feels like the past that was so ingrained in my being is being ripped out of me so that something new and better and re-purposed can fill me instead.
Friends, thank you. Thank you for being a part of this grieving process with me by reading this post. Thank you for your prayers and support and maybe even for your tears. This has been a tough topic for me to write on, but somehow having this written and shared reminds me that I am not alone, and that God is good, and He is gracious to give us life, and He is near to us enough that He wants to hold us through it all.
XOXO,
Melissa
I am praying for you Melissa. I will always be here for you to listen, pray , and hug you whenever you need me to. Sometimes I know and especially with your personality and your loving and caring heart that God gave you, it is so hard for you to try to stop and work the things in your heart, because you care so much for others. Sometimes I feel the same way, that I need to let myself take care of the things on my heart but I end up putting myself aside and meet the needs of others. You can do this because of Jesus but because of the wonderful young lady that you are it will take time for you to put your hearts needs before others. God says he will never give us anything we can't handle and you are a true testament to that. From the 1st day I met you and the more we got to know each and shared stories, prayers, and hugs I know you have endured more than any young woman your age could ever imagine. But we serve an amazing God and he knows that some of the heartaches, family illness or issues, life experiences you have been through and he knew you were mature enough, strong enough, and had the love and faith in Him you would prevail. Your an amazing young woman and a joy to know and love. Reading your story and you telling me to pray for you has brought back memories for me as well. Unlike you I have actually been a part of suicide. One of my close friends committed suicide when she was 16 years old and we had just gotten off work together and headed out and she went behind our work and walked right in front of a train. I was 16 not a Christian and I felt so guilty and sad. I didn't even notice when we worked a full 8 hour Saturday shift together that she had this planned. She was so happy that day and we laughed and she hugged me a lot. I didn't have the lord in my life to turn and say why God, what do I do, what could I have done? I cried so much and wondered maybe I should have asked her to spend the night that night or something and she would not have killed herself. I carried a lot of guilt and really made a change and always asked my friends are you ok until I drove them nuts. After I was saved and walked with the Lord and attended church I knew God wanted me to let him have all those feelings and as hard as it was I did. I lost 2 guys I dated in high school because of choices they made with drink and driving and steroids to make muscle which stopped his heart. These were times when I was a teenager that I needed God the most but I didn't even know him. Take a step back Melissa and know that God is with you and you have a great support staff and I will always be here for you my friend. You are an amazing woman, daughter, sister, friend , and child of God. Love you. I am praying but call me if you need me.
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