This last year has been the hardest year of my entire life.
By: I Am More Than You See
Tags: Loss, Life Is Short, Life Changing Moment, Finding Your Purpose, Suicide

This last year has been the hardest year of my entire life. In all my 43 years on this earth, I never knew such pain and devastation actually existed in the form of literal soul taking. Actually leaving me to feel as if I am just an empty vessel. It was the first time I ever entertained the idea of suicide. I was actually fixated on it for a couple of weeks. Yet, here I am to recount the events that took place back to back, all at once, the different heartbreaking situations that all came together like the perfect storm to hit me at the same time. Almost the same day. Only one or two days between tragedy’s, but it was all running together at that point. Looking back I do not know how I ever found the strength to get up off my bedroom floor.

My partner and the father of my younger children lived with me with his 3 teenage children. We were a family. Content, if not happy. He had been spending a lot of time at the property he owned behind his mother's house. We were planning on making that our home. After some cleaning and work. Which is what I thought he was doing. When I would go by to check on him or offer help I could tell things had been done. He was coming home less and less staying overnight there until he wasn’t really coming home at all unless he needed to grab a tool or something. In which case he would come in, get it, say nothing, and leave. I had no idea what was coming. NONE. When I get the phone call from mutual friends of ours told me that he had been over the night before and that he had brought his girlfriend Jennifer with him.

WTF? Are you even talking about right now? I was shocked. I felt disrespected that he took her to our friends. I was told she drove his truck around. It hurt. It was devastating. It was his choice though. Not mine. I was home doing the things I did every day. Not out chasing some guy to entertain me. So of no fault of mine. Our family has split apart. He moved out, and his kids moved back to his mom’s.

The next thing I can remember is walking to my front door with him behind me. He said not one word to me as he turned his back and went to his truck. I walked into a very quiet, empty house. Made it all the way to my room before I screamed and fell to the ground. I had lost my purpose to live that day. The only reason I was on this earth, to begin with, was taken. My children. I think I laid there on the floor for almost two days. I remember thinking a lot that I had no reason to live. Without my children I was nothing. Who was I? What was I to do? Die. That is the only thing that made sense to me. I had lost their father a day or so before that, his children, now mine. It was just me in this house alone. No family to speak of who cared. No ex’s with enough balls to come to check on me, or he was too busy with playing house with his current past time to care. I would lay awake at night thinking of ways to leave this world. I had never felt so hopeless, so torn up, in all of my life. I just wanted someone to point me to my grave. I never saw any of this coming. I would forget to catch my breath. I would do nothing for hours. I wouldn’t talk to anybody. I didn’t answer my door or my phone but there was never anyone on the other side of either of them either. From one day to the next my whole life changed. Everything safe, stable, comfortable, my freaking life. Was ripped away from me leaving me alone and empty. Lost. An abundance of sadness that felt like it was going to swallow me at any time. There had never been a time in all my years that I felt all hope was gone. When I had no idea what to do. When the only answer I had was to kill myself in the worst way and be sure to leave a note to him so he knew that this was his fault.

Well, that is not the kind of person I am. I am also too much of a coward to commit suicide, but I did feel the pain that drives others to it. That is an inner struggle I wish on nobody. I came to terms with being scared. Scared of myself, and my own feelings. I was going through a shit storm. So I allowed myself to break down, to act crazy, to fall apart. In public, wherever. As the days went by as bad as some of them were, not all of them were. If I stopped thinking about my sadness and my tragedy long enough I found I was able to navigate through the days a little bit. The more I accomplished that, the stronger I would feel. Then I started writing again. Helping other people and not once mentioning my situation as I did. I started to feel important again. Needed. Then I had to pay attention to my own advice I was handing out. Like our tough times don’t kill us. They shape us and mold us and change our lives. The manner, we change and our life changes is up to us. You are allowed to experience horrible things and pick yourself up, put back together what you can, and continue. You can still have goals. You can even smile and lift your face to the sunshine. The courage to choose our path and how we will handle ourselves and our future in the face of adversity builds character. We have to face what we are dealt and take the opportunity to find our new path. Our new skills, and abilities and keep building on that.

Nothing works out as we plan it to. Life is unpredictable and some experience more than their fair share of pain. I do not know why I am one of the chosen ones, but I have to embrace it and not let it prevent me from pursuing my goal to be a positive person and a better version of who I was the day before. We have to take responsibility for what is happening in our lives, and change it because our time here is short and every moment counts. You can stay in the midst of the shit storm. Or you can make your story the story that changed your life.