The Girl Without A Face

I believe in a higher power and I have my reasons for this. I didn’t feel it in a church. Or with friends. About 15 months ago I was at the lowest I’d ever been. I was trying everything to pull myself out of the darkness. I wasn’t even doing it for myself, I was doing it for my son. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had the strength to find my way out. But even my love for him at this time was becoming not enough, and I would start to have conversations in my mind. Bargaining with God. That I’d be able to watch over him on the other side. And for weeks it went on like this, I would get through my work day, keep my agony silent. The only peace I would find would be when I slept, I would look forward to closing my eyes. Turn on healing music.

I tried to join group therapy, I searched online for writing groups. I journaled every day. Went for mental health walks. But as I’ve said before, I was medicated incorrectly, and unfortunately for me I couldn’t self-care my way out of the suicidal ideation.

One Saturday I forced myself out of bed, to go for a drive. Clear my head. I had a destination in mind, at the time I was smoking. Cheap cartons at the reservation seemed like the perfect outing. And to give a picture of where I was mentally I couldn’t even listen to music, and I love music. All sorts – from The Doors to Kendrick Lamar. But at this point I could only listen to a cover of Everybody Hurts. Trust me I know how pathetic that sounds.

The whole drive I had thoughts of pulling my car into oncoming traffic. And I thought, when I get home I’ll allow myself to write a note. I started imagining what the letter would say to my son. It was the only thing that comforted me on my way back home.

I got inside and went straight upstairs. I laid in my bed, stared at the ceiling. I had been absolutely alone for weeks at this point, just my son and me. Not one person had reached out to see how I was doing. No family. No friends. It felt like if I was gone it would be less of a burden. So instead of speaking inside my head I said out loud, “God, if you exist you better throw me a bone. Because I’m done”.

Can you believe I was such a bitch to God? Anyways, after my conversation I mustered up the strength to go grocery shopping. At this point I could not shop alone, and my angel of a child would go with me with no complaining.

And I bought myself a treat while I was there that night. Then I got home to look at my empty phone, except I saw messages this time. A friend came over the next day, someone I hadn’t seen in months. That week several more people reached out to me. I almost became overwhelmed. It was seemingly out of nowhere, nothing said or done to prompt these interactions. Just me alone in room desperately pleading for God to take action.