Let me start this post by saying, I am not suicidal; I have never been suicidal. I do, however, know what is feels like to want to die. Which is entirely different.

Holding my child after she was gone . . . I wanted to go, too . . . to have a nurse pump me full of morphine and just drift away with her. Seeing her in a casket . . . I wanted to be in it with her, holding her forever. Going to her grave . . . I’ve wanted to be in Heaven with her . . . to just die right there and dissolve into the ground.

I get it. 

Trust me, I get what it’s like to not know how to keep living your life and to just want it all to be over.

The brokenness of this world and the people in it. I get what it feels like to be on your couch for days on end and even the smallest tasks like answering your phone or getting food feel like exhausting work.

Death. Pain. Illness. Grief. Loss. Suffering. Unfairness. Evil. Greed. Hate. Rage.

If you let them, they’ll all take over your brain and your heart. You want it to end and to be somewhere those things don’t exist.

I’ve seen it manifest in my personal life through family. A great aunt who lost a daughter at 2 weeks old and couldn’t recover from it so she decided to end it. A great uncle who couldn’t cope with all the brokenness and strain this world offered so he left it all behind. A kind-hearted man who couldn’t face more chemo for the cancer eating his body away so he took it into his own hands. All with their own struggles that I can’t and won’t judge; they did what they did and it’s between them and the Lord.

Even closer I’ve walked with a sister who has struggled with mental health for most of her life and who constantly is aware of her depression and suicidal tendencies. Her hormones tell her she’s crazy and inadequate. Her brain and memory fail her constantly. She feels things in a big way and they overtake her often.

But she keeps swimming. 

We all keep swimming. 

We long to be away from this world where all the bad seems to rule. Leaving it on our own terms seems to be so much easier.

You see, for me, that’s not the answer, friends. 

For me, its medication that helps slow things down. It’s counseling to express my grief and pain in a safe space with someone I trust who will tell me hard things but who also will protect me if she sees me going down a destructive path. It’s a marriage where we are honest with each other about how we feel and what we need . . . even when it’s hard. It’s exercise and yoga to get my blood pumping and productivity flowing. It’s outlets like doodling, writing, reading, and whatever feels fun instead of oppressive. It’s choosing to work in an environment that is flexible even if it’s less money because it’s good for me right now. It’s a Bible study group that I can be open with on good and bad days. It’s a Life Group that constantly lifts us, loves us, and supports us. It’s a church family that truly is family. It’s friendships that are honest and real. It’s prayer—lots and lots of prayer—for help and grace and wisdom.

Does my approach to my personal grief and mental health apply to everyone? Does it take away my pain of losing my daughter? Is it the best answer? Am I the greatest of all? 

Absolutely not.

I’m simply saying that if you’re in that place where it feels like ending your life is your only option . . . it doesn’t have to be.

You have people who love you.

You have a BIG GOD that loves you in BIG WAYS if you’d open yourself to Him.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255

**Disclaimer: these are my opinions only and my personal experiences and beliefs. I would never presume to judge others for how they deal with the pain in their lives. We all live uniquely on this planet the best way we can. And those who have felt no other way out than suicide, that decision was a result of brokenness and mental illness and it’s between them and God. My prayer is that the Lord would fill hearts that see a need to end their lives and that He would change things for them and show them ending it isn’t the only option And that He’ll come soon and heal us all!

Originally published on Sophie The Brave

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Shelby Skiles

Shelby Skiles is a wife, teacher, and mom to her two-year-old angel, Sophie. Sophie passed away in January 2018 from Lymphoma. Shelby chronicled Sophie’s entire battle through her blog Sophie The Brave and hopes that transparently sharing her journey through, motherhood, cancer, and now grief will inspire others to look passed their circumstances and see that God is bigger than all of it. She’s deeply committed to honoring Sophie’s memory by sharing her story and I spring others to ‘Do More’ and make a difference.