Suicidal

In the months thick with high rates of loneliness, this one word is most fitting. It brings about three main reactions. Maybe you read the title and felt worried or concerned. Maybe you read the title and ignored it, thinking "just another person going through."

... or maybe you read it and felt a connection, slightly wanting to see if you and I felt similar in some suicidal ways... maybe even me hinting at some way of escape from the pain. Or just maybe just realizing you aren't by yourself, hoping a deceptively sinking boat with two people is better than one.

You're NOT alone. Love's with you. You can be rescued. And that's the solution.

If somebody would've told me this in middle school, high school and college, I would've thought, "But it's not that simple. You don't know my story- what I've been through and what I'm going through." Now having stepped into a dimension of love like no man can give- the love of Jesus Christ- I can honestly say... it is that simple.

I've been eyeing two particular organizations for some months now, the latter within the past month: Mercy Ministries and To Write Love on Her Arms. Yesterday, I was confronted with two things- my testimony and why I'm so passionate about these two organizations. The connection was simple: my testimony is similar to those ministered to through these organizations... and my silent voice must now be heard.

"Her? She's... average."

These three words spoken in middle school, combined with a want to please my parents, family and community, became the catalyst for a 10-year battle with anorexia and bulimia; depression and suicide. Ten years of my life were spent riding an emotional roller coaster with my hands on the controls of my life. Overwhelmed, emotionally disturbed, severely self-conscious, writer of darkened words of poetry, severely ashamed, unwanted by self... yet still wanting to control my own life, wearing the "all-around good kid" mask.

The eating disorders were my first friends, providing me with the solution to the physical controls. Not eating for days, shuffling food around with family, throwing food away at school, binging on food in dark hours of the night or morning when no one was looking, hair loss, inconsistent weight patterns, ER visits to find "nothing wrong." Depression had its door and walked in to greet me as I slept more, secluded myself more, wrote more, talked less, burned with angry fire on the inside more than ever. They say two is a crowd, but suicide just had to get the party started right. Not a lover of pain but wanting ANYthing to stop it on the inside, I went for the pills. The first time, God pushed my stomach around 1am full of 3 different cough syrups and 30-35 pills from the pantry. None of the pills had been digested over the previous 5 hours, each remaining fully formed. As I watched my mother clean it from my spread, I wondered if she knew... The second time, I just took the 30-35 pills only to catch an "overdose" the next morning, wondering why it didn't work again and I was still alive and not dead. The third time, I wanted something quick to kill the pain in my chest- a knife but oh... only a little scar would be had as my shaken hand dropped and my broken body fell over with tears up the stairs. Suicide letters? I lost count... from Raleigh to Greensboro. I was recklessly abandoned, ending up in an abusive relationship that had my emotions spinning in a downward spiral end. This wasn't just an issue... this was a lifestyle.

But I was rescued, and now? I AM alive.

Some may have never even guessed all of this was going on while being a member of the church praise team, active member and leader in the youth group, a Duke Divinity high school student, on the honor roll, study body government member, top 10% of my class, president of Future Teachers of America, a recipient of almost $30,000 in scholarships and grants and so much more. The mask was there, embedded in more than just my skin. But something caught me, loved me and broke the lies and death warrant on my life.

Jesus Christ... THE Love.

My thoughts that screamed on the inside were, "There's no way out of this; it's too dark. There's no where else to go. I want to find a solution to take this pain away, but I don't know how to move... to get out of this. I can't do this. Help me!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!" The one who heard me was the one who made me and was interceding for me and setting me up to have a love encounter with Him... it was Jesus. A love so unconditional... I couldn't find a wrong motive in it. It never failed. It kept me.

It rescued ME... and WILL rescue YOU.

In encountering Jesus' love in the past two years, it hasn't been instant. But I know above all things, it's been so much different because I AM alive; He rescued me. The life raft is here right in front of you... the life jacket of Christ's Love ready to embrace you. All you have to do is just reach out for it. I don't care who you are, what you've been through, where you've come from... please, reach for it and hold on. I strongly encourage you at this moment to email me if you are ready to reach out: salennon1@bellsouth.net. Or PLEASE call 1-800-SUICIDE. As To Write Love on Her Arms states:

"Wake up. You're Alive. We're on your side."

YOU... ARE... RESCUED.