For months, my counselor and I worked toward dealing with my emotions instead of shoving them down into the acid that sat in my belly along with all the bad memories. At the bottom of all the junk in my soul, I found grace, resolve, understanding, and forgiveness — for my mom, for my ex-husband, but most of all, for me.
All through middle school, I thought, I’ll stop watching porn when I get in high school. I was convinced that older guys didn’t need to watch it.
When I made it to high school, my plan became to no longer watch pornography once I found a serious girlfriend. In reality, I dated the same girl all through high school and that’s when porn became solidified as my escape. I went to porn when I was lonesome or frustrated with her. Even though I was a star student and a role model in my youth group, this secret addiction was my constant companion.
Often, I get asked what the one thing is that saved my life, following my suicide attempt. It’s laughable to think there’s some magic pill, but I understand people are looking for something, anything to give them the hope that things will get better. What saved me? Jesus. Now before you close this page, thinking […]
I am grateful for my mental illness, personal growth, and improvement in my family since I faced my illness, and became more open and honest about who I am.
To read the “7 Surprising Gifts of My Mental Illness” on Good Men Project, just click here.
Now that the story of my suicide attempt is becoming more public, people are asking about my recovery. The most recent question I received is, “What is the one thing that made you want to start living again.” Since everyone has a different recovery story and I am not a professional, here are seven things that did not make me want to start living again.
“Where did this dog come from? Is she coming home with us? Can she sit in my lap? What’s her name?” I adjusted the rearview mirror, not wanting to miss a single detail of his excitement. “Yea buddy, she’s your new dog. Merry Christmas.” For the moment, I was his hero.
But that wasn’t always the case.
I experienced my own personal Sodom and Gomorrah when I was three. I’ve learned a lot in the thirty years since then. One of the biggest lessons is that saving a life requires more than just tidying up. A friend of mine, another victim of abuse, said something to me recently that changed my life forever.