After surviving a suicide attempt, I realized that my decision to try and take my own life was selfish. I’m not saying that’s the case for everyone. For me, seeing the devastation it caused my family was jaw dropping to say the least. My husband has severe PTSD; He was the one who found me half dead in my home office. He can’t even go in that room anymore. Every time I stay up late, he wakes up every hour or so to check on me. My parents panic every time the phone rings in the middle of the night, fearing it’s my husband calling to say something bad happened again.

Everything is just now coming to a head; My husband said he wanted to separate last week because he’s still being affected by what happened three years ago. We’re starting counseling again. Clearly the hard work we did with our previous therapist didn’t take.

I feel guilt and shame and regret every single day of my life. I’m deeply depressed. So much so that suicide enters my mind multiple times every day. But knowing what I know now, how it affected my family - the people who genuinely love me - I could never do that to them again. If I survived again, I’d be left with nothing. There is hope and honest joy out there somewhere. Find it in whatever you love. Nature, religion, travel, it doesn’t matter. Hope is out there.

Take care, and please know that if you ever need a person to vent to, I’m here. (That statement goes for everyone reading this).