This is a play-by-play after my leap off of Webb Hill in St. George, Utah. It’s a compilation of posts by my mother and boyfriend on social media from the day after my suicide attempt until my first week home from the hospital 3 months later.
Loved ones suffer alongside the survivors of trauma and abuse and in some ways can be co-victims. Often, parents are innocent bystanders who feel powerless to help or even understand their struggling child.
My summary does not tell the whole story, but it tells a part of the story the medical community is not equipped to explain.
http://www.facebook.com/509944830/posts/10158615791249831/ I’m Nicole’s boyfriend. This is my Facebook Post from last night.
Each step can be messy, but this outline helps me recognize that messiness can actually be evidence of healing.
Faith is feeling abandoned, but reaching up anyway.
For survivors, hope must be rediscovered, empowerment must be relearned, self-worth replanted, and the Light reached for against a current of despair.
Where was He!? How could He let that happen to me!? My logical conclusion—confirmed by terrible, real-life experience—was that I’m not worth His attention, that He doesn’t actually care about me, or that He does not exist. But I knew He was there, and this knowing rounded out my feelings of bitterness, gloom, and abandonment.
Survivors may struggle to accept and find meaning in a more stable, peaceful life.
When the dark side arranges the unimaginable against the most innocent, the mind wipe and compartmentalization of the event become a harsh but necessary blessing.