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.
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.
It may require new training to feel comfortable and at home with a quiet, peaceful mind.
Discerning between Light and dark voices makes the difference between happiness and misery. The fruit of the Spirit of God brings joy and progress, but the fruit of darkness is misery and deterioration.
Three types of voices compete for our thoughts: promptings from the Light, confusion and deception from the opposition, and our own voice. Promptings from the Light gently lead us toward greater freedom, peace, and joy.
DID isolates each part of the victim that’s been hurt. These parts can distrust and even hate one another. They have different priorities and memories, and it is all arranged to produce stark, unsettled isolation.