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Worldwide, more people die by suicide than homicide and war.

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Story 165

I grew up in a large family. My father was strict but loving. My mother was very ill. It was a difficult childhood, to be sure, but my father always tried his best and it is to him I attribute any successes my siblings and I may have.

I cannot remember a time when I did not lie in bed and weep. Praying for death. Emotionally hurt and broken since I can remember.

As a very young child of about 3 or 4 I had been raped by a family 'friend'. I never told.
Certainly from outward appearances no-one would have guessed this. I was beautiful and popular in my youth.

I struggled with relationships and had a few good ones amid the bad. Once, in between jobs (I was renting a room) I decided it wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Who would care if I just ended?” I thought. I serve no purpose in life at all. “I am a waste of air and space,” I speculated.

I took a bottle of aspirin that night. Waited for the pain of my life to be lifted.

I panicked and tried to induce vomiting and I couldn’t ..I decided it was a sign.

I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamt of a wicked afterlife. I heard a voice calling me back.
I don’t know who that could’ve been but I awoke late in the morning. Aching all over, I crawled to the phone and called myself in “sick" to work.

I knew I must have some kind of purpose to have survived. I never told anyone.

It is years later. I am married and have a child (I often think she was the sole reason that I lived that night).  We have a nice little home and a quiet life. None of this would be possible if I had "taken my life" when I was still so young. Although I had tried it, it was not 'meant to be'. So now I embrace life. Yes, sometimes it’s difficult. It’s not always what you signed up for, but it is good if you give it a chance.
The only thing I gained by my close experience with death was an empathy for those I see struggling around me. I am always an ear and I hope in some small way a chance to find a way back.

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