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

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Story 35

Recovering from sexual abuse and things were really black as I was not winning over the flashbacks nor could I figure out a way to stop blaming myself. On Dec 31st, I decided to end my life and had everything ready. My therapist gave me her home number to use over the holidays. I had never called her before at home and I had been her client for 6 months, every 2 weeks I would see her. I had made a promise to her that I would call her before I took the pills as long as she agreed not to call the police to stop me if I called. On Dec 31st around 11pm, she took my call, which I didn't think she would, and the mere fact that she cared about me and said she would miss my presence, was enough for me to hang in there until I could see her the following week. Her voice was calm, she was not angry or frustrated that I called. I had many urges to die still after Dec 31st that year but never came close to acting on them. It was realizing that someone really cared about me knowing how bad I was in the past that stuck with me. In that time of crisis, she never talked down to me, kept her promises, didn't panic, didn't give up, and she kept believing in me. I guess I essentially borrowed the hope that she had for me until I found hope for myself. I finished therapy about 6 months later.

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