My parents divorced when I was about three years old. I was raised by a single mother. Growing up, I had bouts with depression, suicidal ideations, and drank a lot of alcohol until I blacked out. I didn’t have a career mindset. I went to multiple colleges. I’ve had about 13 different kinds of jobs. Married twice and divorced twice. I didn’t appreciate my life and cared little about it. The sadness was deep. Life did not have too much meaning for me. I was just surviving, trying to taste life a little bit here and there, and living off of hope and distractions. I just put on that mask and continued on. Along the way, I did some volunteer work and one of them was at the Suicide Prevention Center. I was answering the phones and took numerous calls. Around the same time, my mother was having suicidal thoughts. Keep in mind, there was no suicidal history in our family. She would write down terrible things about harming herself and voice her concerns. I immediately seeked help and took her to the hospital where she was admitted into a special unit and was being looked after 24/7 with different medications being administered in a timely manner. After we got the okay from the doctor to take her home, my uncle and brother watched over her. We locked up the knives and anything else that could be used to self harm. A few days later, my mother couldn’t take it anymore. I got to her and took her to another hospital. I visited just about every day after work. This time it was about two weeks when we got the release. Mom went back home. I just hit my one year mark at the Suicide Prevention Center. Then I found out my mother had committed suicide. After going through the grieving process and trying to get myself together somewhat, I see life in a different way. I really appreciate the life I have now with the utmost gratitude. And I will continue to go forward to help other souls realize that their precious life is worth living.
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