There was never a time in my life that I remember being without depression. I just didn’t know it at the time.
I discovered I was clinically depressed in 2010, but I didn’t do anything about it because I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. So I kept going on with my life.
I’m going to fast forward to 2014, because I want to get right to the point.
2014 was the worst year of my life.
The jobs were horrible, one of which I could have went to jail for if I hadn’t told the truth to my boss. It’s a very complicated situation, but just know it actually wasn’t my fault.
The next two jobs lasted two days each. I was severely depressed. I tried to cut myself on my wrists and even my throat multiple times, but for some reason, I was too scared. I wanted my life to end in those moments, but I would end up stopping right after the momentum came to me.
On June 21, 2014, I was seconds away from killing myself. I had the gun to my head, and my finger on the trigger. I was ready to pull the trigger, and I was starting to do it.
I screamed out for God to help me. Whatever He had to do; a bolt of lightning hit me, the ground beneath me start to sink, one of my family members show up, make the gun stop working… Whatever He had to do.
He made me start bawling. I was alone in the woods, and He knew no one would hear me, but He made me start bawling. I fell to the ground, dropped the gun, and called my mother.
The next day, my mother brought me to the emergency room. They locked us in a room, and that night at midnight, I was checked in to a mental hospital.
I was terrified.
The next morning, I got up, got dressed, and went into the area where we would all meet up – the day room. As I walked in, shaking, scared out of my mind, a nice older lady walked up to me, hugged me, told me everything would be okay, and said, “Welcome home for the next few days. We’re a family here.”
I’ll never forget that.
The days went by, and I would talk to the techs, nurses, and doctors about how I was doing every day. We would have group sessions, watch Family Feud together, laugh together, cry together, even pray together.
I remember one day, I was talking to another one of the women in the day room about how long we had been battling our illnesses. At the end of the conversation, she told me, “Ali, don’t let it beat you.”
Five days after checking in, I was able to check out. I didn’t go home immediately though; they walked me straight over to the outpatient program.
Of course, I was terrified. But I made friends in there that I’ll be friends with for the rest of my life.
Now two years after I started my recovery, I’m still alive. I haven’t been perfect, I have tried to kill myself multiple times, but it seems to always fail.
When I finally realized that this is my reality, it hit me like a brick wall. My life is not the way I want it to be, and lots of people don’t have faith in me. But the people that DO have faith in me are the ones I listen to.
I’ve doubted God’s existence multiple times, but He always comes through.
He always comes through.