When all you do is beat yourself up, every damn day for months, eventually you become so weak that you buckle under the weight and pressure of not being good enough.
I was depressed. Really fucking depressed.
[Trigger Warning: Suicide]
At school I was funny and did my best to keep a happy face, but at home I struggled, remained quiet, and distant.
I tried to take my own life on multiple occasions. From attempting to overdose on pills to holding the cold barrel of a loaded gun to my head. I'd experienced one of the darkest places of the human mind.
With shaking hands, I set the gun down when I began considering other possibilities of my future.
What would I be missing out on if I ended it all?
Would the feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness be how I'd feel forever?
Was a better life possible?
I had never asked these questions before. They were enough to stop me from pulling the trigger and instead opened my mind to possibilities and a tiny ass drop of hope.
That was the last time I'd attempt to end my life.
My depression still hung heavy though. The negative thoughts and shitty self-talk continued. I still lived each day feeling numb inside.
Until one day...
My mom and I were on our weekly grocery store run to stock up on food for my very hungry teenage brothers.
While I was riding passenger in the front seat of our family's large, boat-like sedan, my mom and I rode in silence, sitting with our own thoughts as soft-hits of the 80's hummed out of the stereo speakers.
While staring out the window, a simple everyday common phrase abruptly ripped into my thoughts.
The words, unlike my usual thoughts, tore my entire belief system wide open. At first I heard the words and then I felt them.
The words it's going to be okay (I told you they were simple) swept through my psyche. Faster than melting butter in a preheated pan, peace and hope found every cell in my body and saturated my whole being.
Immeasurable amounts of hope flooded my thought-space.
My entire body felt light as a wave of energy cascaded internally.
For the first time in years, the dark cloud that hung over me had vanished.
It's going to be okay.
The words soothed me. They had brought so much relief that during moments of despair and hopelessness, I repeated the phrase to myself.
It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay.
I knew that I could lean on those 5 words when I had nothing else to lean on. They always brought peace and hope.
And I didn't know it back then, but my life's purpose was being formed at only 15 years of age.